Thursday’s Last Hurrah!

“If it was raining soup, the Irish would go out with forks.” – Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

Well, another year of writing about our on-ice kibitzing has drawn to a close for me.  While we technically have another game to play, I’ll be busy decompressing and/or drowning my sorrows on a Dominican beach over the next two weeks.  Thinking about my dismal performance this season, I’ve slowly come to the realization that my inconsistent shot-making has been a serious inconvenience for my team.  Thus, it stands to reason that I’d once again abandon my boys prior to the final week’s giddy pre-playoff backslapping.  Believe me when I tell you, I will be seriously contemplating (over adult beverages) what I must’ve done to anger the curling gods.  After this apocalyptic season, all I can say to my team is “keep calm, carry on” – they can’t do any worse than with me at the helm!

For my final game of the year, I was happy to play the talented Both team.  I must say that facing their team is always a treat, especially since one knows that comedy will certainly ensue.  Unlike some teams, these young bucks aren’t afraid to talk during a game.  In fact, after the first few ends there was more chatter than going on a speed date.  While young Brad is a fine curler and the best of company, he has the annoying ability to display savant-like curling performances most times he plays us … bloody hell!  In keeping with this theme, last night’s game was an intoxicating cocktail of near-perfect shot making and Hawking-like strategy.  As expected, the always brilliant ‘pretty boy’ Magee showed up with more energy than a rodeo clown.  Seriously, that guy’s so fit he could model underwear.  Creepiness aside, the Both Bandits could not mount any offence and we shed no tears at their misfortune.  Sean and Chas (the rhythm pals) were exceptionally effective in both their sweeping and shot-making.  As Shark and I only had ‘normal’ shots to make, we felt we were on a holiday from the late-end quagmire we’ve usually faced.  After the season we’ve endured … games simply don’t get better than this.

[drumroll]  Shocking news: We won in six ends! (I’m not jesting).  I’m hopeful this victory represents a fresh new face for our beleaguered team.  As a rule of thumb, I’m usually loathe to tread carefully when asked about the future.  However, last night was different in that I was ready to start filming a team Pinty’s commercial  [TAKE ONE: The jubilant team laughs uproariously while biting into Pinty chicken legs].  What can I say?  We rarely win, but when we do … we celebrate like friggin’ champions.

The fake last word:
Two men are discussing their lives. One says, “I’m getting married. I’m sick of a messy apartment, dirty dishes, and no clothes to wear.” The other one says, “Hey, I’m getting divorced for the same reasons.”

[cue lonely saxophone]  Next year, I pledge to be more even-keeled and reliable … while on the ice.  I’d also like to apologize to anyone I have not offended in my blog, especially Scott Powell.  Please be patient.  I will eventually get to you.  Seriously, I have to acknowledge the exceptional members we have at Navan CC.  Having brought two new curlers into the  club, I can attest that all are welcome – whether they’re just learning the game or one of those uniquely competent curlers we occasionally witness.  On this note, I wish you all a wonderful summer with whatever makes you laugh … oh, and be nice to one another.  Cheers!

The real last word:
A golfer walks into the pro shop at the golf club and asks the golf pro if they sell ball markers.  The golf pro says they do, and they are $1.00.  The guy gives the golf pro a dollar. The golf pro opens the register, puts the dollar in, and hands him a dime to use as the marker.
This economic model is also used by governments.

Sad clowns and Navanites

“I let a pasta chef borrow my car and he returned it all denty.”

In curling we learn some wonderful things.  One of them is this: When you get knocked down, which in our case is plenty often … the other team buys you the beer.  For me, this conjures up our old team ritual of meeting at the bar/observation deck prior to the game.  We gave up on that routine a few years back … and observe what ‘good’ it has done for us?  Look around and you’ll see what the good teams (i.e. Edwards, Leighfield, Both, Lawler) all have in common … pre-game beverages.  Arguably, they are the master of their own domain … and we need to embrace our old ways.  “Be strong. I whisper to my coffee.”

Well, well – isn’t this a fine mess we’re in?   Last night, we were supposed to face Peter Jansson.  Unfortunate for us, he was off doing clandestine stuff out of the country, so he enlisted the assistance of rent-a-skip, Keith Tanner.  My frenemy, Mr. Tanner’s affable disposition and cat-like delivery (I shall call you Mr. Mistoffelees) were too much for us.  So, what potentially started as the Navan Civil war – Jack Daniels versus Jim Beam – turned out to be a one-sided affair.  We were tied up after six ends and just a few shots away from greatness … and that’s when they scored four.  Makes sense, as Freddy always said, “Every time a curler makes a good shot, he must subsequently make two stinkers to restore the fundamental equilibrium of the universe.” After last night’s game, we are obviously one with the universe!  That said, no team wants to be know as an easy target.   Thus, I need to re-watch The Shawshank Redemption to remember the importance of being patient and perseverant.  Yes, I’ve made plenty of mistakes.  However, skipping doesn’t come with instructions … even if it did, I probably wouldn’t follow them anyway.

[Overheard from Bruce last night] “I gotta tell you that I was once very anti-hotdog, until I experienced one of those wieners on the rotating cooker … man, they are magically delicious!”

I’m looking forward to watching some more ‘Scotties-level’ curling on TV this coming week.  That said, I’m just praying that it won’t have any more LIV-relief commercials featuring that creepy guy with the greasy hair.  Brier Prediction: me – McEwen (cause he’s from Manitoba), my wife – Gushue (cause he’s handsome).

The last word:
A gas station owner in Orleans was trying to increase his sales, so he put up a sign that read, ‘Free Sex with Fill-Up!’
Kenny pulled in, filled his tank and asked for his free sex. The owner told him to pick a number from 1 to 10. If he guessed correctly, he would get his free sex.
Kenny guessed 8, and the proprietor said, “You were close. The number was 7. Sorry. No sex this time.”
A week later, Kenny, along with his friend Greg, pulled in for another fill-up. Again he asked for his free sex.
The proprietor again gave him the same story, and asked him to guess the correct number.
Kenny guessed 2. The proprietor said, “Sorry, it was 3. You were close, but no free sex this time.”
As they were driving away, Greg said to Kenny, “I think that game is rigged and he doesn’t really give away free sex at all.”
Kenny replied, “No, no, it’s genuine enough Greg. My wife won twice last week.”