I’m a curling fan
There, I admitted it
Romer Bautista, staff
It happens around this time every year. I can’t seem to turn on my television set without hearing the loud cries of “Hurry!” “Hard!” and, of course, “Hurry, hard!”
It’s curling season — that decisively Canadian tradition involving rocks and brooms.
And usually, it’s around this time every year when I take part in some hardcore curling-bashing with my friends and family. “This isn’t a real sport!” “Can this get any more boring?” “Why is there so much freaking curling on?” “I can’t stand it anymore!”
But even though I talked a big game, there was still a part of me that always yearned to be kept up to date on the curling front. How was Connie Laliberte doing at the Scotts? Which one of Manitoba’s three top skips would be representing the province at the Brier? I’d waste my days watching the afternoon draws and stay up past bedtime to catch the late draws. And, all the while, I’d be complaining about being bombarded with curling coverage to anyone within earshot.
Well, I can’t keep up the charade any longer. I have to admit it: I am a fan of curling.
With so many reasons to hate the sport, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why I had become a fan of a sport that some have compared to chess. But there seems to be a few key reasons why.
First, it is a difficult task to live in Canada and not find myself reading, listening to or watching the latest curling news. During the men’s and women’s national championships, curling is on the tube for more than a quarter of the day, and makes more front-page covers than the prime minister. Between tournaments like the Scotties Tournament of Hearts, the Tim Hortons Brier, the Safeway Championship, the World Championship, the World Junior Championship, and every other major curling tournament, it’s safe to say that we Canadians get more than our fair share of curling in the media.
Curling is the one other sport, besides hockey, where Canada is considered one of the best nations in the world. In addition to that, the province of Manitoba generally has some of the top curling teams in the country, as exemplified by Jennifer Jones at this year’s Scotties. So it seems only natural for me to get fired up and root for my home teams. I celebrate every Manitoba victory, and curse any Manitoba loss during the Scotties or the Brier. And no matter which province wins the nationals, I always root on Team Canada at the World Championships or the Olympics.
I’m also a curling fan because I feel like I could compete in it; it can’t be that hard. Everyone out on the ice looks like a regular person and not a world-class competitor, though they are. It’s easier for me to relate to someone like Jeff Stoughton than to someone like LeBron James. I’m not saying that I can go out there and compete with Canada’s best curlers, but it doesn’t take an extensive set of physical skills to play the sport. A skip’s strongest asset is his or her brain — his or her ability to plan two or three shots ahead, or even two or three ends ahead. And while not everyone has a 30-inch vertical, everyone does have a brain.
Along those same lines is another reason why I enjoy the sport — it’s a sport that is best enjoyed with a nice cool beverage. It’s no secret that curling is synonymous with drinking. Hell, it’s a curling tradition that the winning team buys the losing team a drink after they play a game. If there is one sure way of raising a sport’s enjoyment level, it’s by adding drinking to the mix. Much like drunken bowling, drunken curling is an event that should be tried by all.
And so, from now on, I will no longer hide my infatuation with curling. And for anyone amongst you who feel that way I used to feel, I implore you to do the same. s
And, to those of you who are stubborn in your ways and continue to hate all things curling, I say this: you’d better learn to love it, because as long as you are in this country, you will have to live with it for a long, long time.
