Curling Rocks!

I have something to tell you.
I just can’t keep it inside any longer, or I think I’ll burst. I’ve never felt this way before and it feels fantastic. You see, I’m in love ...
... with curling!
Saturday morning, after breakfast from Micky D’s drive-through and the first of many stops that day at the Hortons, Lovely Lady and I went down to the Newcastle Curling Club for Kim Drysdelle’s 15th annual bonspiel.
My old pal Darren McCormack had called the night before to tell me he was putting a team together and needed a fourth. I tried to talk my way out of it, telling him I’d never touched a curling stone in my life – but it didn’t take him long to have me on the ropes. I agreed to show up for the morning.
“Bring your camera,” he said as he signed off.
The feeling came out of nowhere. Walking through the door, stepping onto the ice, it felt like coming home. I can’t really explain it.
“Feel that air,” I heard someone say from a few sheets away. He must have been reading my mind.
Holding the stone in my hand, trying to give it just the right amount of weight, watching it curl down the ice, sweeping, being part of a team. The rush of adrenaline when one stone knocks another into oblivion.
I was hooked. And, I repeat, I love it.
Turns out I’m not bad either, according to some of the more experienced fellas. Nor is Lovely Lady, who’s a great shot.
Standing on the sidelines later, I’m watching a stone in play, fascinated by the way it curls down the ice. I can’t take my eyes off of it, except for quick glances at Lovely Lady, who’s smiling at my excitement. Someone walks in front of me as I’m watching and I strain my neck to see. Darren, who never misses a beat, laughs.
“Dan’s getting into it,” he says and pats me on the back. Yeah. I guess I am.
When the morning was over, we left to do other things, but all that day my mind kept turning back to curling.
That evening, Lovely Lady, Darren, his best pal Jamie and myself were chowing down on a beautiful roast chicken dinner at The Tide, listening to some fine tunes by a live band and talking about curling.
The next night I’m walking by a TV with a curling match on and the world around me disappears as I watch.
All I can say is, “Sign me up for next year and if anyone is short a man for the rest of this season, you know where to find me.”
Thanks to Kim Drysdelle for hosting the wonderful event, Darren for roping me into the best time I’ve had in a long time and Lovely Lady for just being herself.
Next season, the curling will be happening down at the French Fort Cove Eco Centre, where I’m sure I’ll be spending more than a few evenings.
Oh, by the way. Happy Birthday, Kim!