...ok, that's an exaggeration, but now that the Olympics are over, I'll admit to the fact that I wasted an entire afternoon Saturday watching the men's curling bronze medal game.
I'm not quite sure how curling qualifies as a sport. And before Saturday, I was quick to make fun of the "sport" and the sweep!sweep!sweep!sweeping that goes along with it.
Now? I still make fun of it. The guys looked like they were wearing black patent leather dress shoes on the ice. They were sweep!sweep!sweeping!
But I watched the whole game. Mostly it was because the entire Swedish team was full of adorable 24 year old pretty boys. And the Swiss had their own cutie. We all know that good looking men is how I get hooked into any sport whose rules I don't understand.
But the sad and scary thing is - now I can tell you that each play period in curling is called an end. And instead of "speed," they call it "weight," the weight of the stone (or rock, depending on where you're from). The ice is called the sheet. I know that curling began in Scotland. I went onto wikipedia to find out how a game is scored so I wasn't just watching cute boys in dress shoes sweep!sweep!sweep! the ice like an idiot. I stopped short at trying to figure out the strategy. I still don't see how it's a sport. But once I started watching, I couldn't stop. I now know more about curling than I ever thought or hoped I would.
On a side note, my friend J who lives in Vancouver had passes to some of the events. Including ...everybody say it together ... curling!
I can't get away from it.
Thank god the Olympics are finally over.
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