Tuesday, November 09, 2004

We've got a curler down!

Last night was the second time I've fallen so spectaularily at curling that teams on the sheets on either side of us stop and come over to make sure I'm okay. Thank God for all my extra padding!

Last week, we finally met the two people who would be mine and Karen's new teammates (more on that later). The new guy and I were sweeping for all we were worth, and we'd just crossed the hog line. I glanced up to see where the other rocks were so I wouldn't trip over them (because I'd totally do something like that). I felt my left heel slip out from under me and I went flying, landing flat on my back and knocking my hat off. From everyone else's perspective, it looked like I either landed on the rock or hit my head on it. At any rate, I just lay there for a few minutes, collecting my wits, while several people came running over. I was fine - merely embarassed.

However, last night's fall was worse from my perspective. Our new new team's sub and I were sweeping and were about to cross the hog line. I could feel my feet slipping, but I didn't want to stop because the rock needed all the help it could get. I think I said "I'm slipping!" and went flying; this time, I landed square on my tailbone. Unlike last time, I tried to get up right away, but the skip on the team on the sheet next to us came running (okay, slidding) over, and started hollering "Don't get up if you're dizzy!"

Okay, I admit that I can be klutzy and clueless at times, but I don't think that was the dizzy he meant. I was halfway up and stopped because my lower back was starting to get painful in a bad way, and things were still swimming. I didn't hit my head, but I think I have a minor case of whiplash (it still hurts a bit). I took a few deep breaths, and sat out the rest of the end.

Today, my tailbone hurts in the way that anything that gets bruised will, but the rest of my back isn't sore. Had I fallen on my hip, or even hit my tailbone slightly to the right of where I hit it, they would have had to take me out on a stretcher. I have a trick back - old fencing injury.

There's a "fun"spiel on Sunday, and I'm on a team with Karen, her dad, and her brother. I may invest in hobnail boots before then just in case.

(The ongoing saga of mine and Karen's lack of teammates. It was expected at the beginning of the season that there would be others signing up for the rec league without a team, so we'd round out our team that way. As it worked out, there were enough people for seventeen full teams and one half team - Karen and I. For the first two weeks, our empty slots were filled in by a series of "Special Guest Stars", such as Karen's dad, her brother, and another floater.

Last week, we were told that the organizers had finally found another couple for us to round out our team. They played one game with us, and asked to be switched to another team. Mind you, it wasn't because Karen and I suck, but because they were in their late fifties, and wanted another couple instead of a couple of hot chicks to curl with. Ha ha. As it happened, another team had lost two of their team, so the two couples now curl together. And Karen and I were still without a team.

The team we played against had a sub, and he said that he and his friend could play with us for the last three weeks. Great. Terrific. At least, for the last three weeks, we'd have some consistency.

Last night? Buddy threw his shoulder out and couldn't curl. His friend did come out, and did curl with us. And our "Special Guest Star" slot was filled by one of the other guys on the team we curled against last week. And we did the best we've done so far - it was another team of people who were all roughly the same age as us, and at roughly the same skill level. We lost on the very last rock, but it was a close game all the way through.

Next week? We'll see what happens.)