Pressdog.com

Curl Up with the Olympics

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 01/24/02)

While Olympic coverage fixates on Michelle Kwan’s triple-toe loops and the oft-reconstructed Picabo Street’s downhill runs, I’ll be waiting for the multi-second network coverage of the true superstars:

Team Erickson.

That would be sisters Kari Erickson (the “skip”) and Stacey Liapis (“second”) and teammates, Debbie McCormick (“vice skip”) and Ann Swisshelm (“lead”). Check out US Curling's Web site.

Team Erickson -- curling teams are named after the skip or captain -- is ready to go eyeball-to-eyeball with sundry Bulgarians and Hungarians. If everything works out, they’ll bring the gold home to where it belongs: Bemidji, Minnesota.

Bemidji (population 11,917, located 235 miles northwest of Minneapolis -- striking) is Kari and Stacey’s hometown and the U.S. curling capital. Bemidji has produced 20 national champion teams since 1979. Some 230 kids take curling classes at Bemidji high school. Bemidji is the only place parents may get irate when their kid doesn’t start or get enough playing time on the curling team.

Curling is one of those Olympic events that will get about 34 seconds of coverage on TV while Michelle Kwan changes her skates. Near as I can tell, the object of curling is to slide the aforementioned stone (known as a “rock” in curling lingo) across ice, positioning it strategically to either knock or block opponents’ rocks or slide smartly into the scoring area, which looks like a big bull’s-eye.

Think shuffleboard on ice. The “skip” is the team captain, chief strategist and last stone slider. Whoever slides the rock does so by crouching in a bowling-release position and sliding along the ice while holding onto the stone handle until releasing it at just the right second. Then the “sweeps” (one on each side) spring into action. They can use little broom-like devices to polish or rough up the ice around the stone as it slides so as to correct its course. They can’t touch the stone, of course.

This often results in a furious scrubbing to get that last, one-inch change in position at the end. But even cooler than what curlers do is what they are. Curlers are you and me. Everyday people. Working at Home Depot or as an aquatics instructor for the school system. Salt-of-the-earth, helping-out-strangers, screw-the-motel-your-staying-at-our-house people.

You know, people from Bemidji. According to an extremely excellent article on www.startribune.com by Jay Weiner, the 2002 U.S. Olympic women’s curling team was recently feted with a beer, cold cuts and cake reception in Bemidji. Rumor has it there were cocktail weenies involved, so you know it was B-I-G, big. A state senator showed up. Huge.

See, that’s my America. Small-town, vaguely introverted America. This whole Britney Spears concert and laser show, 74,001 people, President jetting in Tight Security America is, well, nice, but you can have it. I’d rather hang in Bemidji where “tight security” means inviting the town policeman to the reception.

And I know who will cry more when the gold medals are handed out. The curling teams. They’ll blither like children because they understand how profoundly blessed anyone is to even compete in the Olympics. They’re filled with the Olympic Spirit. Their entourage of relatives, something like 30-odd nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents and family grocers will be proud of them if they get dead last and will weep to the point of dehydration for any medal.

And the guy who could really bawl is the coach, Mike Liapis, father of Kari and Stacey. Mr. Former Vietnam Infantryman would squirt tears all over the ice from the first note of the national anthem. Are you kidding? He can’t even talk about going to the Olympics without having to take a minute to compose himself.

I can’t even think about him sharing a gold medal with his daughters without getting teary. Although my daughters, Jena and Haley, would probably get the first-ever curling penalty for high sticking -- each other. Jena would swing the broom at Haley touching off an intra-squad melee that only ends when I sit them both in time out and take away computer time amid the chorus of “no-fair!”

But if the girls did win the gold medal, the paramedics would have to start a saline I.V. on me keep the defib paddles greased and ready. Oh, the competition will be tough. The World Champion Nova Scotians will be there. The always-tough Swedes. The stoic-yet-large-boned Austrians and the focused Germans. Team USA will be a decided underdog.

After it's all over, the teams will get together over beer, cake and cold cuts. It's curling, not life-and-death brain surgery, after all.

So go ahead and enjoy the high-profile performers like Michelle Kwan. She’s an amazing athlete and reportedly nice person. I’m sure an Olympic medal would mean the world to Michelle, Picabo and the other stars.

But I think Michelle will understand if I say a medal for the curlers would mean more to me.

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