Bill's Bulletin Board
By Bill Rea

There are some activities that look like they might be fun, no matter what age you are. So you give them a try, and they turn out to be fun.

The nice thing about that little bit of reality is it's often true - there are some activities that are lots of fun for folks of any age, at least while they're taking place. The downside affects those passed a certain age, who have to deal with seriously aching bones and joints the next morning.

Thus was my introduction to curling, and my aching hip notwithstanding, it's something I think I would like to try again.

I have a cousin who curls fairly regularly, like four or five times per week, and she's been trying to get my wife and I to give it a try for a couple of years. Saturday, she finally got her wish. The club where she does most of her curling was having a sort of getacquainted session, with members bringing in friends and relations to try and get them interested in the sport.

Actually, curling has been one of those things I've been thinking about trying for some time. The problem is in my line of work, I have trouble finding time for any sort of regular activity in which I would be expected to be a certain events at predetermined times. My work schedule is just too unpredictable. But occasionally, I'm able to swing such items into my agenda, through such simple expediencies as skipping the first two periods of a King Wild game.

As with any new experience, the days leading up can be a little anxious. Having never curled before, I found myself wondering if I was going to make a total fool of myself. Beth expressed similar concerns, although I was able to settle her down into feeling a certain level of confidence.

You see, I have golfed a few times. One year, we spent our vacation at a resort that had a golf course, and I was able to talk her into spending a couple of hours playing a round. I had golfed a few times, while Beth I don't think had ever held a club in her life. She beat me by five strokes.

I reminded her of that, and I think her fear of curling diminished a bit.

For our recent Christmas party, the people in my office opted not to gather at somebody's home. This year, we all gathered at a bowling alley, where we drank beer, ate Chinese and threw gutter balls. My first two balls were strikes, but my kegling performance the rest of the evening stunk the joint out. Beth, with her usual consistency, was comfortably ahead of me in every game we played.

I reminded her of that, and I think her fear of curling diminished a bit more.

Like just about anything in life, curling, I found, was not as easy at it seems on TV, but it wasn't formidably difficult either.

Although there's no body checking, one has to remember this is a game played on ice (meaning it's slippery) with 45-pound rocks. The tricky part, for me at least was not so much getting the rock to go the length of the sheet of ice, but preventing it from going too far.

I think part of the reason for my lack of success in things like bowling and golf is my heart really isn't in to mastering the skills involved. I do it more to blow of proverbial steam. In a lot of cases, I just want to throw something with everything I've got, or beat the hell out of it with a driver. We were on a golf course in Muskoka Labour Day weekend, and my first tee shot was a thing to behold. The ball just sailed on its way, representing a degree of power that I had not realized I possessed. It didn't upset me in the least that the ball flew right over the green and into the woods, hopelessly out of play. To my knowledge, it has not yet been found. I was just impressed that I got it that far. I bring the same Conan the Barbarian approach to my bowling. I just let the ball fly, and if it happens to hit any of those things at the end of the alley (I think they call them pins), then bully for me. One of my shots got away from me almost as soon a it left my hand, but it was launched with such force that it went straight into the gutter, bounced out and ended up in the other gutter. How many times have we all seen Fred Flintstone make shots like that?

But curling, I learned, was something of a different matter.

Not only did I have to grasp how to launch a rock with some efficiency, I had to get it roughly on target (being a rookie, I don't think anyone expected bull's-eye after bulls-eye - good thing too). There was also the skip, or team captain, standing at the end of the sheet, signalling me where I should aim (wishful thinking) and in which direction I should give my hand a 90-degree twist on release (clockwise or counter clockwise). And through it all, I was supposed to keep my balance too. There was one occasion when I did not, which explains the aching hip I referred to earlier.

But there were some bright spots too.

Ever since we were kids, I have always been able to impress my cousin Dale, whether it be with my skill with a Frisbee or my superior natural talent at Monopoly. Many a game was concluded before I had won through parental interference because punches were being exchanged.

With that in mind, I was able to impress her again with some of my curling exploits.

"That was a TSN shot!" she exclaimed to me at one point after I had made a shot, which judging from her enthusiastic reaction, I concluded was good. "A takeout and roll!"

And the best news was Beth and I were on the same team, so she didn't beat me. Every now and then, even my male ego needs a break.