I dare you to get in front of an Olympic Curling match (match? game? tournament?) and not become a fan. There's just something about that shiny rock (rock? stone? roundy thing?) gliding across the ice. It's hypnotic. Hypnotic.
Oh, hey Chris Plys. Didn't see you there.
What was I saying? Oh, right. So I don't really understand all of the rules. I'm working hard to catch on because that definitely is a good use of my time, but it is tricky. The announcers don't really help out as much as they could. By contrast, during uber popular televised dog shows, you hear the same rundown of the basics over and over again.
Each dog is judged against its breed's own standard. The group winners go on to compete for Best in Show. The plural of Puli is Pulik. Greyhounds are real couch potatoes. I'd like to ride that Old English Sheepdog. Thank you, Lester Holt, we get it! We totally get it!
But the depths of curling are slightly more difficult to plumb. Like when is it OK to sweep someone else's rock? Why do they place some rocks way outside of the circle when you know they totally could get them in if they wanted to? How is it that no one ever falls? I mean, that's ice they're playing on, right? How do you not trip over the other teams rocks?
Curling, you're an elusive hobby slash sport.
Oh, look. It's Chris Plys and Jason Smith and Guy in the Middle.
Right. So like I was saying, curling is just fascinating. I think it's the strategy that draws me in.
Yes, that's it. The strategy.
I heart strategy.
Speaking of strategy, can we give Minnesota a round of applause? That great state gave us F. Scott Fitzgerald, Prince, the Mayo Clinic, the Guy Who Played TV's MacGyver, Coya Knutson (If you don't know, please look her up), Joe Mauer, and now Jason Smith and Chris Plys. And the rest of The 2010 Olympic Curling Team. But mostly Jason Smith and Chris Plys. Especially Chris Plys.
Of course I'm just having a little good natured Olympic fun here. Obviously, I'm happily married and quite old enough to be his... chic neighbor. But handsome boys with Jesus tattoos don't come along everyday and so we notice.
That's right, my friends, your boy, Chris, loves The Lord. Granted, he also drags around an acoustic guitar everywhere he goes. But he's young. He'll grow out of it. Boys at that age are like puppies. They chew your favorite caged metallic sandal with 4" heel, but they're just so darned cute that you hardly mind at all. Anyway, according to NBC's profile of Chris (during which he took off his shirt to show us the "art" on his "canvas"), our young friend has a history of doing mission work. Yes, that's right. He's not just pretty, he feeds starving children.
