Return of The Unknown Curling Fan

I showed up early for a morning practice at the Leaside Curling club, when in walked that magical figure I hadn’t seen for while: The Unknown Curling Fan (aka UCF), that mysterious and mystical purveyor of absolute curling knowledge.

He wore a dark coat, with the collar turned up to brace himself from the damp cold.

I asked him where he had been, since last providing me his insights years ago and in another province. His beard had grown long and grey, and he gave off even more of an air of divine all-knowingness.

“I have been on a spiritual curling journey,” he replied. “I have tasted the pies at the Lennoxville Pie Spiel, I have had a pierogi lunch in Moose Jaw, I have drank craft beer in Nova Scotia, I have played on a frozen loch on the Highlands, and I have played amongst the llamas on the hilltops of Machu Pichu—which was actually designed as a two-sheeter by the Mayans.”

With that, he pulled out a silver flask and poured a brownish liquid into his morning coffee.

“I have sought to get to the core of curling, and I have returned to share my wisdom with you, young scribe.”

I quickly ran to grab one of the pencils from the table, and multiple drink order sheets to use to capture an onslaught of wisdom from this grizzled veteran from another era.

Below are his unfiltered truths, in no particular order:

• The Slams are getting boring. Yes, they are the best curling in the world, but they have all the excitement of a Tuesday night mixed league. It’s the same handful of teams, now mostly from outside of Canada, playing for the same money as 20 years ago. If this was supposed to be the evolution of the sport, how is it that the top teams still don’t make enough money to earn a living?

• Women’s curling is more exciting to watch than men’s curling. There, I said it.

• Canadian tournaments are now practice grounds for Tier 2 European and Asian teams. I have no problem with teams from Asia, Europe or wherever coming to Oakville, Medicine Hat or Barrie. But here are my conditions: you can’t just come and play. You need to sit with the opposing teams after every game for a drink (or even a Gatorade). If you are coming to play in our ’spiels to get better, then we want something in return. We want you to tell us about your culture! We want to learn about you, we want to meet you!

Curling is more than just the game, and that is what you need to be learning and bringing back to your countries to grow curling there. I don’t care if you don’t speak the language, or if you need to debrief with your coach for 20 minutes. You might be learning about how to win curling games, but you should also try to learn curling!

• Watching Jennifer Jones win Slams with a young team shows how we should be developing young talent in this country. Instead of spending time and money promoting U25 teams, why not have the best young curlers learn by playing for the best?

• What the hell is happening to junior curling? I was at a ’spiel last week and the coaches were actually sitting out on the ice with the teams, so they can be ready for “interjections” without stopping the time clocks. I’m not sure who came up with this helicopter-parenting version of curling, but it needs to stop. Let the kids figure it out themselves, or they can screw up and you can talk about it after the game. But making coaches sit out on the ice for two-plus hours will drive any joy out of the experience for all involved.

• The no-tick rule is awesome for elite-level curling. I have seen more extra-end steals off very good teams this year in than the past five seasons combined. It has made the extra end compelling and entertaining. It is in no way needed at the club level, but it will make the Brier and Scotties way more fun. The tick was hard, but its ultimate goal was to make the game boring and predictable.

• Who in their right mind thought that a four-game round robin is the best way to run a weekend ’spiel? Inevitably, it results in some crappy 2-2 teams qualifying on the strength of a shootout, or can result in a 3-1 team being sent home. The triple knock-out is the fairest way to qualify teams for playoffs. And while we’re talking about ’spiel formats, why do weekend bonspiels feel like they can start on a Thursday, or even Wednesday mornings? Half the field are Tier 2 teams, where the players presumably have day jobs. It’s like we’re trying to make it harder and harder for Tier 2 teams to hold down lives outside of curling.

• Free idea for the Grand Slams: stop making it a 15-team tournament. Make it a 32 or even a 64-team triple knockout. The biggest bonspiels in the land used to be the Welton Beauchamp and the McCain SuperSpiels, which had teams playing three 10-end games per day. If you actually care about developing curling, let some of the junior and Tier 2 teams play in your reindeer games.

The more exclusive the Slams are, the greater the gap between the current level of elite teams and the next generation. Plus it will toughen up the top teams, instead of letting them enjoy a one-game-per-day, hang-out-in-the-hotel-hot-tub life of leisure. Also, 64 teams helps boost the prize money, and the economic boost of hosting the events in small towns.

• I think we are going crazy with livestreaming curling games. My version of “streaming” is what I would do on the front wall of the curling club after four Labatt 50s when the lineup at the urinals was too long, but now streaming means something else. Now every freaking game from the Flin Flon turkey ’spiel is now available for online consumption—with commentary on YouTube.

Seriously, too much of a good thing is a bad thing. If you want to watch curling, get off your arse, get to your club, and watch the local ’spiel. Trust me, it is way more fun, and they have rye. Play a game of ends (ask someone fun if you don’t know what that is) and enjoy live curling.

• Someone needs to declare an end to teams posting results on social media. Do I need a Twitter post to know that you won your C-semi in Red Deer? If I cared, I would have been watching the livestreams. Here is an idea: post on social media if you have something interesting to say.

With that, the UCF took a final swig from his enriched coffee and walked out of the curling club into the damp October morning.