It's not just a rock. It's forty-two pounds of polished granite, with a beveled underbelly and a handle a human being can hold. Okay, so in and of itself it looks like it has no practical purpose, but it's a repository of possibility. And, when it's handled just right, it exacts a kind of poetry - as close to poetry as I ever want to get. The way it moves.... Not once, in everything I've done, have I ever felt the same wonder and humanity as when I'm playing the game of curling. ~Paul Gross, John Krizanc, and Paul Quarrington, Men with Brooms
I have a sneaking suspicion I am addicted to the sport but my excuse for why I have been practicing in class two days, one extra night for a private lesson, and attending Sunday night practice every week is because regionals are fast approaching. Tomorrow the Student Club is playing the City Club and I am prepared to do one of two things: 1) have amazing line and make every shot I attempt or 2) fall on my ass and make a fool out of my team. We will see.
1 comment:
I have the sneaking suspicion that you are addicted to the sport too! Haha.
You'll do great at regionals Karen! No worries. I'm sure that you'll throw at least 90% of them perfect (which considering that I'm throwing 40% according to you, probably means that you should skip the team).
As for Men with Brooms -- Maybe the next time you need to write a poem for an english class, you should read off that quote and throw a rock.
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