I competed in my first Provincial Championship when I was 15 years old. I had received a phone call from Jaimee Gardner early in the 2002/2003 season where she asked if I would be interested in playing second for her. She already had commitments from Katie Morrissey to play vice and Karen Sagle to play lead and they thought I would be a good fit to fill out the squad. I quickly accepted her offer, even though I had never played second before. I knew that the opportunity was too good to turn down over something as silly as inexperience at a front end position.
Coached by the late Michael Moore, our team qualified through our zone and regional playdowns for the 2003 Bantam (now called U18) Provincials at our home club, Carleton Heights Curling Club in Ottawa, Ontario. Mike was the first coach I ever played for who was not a parent of anyone on the team, but he treated all of us as if we were his own kids. He would pick me up at my house and drive me to practice, taking a genuine interest in what was going on in my life. He sat behind the glass at all of our games, taking notes in his leather binder of the things we needed to review after the game. He was invested in us, he believed in us, and he deservedly took as much pride in our victories as we did.
I was so excited to be playing in a Provincial Championship. Even though we were playing in our home city, the OCA still put us up in a hotel downtown along with the rest of the competitors for the week. I had stayed in hotels before, but it was my first time staying with my team as an athlete. My sister had given me an old polo t-shirt that she had worn at her own Provincial Championships with WEAGLE printed in bold letters across the back. I felt like I had made it to the big time.
We played our first game of the tournament against Brit O'Neill's team from the GTA. The curling club had installed bleachers for the fans to watch and it was the first time I had ever played in front of a crowd that big. There was so much going on that I ended up becoming completely unfocused on the game, especially once we started to win. I was looking up to the glass a lot to see who was there, I started watching the games being played on other sheets, and I was joking around with my teammates in between every shot. Unsurprisingly, we started to lose and before I even knew what happened the game was over and we started the tournament with a 0-1 record.
I learned a hard lesson in that game. Every end, every rock, every moment is important and no lead is ever safe. You have to stay focused for the entire time or the win will slip away from you before you even notice. In a tournament like the Bantam Provincial Championship every game is important. The title of Champion was awarded to the team with the best record after the round-robin was complete. There was no playoff round.
Under Mike's guidance, our team regrouped, refocused, and went undefeated in our remaining games to finish the week with a 6-1 record. Also finishing the week with 6-1 records and in a 3-way tie for first place were the teams skipped by Brit O'Neill and Rachel Homan. Since we beat Rachel, Rachel beat Brit, and Brit beat us, there was no clear way to decide who would get the bye into the tiebreaker final. The OCA Official decided that the seeding for the tiebreakers would be decided by a draw to the button by each team. We all selected a player to throw a rock at the same time and got ready. The Official shouted "Ready? 1...2...3...GO!". We threw our rock into the opposite hack. Rachel threw her rock into the opposite hack. Brit managed to get her rock to cling onto the back 12-foot and earned the bye straight through to the final.
We played the semi-final game against Rachel on sheet 2 with blue rocks. I have mentioned in earlier posts about how terrible my memory is for specific games, but this is one that I will never forget. We played a close game and both sides were making shots. My arms and shoulders were exhausted from sweeping with my old Brownie broom all week (for those of you who don't remember, sweeping with a Brownie was like sweeping with a couch cushion. Also keep in mind that I was 16 years old and had never played front end before). The game came down to one final shot for the win: an open hit and stay for two. We made the hit, but rolled out to push the game to an extra end where we ultimately lost when Rachel made a draw to the pin with her last rock. She went on to beat Brit in the final for her first of four consecutive Bantam Provincial Champion titles.
That was the first time I lost a game where everything was on the line and we had it, but we let it slip through our fingertips. We should have beaten Brit in our first game to go undefeated in the tournament. We should have made our draw to the button and won the bye to the final. We should have beaten Rachel in the semi-final. But we didn't do any of that. We had plenty of opportunities, but we missed them. It seemed so incredibly unfair. Normally, I am a big advocate of holding in emotion until you're out of range. My philosophy is to never let them see you sweat - for better or worse. Many a scream of frustration has been let out in the team van after a loss, so much so that it has been hashtagged #parkinglotcry. But this time, I couldn't contain it and the tears started flowing the second we got down to the change room. My sister had already experienced some big game losses of her own at that point and she knew exactly what to do. She followed me downstairs, pulled me onto her lap and held me in a giant bear hug while I let it all out, all without speaking a word. When I started to calm down, she said, "Alright, now go wipe your face and get changed. You have to go back up there". She did not tell me that it was going to be okay. She did not tell me that I played well or that we put up a good fight. She knew there was nothing she could say to make the feeling of a disappointing loss go away, but she offered her shoulder and her support and it was everything I needed in that moment. Then she told me to get my shit together and hold my head up and I needed that, too.
