Let me preamble this assured ramble by saying that I understand this statement might call into question my ‘Canadianship’, and most definitely my status as a Calgarian and Albertan. Regardless of this consequence, I must come out and say it.
I. Detest. Curling.
This comment comes on the tail end of the just-concluded
Tim Horton’s Brier, something, that for the last week, has been on the forefront of Calgarian conversation.
Unfortunately, I don’t get it. While I enjoy winter sports, this game, um, sport, incites as much interest in me as my current tax prep. While I understand Curling enjoys a proud Canadian history—for Albertans in particular— when it comes to this icy sport, I don’t see anything overly sport-like about it at all.
Excuse the riots this may incite, but to lay peepers like mine, the lineage looks like it could be traced back to inebriated townsfolk, who on a bender from hell woke up to find they had created the ultimate drinking game.
I can almost envision the perplexed lookers-on as an excited ‘Joe’ and ‘Schmo’, with brooms in hand (still hung-over) swept furiously whilst a comrade threw a rock (an actual rock) down their frozen street.
And that brings me to another point—can it really be labelled sport when so much of the ‘sport’s’ prep revolves around indulging in ‘the brew’?
Ultimately, the game/sport bores me, and while I know I am standing on a dangerously close to suffering a stoning by curling rocks, atleast I am in a city populated with enough sweepers to tastefully cover my remains.