Fever Rink – Curling-feber!

[Norsk under] Apparently, curling is the ultimate weirdo sport. Actually the whole thing sometimes resembles a family barbecue party from the 1980s. All sorts of strange characters of all hair-dos, ages, shapes and sizes appear – wearing matching track suites! There’s cousin Linda with her mullet, a turquoise sweater and a broom and there’s uncle John with his beer-belly, weird mustache and, ehem, also a broom….

Every four years when the Winter Olympics come around we find ourselves asking the same question: How the hex did this bizarre garden party on ice come to be recognized as an Olympic sport?

So we sit there in front of the TV, making our condescending remarks about curling not really being a sport, the “athletes’” outfits, their wobbly sliding down the ice and the frantic, sometimes ecstatic, broom sweeping.

And then, just as we are about to switch over to one of the soap reruns, something happens. That Swiss plumber (the one who looks like uncle John) from the little town Rengershäusern, who by the way happens to be that town’s deputy mayor, hurls a stone that curls so beautifully in through the narrowest of gaps between to Finnish stones that you are left gasping in disbelief!

From that point onward your life has changed a little and the rest of the Olympics is only about curling (and downhill, of course). For two weeks you’ll be glued to a screen, getting ecstatic over a fiercely fought battle between a Canadian hairdresser and an Italian physiotherapist, or a relentless war of strategies between a US receptionist and a Scottish commercial fisherman.

After all these years as a passionate Olympic curling fan and endless nights in front of the screen, Bjørn was finally set to try the real thing. Luckily both Kim and Chris were more than willing to come along. After a brief half hour session of instruction we were being thrown in at the deep end (literally) and invited to participate in a real game with the real, seasoned curling players! (Wow – these curlers are nice)! Not only that, but for some reason Kim and Bjørn ended up on the same team. Rarely has the resilience of the Lyngstad’s been put to the test to such a degree.

What followed can probably best be described as magic on ice . Kim quickly mastered the art of hurling rocks down the ice and became an expert at setting “guard” stones to protect the “house” (the target zone). Bjørn then would try to curl his stone around the guard and place it in the house to score points for the team. It must’ve worked because we ended up winning the game convincingly.

There can be only one conclusion: Curling rocks!

Nå kommer jeg og tar deg!

Jaggu skal du være glad for at du har lagt opp, Eigil Ramsfjell! For nå har denne gutten debutert som curling-spiller.

Å herregud, for en følelse det var da jeg spente fra med høyrebeinet for første gang med det mål for øye å slå motstandersteinen ut av boet. Mens jeg fremdeles skled nedover isen kunne jeg følge steinens kurs og i løpet av tiendeler har den skrudd jeg inn dit den skal, og schmokk – den motstandersteinen er borte vekk!

Ha, Dordi Nordby! Deg som jeg har beundret i så mange olympiader. Min største kvinnelige olympiske helt gjennom et par tiår. Kanskje har jeg til og med følt et aldri så svakt streif av en underlig (masochistisk) småforelskelse der du elegant svingte deg ned i en lav sittestilling og med myndig tone fikk dine underkvinner til å sveipe for deg som de aldri før hadde svøpt.

Og så var det altså ikke vanskeligere. Den tredje stenen noensinne satt i boet, og i løpet av første kamp greide jeg også å snike en stein inn mellom to guarder!

La oss håpe det var mye nybegynnerflaks inne i bildet. Hvis ikke harrespekten for våre curling-helter dalt betraktelig.