Sometimes Bad Is Good

In curling, 9-1 is bad. Not "too many cats, too few litter boxes" stinking ... no, it's more like "a skunk got in the car and now the doors won't open" stinking.

But I don't care. You know why I don't care?

'Cause I played in that game.

Not only did I play in that game, see that number "one" up there? The lower half of 9-1?

That was my stone. And, at that point, that made the score 1-1 after three ends.

Yes, my team fell apart after that. Yes, we didn't score another point. Yes, we conceded after seven ends.

But I played a curling match, and I was bad.

Trust me, bad is an improvement. I was mind blowingly, jaw droppingly, heart-stoppingly horrible before Thursday.

Thursday at the Potomac Curlng Club is one of their two drop-in leagues. Before the league, they have a 45-minute lesson along the lines of the Open House session. ("This is the ice, that is TEFLON, watch us try not to laugh as you bring the two together.") But during that time, FL (pronounced eff ell) was kind enough to work with a couple of us who were having trouble delivering the stone.

Under her tutelage, I actually got the stone over the hog line (curler for "you got the stone far enough we won't laugh at you and push the rock out of play"). Once, I even got the stone into the house (curler for "red and blue rings where you actually score points").

I was excited. If I wasn't wearing TEFLON on one foot or standing on the ice, I would have jumped up and down. Instead, I high fived FL.

Then the game started. In this league you play eight ends (curler for "inning"). Normally curling rinks (curling for "team") have four members and each member throws two stones per end. We were short-handed Thursday night, so we had three-person rinks ... which meant I had to throw three stones each end.

Rick and Russ were the unfortunate individuals stuck with me on their team. They were both very supportive and offered some great tips.

Scott, David and Sarah were fortunate enough to play against us. To be honest, Sarah and I were about evenly matched. Rick, though, had an off night and David was on. Our two skips (curler for "the guys who scream all the orders and throw the stones last") were pretty evenly matched.

After one end, it was scoreless. They scored one in the second end, and then came the third end. Somewhere in my three stones, I tucked one behind a guard on the left side of the house which no one got rid of. Thus, 1-1 after three.

From then on, we couldn't really get anything going. I could not find a consistent weight (curler for "how hard you throw the stone") and Rick couldn't find his handle (curler for "which way the rock turns"). They scored every end after that.

My best shot didn't score. It wasn't the shot the skip had called for. No skip even slightly sane ... oh hell, no skip not wearing a straightjacket in a rubber room ... would ask me for a shot beyond the "try to put it in play" variety.

I may never be good enough to ever try for this shot if given the opportunity.

But I made it.

In the fourth end, the skip called for me to put up a guard (curling for "a stone not in the rings, but directly in line with a stone that is"). I didn't. I threw the stone too hard and too far to the right to be a guard.

My rock hit off one of the other team's rocks, knocking their stone out of scoring position. (This is a good thing.) Then my rock rolled to the left, winding up behind another stone. (This is an even better thing.)

Yeah, yeah, I know. It wasn't what the skip asked for, so it wasn't a good shot, but even he was smiling when I finished.

Even the most veteran curler can appreciate beginner's luck when he sees it.

Sure, the other team wound up scoring that end, but not by getting rid of my rock (which was really well protected), but by making a couple of very good shots that left their stones closer to the center.

It wasn't what the skip asked for, it wound up not scoring, but I will remember that shot for the rest of my life ... and I still can't tell you about the shot that actually counted for the point.

We conceded early (curler for "we gave up after only seven ends"), then they got to buy us drinks. There's something to be said for losing in curling -- the winners have to clean the ice and buy the losers drink.

So I have now actually curled. And I am getting better.

But Debbie McCormick had nothing to worry about.