As the Vancouver Winter Olympics were televised, I found that curling had replaced money making on CNBC a few times. Being a creature of habit, I didn’t change the channel, but settled in to watch curling. The next day I watched it again, then again. I even cheered when the U.S. women’s team beat the U.K. and when the men managed to finally win their first match. So, in the interest of intercultural understanding, I asked Karen Cummings, the only person I know who has actually curled, to write a bit about this poorly-understood sport. Isn’t that what travel is all about? CL, Editor.
David Letterman recently did a “Top Ten Surprising Facts about Curling” with several of the facts omitted because the writer fell asleep from boredom. The number one fact was: No one cares.
Not so, David! The tactics may be puzzling, the scoring confusing, and that frenzied sweeping appear pointless, but, I say, try it, you’ll like it.
A couple of years ago a friend suggested we go to the Broomstones open house in Wayland, Mass., and give curling a try. Like David Letterman, I had dismissed curling as a ridiculous endeavor with no rhyme or reason. Until I tried it.
Wikipedia’s description of what is needed to succeed in curling appealed to me: “Because accuracy, strategy, skill, and experience are more valuable in curling than traditional sports virtues of speed, stamina, and strength, most competitive curlers are older than their counterparts in other sports.” Hey, I thought, I might still be a contender!
The club’s come-on for people to try curling at their open houses is: “Where you can throw stones at houses.” And that’s what you do. Well, you don’t throw them; you slide the rock — 38 to 44 pounds of granite specially made in Scotland, where the sport originated sometime in the 16th century.
Curlers are absolute fanatics about their sport and the regulars at Broomstones would actually condescend to curl with novices in the hope of imparting their love of the game to them. So, every Monday night for eight weeks I was put on a team of four with another beginner and two experienced players to play against teams with the same mix.
The rules of play seemed relatively easy as noted on the Broomstones website: “Two teams with four players on a team compete for high score on a long sheet of ice, trying to get as many “rocks” or “stones” closer to the center target area than the opponent’s closest stone; the 12-foot diameter circular target area in which a stone must lie in order to be counted is called the ‘house.’”
I learned very quickly that curling is not quite as easy as it looks. It’s called curling, because you can make the stones curl — duh! Depending on how you hold the handle – in the 10 a.m. or 2 p.m. position – you can actually make it curl around a guard stone to nestle in behind it, hopefully in scoring position. Just fyi, a guard stone sits in front of the “house,” the 12-foot wide set of concentric rings in which you want more of your team’s stones to be at the end of the game.
Well, actually, the scoring is a little trickier than that. You can end up with only one of your stones in the house, but if that one stone is the one closest to the “button,” the center of those rings, then your stone is the only one that scores. And if you have more than one stone and they are also closer to the button than any of your opponent’s stones, then that also counts. Get it?
Well, I did get the curling part — maybe it was my oh-so-long-ago high school bowling prowess that came to the fore. After a few nights of winging the stone way too fast or pushing it much too softly, I finally got the feel for how much was just the right oomph to put behind the stone to make it come to a stop somewhere near where I wanted it to.
And I was a good sweeper, too, especially once I understood the purpose behind it. You see, the ice is not smooth. It’s actually pebbly feeling on top – ice for curling gets sprayed with water droplets so it ends up slightly bumpy. So, when the stone slides over it, only a small ring on the bottom of the stone ends up touching the tops of these tiny bumps. Sweeping vigorously – and, trust me, it’s tiring – ahead of a stone lowers the bumps and increases the water on top of the ice, increasing the speed of the stone. It can also affect the curling aspect as the stone starts to slow down – sweeping can help keep it going in the direction desired (or not desired as once a stone goes past the button, your opponents can sweep just as vigorously in the hopes that the stone keeps going until out of scoring position).
What I never got the feel for was the sliding part. Note the curlers in the Olympics: when they push off from the hack (the stationery piece of rubber bolted into the ice specifically for the purpose of pushing off during the throw), they glide smoothly down the ice, sometimes almost halfway to the house, and appear to merely let go of the stone more than pushing it with their arm.
I envy that gliding action. Even using my broom as ballast, I couldn’t go more than a few feet without falling over or collapsing in a heap, even though I normally have good balance. The coordination and concentration needed to push off, slide/glide, maintain my balance, keep my eye on the desired target, and actually send the stone off in that direction at the right speed using the handle to make it curl one way or the other as it went was totally beyond me.
I also succeeded in getting injured while curling. It’s not an easy thing to do unless you’re foolish enough to think you don’t need all the proper equipment as I did. Again, Wikipedia notes that “A casual player may wear running shoes …,” which is what I did my first few nights. Remember, this game is played on bumpy, slippery ice – what was I thinking? Well, that was exactly what I asked myself after I stood up following an especially vigorous turn at sweeping and, despite having my broom in my hand, went over backwards so fast that I wasn’t even aware it had happened until I woke up a few moments later with several concerned faces peering down at me.
Yes, get the special curling shoes – their soles are called “grippers.” Luckily, I hit a relatively flat part of my head so no permanent damage except embarrassment, but I swear I could feel the resultant bump for a whole year.
Despite my inability to master curling, I do recommend the game — one of my favorite parts was when the game was over and the winners bought the losers a beer, which seemed only right. Find a curling club near you and give it a try.
In the meantime, I’m going to continue watching curling on the Olympics and you can continue to laugh at it with the likes of Stephen Colbert (above) and Steve Carell, a.k.a as Michael Scott of The Office.
Yeah, it is a funny sport.
| The Colbert Report | Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Skate Expectations – Curling Team Tryouts – Colbert vs. Shuster | ||||
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