Last Thursday, on a bright, warm afternoon, I trekked through suburban Vancouver on my way to the Vancouver Olympic Centre to see my very first curling game. Sure, I had wanted tickets to hockey or speed-skating, but at the price they were going at, I settled for round-robin curling instead.
Our revered national women’s team, consisting of Cheryl Bernard, Susan O’Connor, Carolyn Darbyshire, and Cori Bartel, was about to face off against the Germans. As the rabid fans on their way to the venue started to cheer louder and ding their cow-bells harder, I got more and more excited. Then it dawned on me: I know absolutely nothing about the sport I’m about to watch.
I sat down in my $85 seat with my $7 beer, and tried to get a sense of what was going on. There were four lanes. In the far one were the Canadians and Germans, next to them were the Chinese and Japanese, then the Russians and British, then the Americans and Danes. I knew that the idea was to get your rocks closer to the centre than the other team’s rocks. Other than that, I was at a loss.
But to my great good fortune, I was sitting next to perhaps the most knowledgeable person in the rink when it came to curling, Joy Smart of southern Alberta, and I struck up a conversation after I heard her explaining the rules to her friend. I think she could tell I was trying to listen in, so she asked if I wanted a brief tutorial.
So here it is: the ins and outs of curling in a paragraph.
There are four members of each team, led by the “skip” (Cheryl Bernard for Canada), who calls the shots. There are 10 “ends” (the equivalent to innings or periods) in each game, and each team throws eight rocks per end. The rocks either curl inwards or outwards, and the harder the sweepers sweep the faster and straighter the rocks go. For every rock that’s closer to the centre of the house (the part of the lane with the circles in it) than the other team’s rocks by the time the end is over, you get a point. But here’s the tricky part: if you pick up a point, you give up the “hammer” (the hugely important last rock thrown) for the next end. Games can be won or lost on the hammer, so often teams will give up taking a point in order to keep the hammer for the next end. It’s all very strategic.
Unlike myself, Joy had been raised a curling fan. She reminisced about driving in the car with her 104-year-old grandfather as he recited every skip in every rink across the country, and recalled the last couple decades of Breyer’s Cup winners.
Obviously, I felt rather out of place, but I decided to get into it anyway. And to be honest, it was actually really exciting. Canada was ahead the whole game until the ninth end when Germany tied it up. But by doing so, they gave up the all-important hammer.
The 10th end was back and forth. Germany placed a rock just outside the centre of the house, and placed another guard rock at the top of the house to protect it. Canada kept knocking out the guard rock, and Germany just kept placing more.
In the end, it came down to the very last rock—the hammer. The crowd was stomping their feet to an almost deafening level, and Canadian flags were waving with more enthusiasm than ever. Bernard took her time, focused, and let the rock go. The crowd fell silent. For a while, it looked like the rock didn’t have enough steam to reach the centre. But with Bernard screaming “hurry hard,” the sweepers swept with all their might. Then, with exact precision, the rock slid just in front of the German rock, no more than a few inches closer to the centre. The perfect curl.
Needless to say, the game greatly exceeded my expectations. Not only did I have a really good time, but I learned something, too. Sure, getting those hockey tickets would still be great, but watching a bunch of middle-aged women throw rocks down a sheet of ice is a lot of fun.
As soon as the game was over, I ran to the nearest sports bar to watch the Canadian men’s hockey team play Switzerland. I guess I’m not a total convert just yet.
