The Bowling Green State University Ice Arena was quiet. The only sounds were the droning hums of refrigeration and the light scratch of round stones that looked like mini bumper cars sliding along the ice. Voices were muffled as teammates in matching blue fleece discreetly strategized in the chilled air. Sharon Gargasz, a veteran player, followed a cue from her husband and teammate, Ron, on where to aim. She released the stone with a twist of her wrist, slightly spinning it counter-clockwise as it moved across the ice.
Then a shout: “Sweep! Sweep!” Two women with brooms in their hands quickly sidestepped to keep up with the stone as it slid. They swept brashly back and forth as hard as they could, as though they were trying to remove a stain from deep in the ice. Then came a sharp, clear clank as a red-marked stone hit a blue, knocking the blue stone away as the red came to rest in the scoring area. It was a perfect hit.
A historic sport
Curling has been a sport since at least the 16th century, according to the World Curling Federation, when a monk in Scotland challenged a relative of the clergy to push stones across a frozen pond. The sport later found a natural home in Scandinavia, as well as in Canada and the northern U.S. Curling is now played around the world, and in the Olympics, while official stones are still made from granite found in Scotland.
A curling rink is 138 feet in length, with concentric circles at each end called a “house.” Players take turns pushing stones from one side to the other, attempting to land them as close as they can to the center of the house. Players sweep in order to heat and speed up the ice, causing the stone to move more quickly as it nears the target. The team with the stone closest to the center of the house at the end of each round, called an “end,” scores a point for every stone that landed closer to the center than the other team’s closest stone. After eight ends, the team with the most points wins.
Blood spilled
I competed in a match against other beginners during one of the club’s “Learn to Curl” events. I was struggling—my curls kept curling away from the house, and I kept finding myself inexplicably falling onto my back after every throw, staring at the ceiling.
As I lamented letting my team down, I saw another player slip on the ice. Before he could brace his fall, his face smacked directly onto a stone as he fell head-first. He sat up immediately as blood began to pour from his face so quickly and profusely that his hands couldn’t hold it all. An EMT squad came and carried him out to a nearby hospital, where I was told he was treated for only minor injuries. The rest of us played on, more sober than before.
A proud club
The Bowling Green Curling Club was founded in 1968, and has sent its members to competitions, called “Bonspiels,” all over the world. Its members have even competed in the Olympic trials. Cameron Roehl, a 16-year-old high school student, will be competing this year at the Junior World Championships.
“Curlers are just generally nice people,” said Shannon Orr, vice president of the Club and a professor at Bowling Green State University. She’s found a semblance of that society in Bowling Green—the club has 90 active members, who play in leagues each year from October through March. Winners buy beers for the losers after each match—they put down their brooms and stones, and talk about curling, and everything else.
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Dorian Slaybod is an attorney happily living in Toledo.