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... [i] get this shiny fiddle made of gold
So I was pretty tired after two months of being sick and a long bonspiel last weekend and a long week at work with a deadline today, and I wasn't especially looking forward to Friday league. I like my team -- PT at vice, and this is the first time he and I have both been there, so that's a nice change [g], and a father-and-son pair in the front end, who are good guys and learning crazy fast and really good fun to be around even when they're not making their shots or sweeping esp. strongly -- but still, you know, Friday. And then it turned out that my opponent was JK, who is hands-down the best curler in the Friday league (she's kind of slumming, to be honest), she who has been to nationals and generally schools us properly out there; in our first game this half, she kicked my ass up one side of the ice and down the other. Tonight she had LA sparing for her normal vice, MC, who is [married to PT and] away at club nationals, and JA, her own fiance, sparing for KS at second, and her usual lead KA. (MC is probably better than LA at vice, but JA should be better than KS at second, so she just about broke even in terms of the team she had in front of her tonight.) So I thought, okay, it'll be a short game, we'll have some fun and it'll be over soon because soon I'll be dead.
We lost the toss and stole one in the first. And then stole one in the second.
And then stole one in the third.
And then stole one in the fourth and one in the fifth, and two in the sixth, and two in the seventh.
Granted, a couple of those points were the results of unfortunate misses on their part; not only would they not get what they wanted, but they'd knock us into a better position than we were, or inadvertently take out their own stone. I've had that happen; it's not fun. It is, in fact, the worst way to lose -- it's less fun than being on the wrong side of a complete blowout, with one team getting one big end after another; that, in fact, is the worst way to win, and it's a worse feeling to be winning that kind of game than to be losing it, I'd argue -- when you're right there in every end and you just. can't. manage. to get in there for a fucking point.
But even on top of a couple of fortuitous misses from the other team, we? played a great game. The front end was inconsistent, maybe 40% at best, but damn if the way they missed didn't give me things I could use anyway. And I called a really awesome double for my second, which I really enjoy because new players are so thrilled with doubles. And I overcurled a bit on a shot I'd meant to make for myself and got a double instead, which I hadn't really believed was there. It was that kind of night. You know how someone -- skip RS insists it's not her, but I feel like it's someone in that crowd -- keeps on saying, "I'd rather be lucky than good"? I always say no, I'd rather be lucky and good, and tonight, I was. I didn't flat-out miss a shot until the seventh end*, and I always got the roll I needed, and I skinnied past guards, or if I got a little rub it worked out in my favor. It was kismet.
We played the eighth even though the thing was mathematically over, just to get the rocks back, and I started out throwing through, like you do, and she had a couple of guards and a couple of draws, and I had a hit and stick, and one of her draws came a little heavy and knocked me behind cover to be lying one -- it was that kind of night -- but I couldn't quite guard it properly and she did a nice run-back to be lying four. And with my last shot, I said look, if it mattered, I'd go for this in-off over here, but since it doesn't, let's see if I can draw through this port about a rock and a half wide and curl behind stuff and land on the tee line for shot.
And I did.
Final scoreboard:
*it makes up, in a way, for our second game at the Kayser, in which if I made my second shot in the fourth -- which I don't remember -- then I only missed eight shots in a row, being every single shot in the back half of the game, every single one after the fourth end. (If I missed my second shot in the fourth, then I missed nine in a row. I know I made my first shot in the fourth; I just don't know whether that was the last shot I made in that game, or almost the last.)
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sanj, abka, anyone else, now would be a great time to get your yenta on, if you please, before I burn up all my good fortune. [bats eyelashes]
We lost the toss and stole one in the first. And then stole one in the second.
And then stole one in the third.
And then stole one in the fourth and one in the fifth, and two in the sixth, and two in the seventh.
Granted, a couple of those points were the results of unfortunate misses on their part; not only would they not get what they wanted, but they'd knock us into a better position than we were, or inadvertently take out their own stone. I've had that happen; it's not fun. It is, in fact, the worst way to lose -- it's less fun than being on the wrong side of a complete blowout, with one team getting one big end after another; that, in fact, is the worst way to win, and it's a worse feeling to be winning that kind of game than to be losing it, I'd argue -- when you're right there in every end and you just. can't. manage. to get in there for a fucking point.
But even on top of a couple of fortuitous misses from the other team, we? played a great game. The front end was inconsistent, maybe 40% at best, but damn if the way they missed didn't give me things I could use anyway. And I called a really awesome double for my second, which I really enjoy because new players are so thrilled with doubles. And I overcurled a bit on a shot I'd meant to make for myself and got a double instead, which I hadn't really believed was there. It was that kind of night. You know how someone -- skip RS insists it's not her, but I feel like it's someone in that crowd -- keeps on saying, "I'd rather be lucky than good"? I always say no, I'd rather be lucky and good, and tonight, I was. I didn't flat-out miss a shot until the seventh end*, and I always got the roll I needed, and I skinnied past guards, or if I got a little rub it worked out in my favor. It was kismet.
We played the eighth even though the thing was mathematically over, just to get the rocks back, and I started out throwing through, like you do, and she had a couple of guards and a couple of draws, and I had a hit and stick, and one of her draws came a little heavy and knocked me behind cover to be lying one -- it was that kind of night -- but I couldn't quite guard it properly and she did a nice run-back to be lying four. And with my last shot, I said look, if it mattered, I'd go for this in-off over here, but since it doesn't, let's see if I can draw through this port about a rock and a half wide and curl behind stuff and land on the tee line for shot.
And I did.
Final scoreboard:
*it makes up, in a way, for our second game at the Kayser, in which if I made my second shot in the fourth -- which I don't remember -- then I only missed eight shots in a row, being every single shot in the back half of the game, every single one after the fourth end. (If I missed my second shot in the fourth, then I missed nine in a row. I know I made my first shot in the fourth; I just don't know whether that was the last shot I made in that game, or almost the last.)
sanj, abka, anyone else, now would be a great time to get your yenta on, if you please, before I burn up all my good fortune. [bats eyelashes]
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