In 2006, when the Winter Olympic Games were held in Salt Lake City, it wasn’t snowboarding or speed skating that mesmerized NBC’s viewers. It was curling. For many Americans, the televised competition was their first exposure to this traditional Scottish game on ice. A mainstay in Canada and Europe for centuries, curlers number in the millions worldwide, but only in the thousands in the U.S. Since the Salt Lake games, however, curling clubs across the nation, including Connecticut’s own Nutmeg Curling Club, have seen an upsweep in this offbeat pursuit. Just what is the fascination with a sport whose components are a large rock and a couple of brooms?

“It’s an interesting challenge,” says Wilton resident Jim Meinhold, who first learned about curling when he was transferred to Canada. Once back in Wilton, he came across a curling class that was being offered by a continuing-education program, and he became hooked. “One of the beauties of curling is how quickly you can learn to throw a shot. In two to three lessons, you can hold your own in a league or in competition. Of course, to get to the highest levels,” he says, “requires a lot of training and dedication.”

For new parents Andy and Jen Sherriff of Fairfield, curling was a perfect match for their busy home life. “A four-hour round of golf was just too long,” says Andy, a practicing attorney. “Most curling matches will be over within two hours. Even with the socializing that usually follows a match, it’s less of a time commitment.” The Sherriffs joined Nutmeg a few years ago, with no previous experience. “You need to be comfortable on the ice,” he continues. “But you can be as competitive as you want.”

Nancy Brautigam and her husband, Bill, were first introduced to the sport by friends over a decade ago. “Curlers are extremely friendly,” says Nancy. “The mix of people is appealing. You can curl with doctors, lawyers, plumbers, and grandmas.”

If you know anything about curling, you probably know about the rocks, or “stones,” 42 pounds of polished, rounded granite that curlers deliver in an elegant lunge down the 146-foot lane (or sheet) of ice; and the brooms—once made of corn husks, now of carbon fiber, which are swept frenetically by two teammates to influence the direction (or curl) and distance of the shot. Over the course of two hours, one team either positions (“draws”) or protects (“guards”) the stones in relation to the button (“house”)—a target of concentric rings with a bull’s-eye center. Points are awarded at the end of each “inning” to the team that comes closest to the button.

Curling is easy to learn but difficult to master. “Some call it chess on ice, and that’s about right,” says Meinhold. The “skip,” or team leader, is akin to a master chess player, anticipating shots and advising teammates about defensive and offensive positioning. With each stone, the strategy can change, with inches the reward of finesse. “It requires balance and flexibility,” continues Meinhold. Andy Sherriff once curled with an 89-year-old who, he says, “couldn’t sweep as hard but could put the stone wherever she wanted.”

The Nutmeg Curling Club meets at the Wonderland of Ice in Bridgeport from October to April. In addition, Meinhold co-chairs a local high-school league open to the surrounding area that is expanding to include “junior rockers.” Since players walk about two miles during a match, kids enjoy a moderate aerobic workout that also has cardiovascular and weight-training benefits.
The Crystal Snowflake Bonspiel, a tournament scheduled for December 6 through 9, is a terrific opportunity to see curling in action. There are also learn-to-curl open houses scheduled after the Olympics, at the end of February or early March. Curling, like its Scottish brethren, golf, is a game of etiquette and tradition, engendering a degree of cordiality you don’t often see on other playing fields. Matches begin and end with handshakes, and are interspersed with only positive compliments or broom
taps. All of which makes curlers, without question, genuine sports.