We pulled ourselves together and went upstairs to receive recognition as semi-finalists in the curling club lounge. Our season was over and the team was disbanded. Jaimee and Karen graduated to Juniors (now called U21), but I wasn't done with bantams. I had gotten a second dose of championship-level competitive curling and I wanted to keep chasing that winning feeling.
Coached by the late Michael Moore, our team qualified through our zone and regional playdowns for the 2003 Bantam (now called U18) Provincials at our home club, Carleton Heights Curling Club in Ottawa, Ontario. Mike was the first coach I ever played for who was not a parent of anyone on the team, but he treated all of us as if we were his own kids. He would pick me up at my house and drive me to practice, taking a genuine interest in what was going on in my life. He sat behind the glass at all of our games, taking notes in his leather binder of the things we needed to review after the game. He was invested in us, he believed in us, and he deservedly took as much pride in our victories as we did.
I was so excited to be playing in a Provincial Championship. Even though we were playing in our home city, the OCA still put us up in a hotel downtown along with the rest of the competitors for the week. I had stayed in hotels before, but it was my first time staying with my team as an athlete. My sister had given me an old polo t-shirt that she had worn at her own Provincial Championships with WEAGLE printed in bold letters across the back. I felt like I had made it to the big time.
We played our first game of the tournament against Brit O'Neill's team from the GTA. The curling club had installed bleachers for the fans to watch and it was the first time I had ever played in front of a crowd that big. There was so much going on that I ended up becoming completely unfocused on the game, especially once we started to win. I was looking up to the glass a lot to see who was there, I started watching the games being played on other sheets, and I was joking around with my teammates in between every shot. Unsurprisingly, we started to lose and before I even knew what happened the game was over and we started the tournament with a 0-1 record.
I learned a hard lesson in that game. Every end, every rock, every moment is important and no lead is ever safe. You have to stay focused for the entire time or the win will slip away from you before you even notice. In a tournament like the Bantam Provincial Championship every game is important. The title of Champion was awarded to the team with the best record after the round-robin was complete. There was no playoff round.
Under Mike's guidance, our team regrouped, refocused, and went undefeated in our remaining games to finish the week with a 6-1 record. Also finishing the week with 6-1 records and in a 3-way tie for first place were the teams skipped by Brit O'Neill and Rachel Homan. Since we beat Rachel, Rachel beat Brit, and Brit beat us, there was no clear way to decide who would get the bye into the tiebreaker final. The OCA Official decided that the seeding for the tiebreakers would be decided by a draw to the button by each team. We all selected a player to throw a rock at the same time and got ready. The Official shouted "Ready? 1...2...3...GO!". We threw our rock into the opposite hack. Rachel threw her rock into the opposite hack. Brit managed to get her rock to cling onto the back 12-foot and earned the bye straight through to the final.
We played the semi-final game against Rachel on sheet 2 with blue rocks. I have mentioned in earlier posts about how terrible my memory is for specific games, but this is one that I will never forget. We played a close game and both sides were making shots. My arms and shoulders were exhausted from sweeping with my old Brownie broom all week (for those of you who don't remember, sweeping with a Brownie was like sweeping with a couch cushion. Also keep in mind that I was 16 years old and had never played front end before). The game came down to one final shot for the win: an open hit and stay for two. We made the hit, but rolled out to push the game to an extra end where we ultimately lost when Rachel made a draw to the pin with her last rock. She went on to beat Brit in the final for her first of four consecutive Bantam Provincial Champion titles.
That was the first time I lost a game where everything was on the line and we had it, but we let it slip through our fingertips. We should have beaten Brit in our first game to go undefeated in the tournament. We should have made our draw to the button and won the bye to the final. We should have beaten Rachel in the semi-final. But we didn't do any of that. We had plenty of opportunities, but we missed them. It seemed so incredibly unfair. Normally, I am a big advocate of holding in emotion until you're out of range. My philosophy is to never let them see you sweat - for better or worse. Many a scream of frustration has been let out in the team van after a loss, so much so that it has been hashtagged #parkinglotcry. But this time, I couldn't contain it and the tears started flowing the second we got down to the change room. My sister had already experienced some big game losses of her own at that point and she knew exactly what to do. She followed me downstairs, pulled me onto her lap and held me in a giant bear hug while I let it all out, all without speaking a word. When I started to calm down, she said, "Alright, now go wipe your face and get changed. You have to go back up there". She did not tell me that it was going to be okay. She did not tell me that I played well or that we put up a good fight. She knew there was nothing she could say to make the feeling of a disappointing loss go away, but she offered her shoulder and her support and it was everything I needed in that moment. Then she told me to get my shit together and hold my head up and I needed that, too.
We pulled ourselves together and went upstairs to receive recognition as semi-finalists in the curling club lounge. Our season was over and the team was disbanded. Jaimee and Karen graduated to Juniors (now called U21), but I wasn't done with bantams. I had gotten a second dose of championship-level competitive curling and I wanted to keep chasing that winning feeling.
Comments
Post a Comment