Singing. And Drinking.

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Curling has a long and well-deserved reputation for being a sport that, um,  how do I put this delicately? Often attracts people who like to imbibe. To indulge. To drink. I hinted at this before in ‘Losing‘ where I mentioned that virtually every curling club in the country has a bar. (Heck, in some clubs the playing surface is licensed.) There’s a persistent story (if it’s not true it should be) that not all that long ago (the 80s, probably) more than one Canadian team would take massive amounts of beer to the world championship.

Times have changed somewhat. But no matter how you slice it, curling clubs and drinking go hand-in-hand. Sometimes this isn’t pretty. Like on the last night of the season, round about midnight when the drunk guys get on the PA (the one used for speeches and stuff — not a karaoke machine) and start singing.

Scary.

Even scarier than the medley of Spice Girls and Gangnam Style that they had going earlier.

Maybe it’s a good thing that the season is over.

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The Author

Rose Glace is the pseudonym of nobody important.

1 Comment

  1. Pingback: Succeeding. Failing. Immersing. Brooding. | Rose Glace's Blog

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