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| Photo: flickr\bensonkua |
Curling community
Not just a game, curling brings communities together across Canada
By Jean Mills
Walk through the doors of any
curling club in Canada on a
winter evening — say, Pugwash, N.S., or
Vernon, B.C. — and you’ll likely see the
same scene. Curlers of all ages, swaddled
in layers of fleece and nylon, stretching
and chatting in the club room overlooking
the gleaming white ice, waiting for
their turn to throw rocks toward painted
rings and holler, “Hurry! Hard!”
The beer-drinking, cigarette-smoking
stereotype of generations past has been superseded by stylish
athletes bearing lightweight
carbon-fibre
brooms. But one
important aspect of
curling culture remains
unchanged. Curling
clubs have always played
a significant social role in
their communities, says
University of Waterloo
recreation and leisure
studies professor Heather
Mair, and they continue to do so today.
Since 2005, Mair has spent about
600 hours visiting curling clubs in every
province — 22 clubs in total. “The
smaller the community,” she says, “the
more important the club.”
Mair’s research shows that clubs also
connect families. In Indian Head, Sask.,
for instance, she watched a grandmother
curl in a bonspiel with her son and grandchildren
as other relatives cheered them
on. “This large group ate together, laughed
and shared stories the whole time,” says
Mair. “Where else,” said the grandmother,
“could I do this with my grandkids?”
Such intergenerational intermingling
is common. “In every place I went, I saw
groups of young kids, seniors and people
of all ages spending time together,” says
Mair. “In a small club in Alberta, I
watched two young parents curl while a
group of senior curlers took loving care
of their three-month-old baby.”
Even in towns without dedicated curling
clubs, Mair found that the sport itself
drew people together. In Glovertown,
N.L., she watched a small group of men
work through the night to prepare an
arena for its weekly curling session. They
had limited curling-specific equipment
and had to “craft stuff out of nothing,”
says Mair, describing how the men made
a boot cleaner — a staple at most clubs
— by nailing heavy brushes to a board.
All year long, says Mair, curling clubs
are hubs for charity and social events and
celebrations. When she visited Glenboro,
Man., the town’s population doubled
on the weekend of its annual bonspiel as
people came “home” to join the festivities,
from breakfasts to banquets. The sport, it
seems, is only part of the story.