They’re partying like it’s 1999
Fans at home and in the stands of Enmax Centre in Lethbridge, Alta. saw the best game of the 2022 Brier on Monday night.
That’s the article I want to write.
Expounding on the miraculous shotmaking of two skips, one on his ascension and the other at 47 appearing impenetrable to Father Time. It’s doubtful that Kevin Koe has adopted the Tom Brady diet and exercise regime, making his performance so far this week all the more impressive. I’d like to break down the second end, or the fourth, or contemplate if the ninth end hit and roll by Matt Dunstone may have been the biggest shot in a game filled with highlight reel moments.
That’s the column I want to write.
I want to write about Curling Legend Ron Green sending a passionate email to Curling Canada challenging the path the Brier is taking and offering his thoughts on how to repair the damage. I want to debate the question: if the Wild Card Dunstone team wins this Brier, does it break the 42-year-old title drought for Saskatchewan?
I want to write about the future of this event and how the provincial uniform matters to fans but the birthplace or residence may only be a concern for regional competitors who see their Brier chances threatened by Grand Slam-calibre out-of-towners.
This is, however, the piece I don’t want to write. The one where we talk about the horrible virus that has spent over two years taking millions of lives, livelihoods and dividing lifelong friendships across policy and procedures to fight a global outbreak. Vaccines, masks and the forgotten effort of contact tracing are not new—they’ve been around for over 200 years—but somehow they have become symbols of who we are, and who are not.
Arriving in Lethbridge with my 75-year-old mother, it was apparent to me that everything had changed. Upon entry, security included metal detectors and a bag search, but no one took our temperature or asked for a QR code. The 4,000-plus crowd at the Enmax Centre on Saturday night were 99 per cent smiles and teeth, with minimal masking to be seen. This included the senior crowd that makes up a large percentage of the audience for these events.
Afterwards in the Patch, there was not a mask in sight and I watched several old-timers saunter through the packed crowd, several using canes to stabilize themselves through the mass of partygoers. And everyone was smiling. The Chevelles put on another great show (they always do) while fans and players (yes, they were there too) tipped a few $8.00 beverages and shook their booty as the clock moved us to Sunday.
It felt good to be alive and out in public with people, but I couldn’t shake a feeling in the pit of my stomach. The venerable curling writer, editor and historian Larry Wood died on Feb. 15 of “complications from pneumonia and COVID-19.” I kept thinking of Larry that night and how he could still be with us. I also laughed, thinking if he were here he’d be telling me to keep the damn “I” out of my column. More than once he admonished the use of writing from a first-person point of view and I think of his advice each time my fingers start tapping on a keyboard. Usually I abide his words, but not this time—sorry, Woody.
(For a great example of Larry’s writing, read his essay on the modern era in the classic curling book The First Fifty. The first four paragraphs are in the first person without a single “I” to be found. Brilliant.)
Regardless of the obstacle, humans always seem to move on, no matter the consequences. And let me be clear ... I get it. Everyone has spent two years dealing with the exhaustion of, well, everything.
My mother Louise—better known as “Lou”—is here because she wanted to get out of my house and go on a road trip with her son. She takes magic pills each day to reduce her rare type of stage-four lung cancer. She’s been through a lot and hasn’t given up living yet.
On day one I kept reminding her to lift up her mask and on day two it was nowhere to be seen; she enjoys chatting and finds it easier without the facial protection. She buys the 50/50 tickets despite me telling her the odds aren’t worth the gamble. She won’t listen to my advice in either case.
Fellow curling fan … this is not written to pass judgement. I’m someone who tries to see all sides of a debate and attempts to empathize and listen to various perspectives. My philosophy has been tested lately. When you have a loved one needing medical attention, it’s frustrating when hospitals fill up and nurses and doctors are pushed to their limits. It’s been a long 24 months and, like many, I’ve lost track of whether the current strain and leading indicators are good or bad.
What is clear is this Brier has moved on like your ex did after the breakup. She’ll answer your call, but she’s never coming back and you might as well get on with your life. Sure, there are protocols in place, like masks on the media bench and distancing for player interviews, but they seem almost superfluous compared to the realities of the event. I understood players were originally going to be tested during the week but that was cancelled. There are recommendations of course, but with all testing completed upon arrival, players took to the Patch and mingled with fans, just as they have since its inception in 1982 (2021 being the one exception).
This can’t be an easy position for Curling Canada. Restrictions in Alberta have been lifted, fans are able to attend and everyone involved want to see things get back to “normal.” By not testing, Curling Canada is able to reduce the chances of games being cancelled or a key player missing critical matches late in the week which could determine the outcome. Some will call this irresponsible but it’s clearly within the guidelines of local health authorities and frankly, the same amount of testing required of the thousands in attendance this week, i.e. none.
A few weeks ago, Jason Gunnlaugson submitted a thoughtful and well written letter to Curl Manitoba, stating he was not going to participate in the provincial men’s championship. His concerns were a lack of testing and protocols in place for the event. Measures were brought in and Jason reversed his decision, but I can only speculate on his feelings about the choices made for this Brier (note that 16 players tested positive after the Manitoba Tankard, held in mid-February).
If you’re still with me and reading this, how do you feel? Are you glad to be watching on television and avoiding the super-spreader event in Lethbridge? Do you believe life inherently has risks, the worst is behind us and it’s time to move on? With Ukraine facing devastation and World War III appearing closer each hour, is it any wonder that many want to party like it’s 1999?
Should I be here right now? Should my mom be here? I’m asking myself that question every five minutes. For the other four minutes, it feels good to be with people and experience normal again. Then I’m reminded … Larry Wood died of “complications from pneumonia and COVID-19.”
Good curling and take care.