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By Joe Sixpack
Posted on Feb. 20, 2009 on Joe
Sixpack
YOU
KNOW WHAT'S wrong with winter? The dearth of decent
beer-drinking sports.
Golf, softball, bicycling,
rowing - these are all perfectly fine summertime activities
that easily accommodate beer consumption. All can be
performed quite adequately with a beer no farther away
than the distance between your last chip shot and the
golf cart.
But when the grass freezes,
what do you do?
You can't play ice hockey
with a beer in your hand, you can't drink while downhill
skiing, and figure skating with a buzz is a recipe for
instant barf.
Friends, allow me to introduce
you to . . . curling.
Here is a sport that combines
the physical exertion of bowling with the high-paced
excitement of chess. It's a game in which one player
slides a 42-pound stone down a sheet of ice while seven
other players stand around and wait for it to arrive
at its target 20 minutes later.
The sport moves with all
the speed of a SEPTA bus climbing Green Lane in Manayunk.
Now, I concede that classifying
curling as a "sport" is a bit of a stretch. It's a sport
in the same sense that sweeping your front steps is
a sport.
But, no matter. It's in the
Olympics, so a sport it is.
And, more to the point of
this column, if you ever catch a glimpse of the sidelines
at Philadelphia Curling Club, in Paoli - the region's
only curling facility - you'll find several neatly stacked
cases of Yuengling and Labatt's
Blue, chilled and ready to go.
Aside from a pair of 150-foot-long
ice sheets, the facility's main feature is a cozy clubhouse
with a well-stocked bar.
"Curling," said Sandi Macan,
one of the club's enthusiastic members who invited me
to watch an evening of stone-chucking, "is a sport that
was made for beer-drinking."
And, vice versa.
Curling
meets the three-basic criteria of any decent beer-drinking
sport:
1.
Anyone can do it, even those of us with ample
beer guts.
2. It's
a game of strategy, leading to countless hours of
post-game analysis over beers.
3. You
can do it while holding a can of beer.
I won't bore you with the
rules. You're sliding a rock on ice - what else do you
need to know?
Honestly, the most important
guy on the team - called the "skip" - simply stands
there and orders his broom-wielding teammates to "sweep."
Then he takes a gulp and yells, "Stop sweeping!"
Yeah, I know, sounds just
like your boss, right?
The game requires balance,
hand-eye coordination and the ability to "read" the
ice, club member Wayne Anderson told me after a match
last week. Then he drew a swig from a can of Black
and Tan and conceded, "It's a game that you
can play just totally socially. You just try your best
and have a good time."
That's not to say there aren't
some very good players. Word is a couple of the club's
women members will compete at the Olympic trials this
year.
Erik Sheets, a junior at
Villanova, is headed to the college championships in
Chicago next month.
"I got hooked while watching
it at 3 in the morning during the Olympics a few years
ago," he explained. "I actually enrolled at Villanova
because it's just down the road from the club."
The club, founded in 1957,
now has about 230 members who share costs of running
the facility. They host dinners and tournaments, called
bonspiels, to raise funds.
This weekend, members will
compete in their annual Jeff Harris Curl-a-Thon, named
for a young member who was rendered a permanent quadriplegic
after a swimming accident two years ago. The event,
open to the public, raises money for Harris' continuing
medical care.
Anderson, who coached Harris
when he was a teenager, said the fund-raiser is a good
example of the camaraderie of curling.
After all, he noted, curling
is a sport where tradition holds that the winning team
- not the losers - buys the first round.
For information about the
Curl-a-Thon and the Philadelphia Curling Club, visit
www.philadelphiacurlingclub.org.
"Joe Sixpack" by Don Russell appears weekly in Big Fat
Friday. For more on the beer scene in Philly and beyond,
visit www.joesixpack.net.
Send e-mail to joesixpack@phillynews.com.
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