Hiding and Sliding

Current events time here in Betland.

First of all, yes, it's hot off the presses, the newly famous Harry Whittington is now back in intensive care after suffering a "silent heart attack." (What, the White House is going to let him have a loud one?)

Apparently a small pellet lodged around Whittington's heart, and so the attack (very mild, very very mild!) occurred, and even though he's in intensive care, all is well, do not worry your pretty heads about any of this at all, and let's get back to the business of running the country.

Of course, Harry Whittington is actually dead. He died the moment he was shot in the face by Dick Cheney. We weren't told anything, of course, until a news station saw his unfortunate ass being hauled to the hospital, and so began the spin. And we were told it was nothing, not a thing, just the tiniest of gun mishaps, no worse than getting flicked with a feather.

And then we found out he was in intensive care. And now he's back in intensive care because of his "heart attack." Who wants to bet the scenario will unfold as such - a stay in intensive care, a very minor, not even a real stroke, just a strokette, leading to a coma long enough for us, what with our short attention spans and all, to forget Whittington ever existed, then...he'll die. Only not really, because he died over the weekend.

And I may have only been three years old and many states away, but I saw a second man on the grassy knoll, too.

And now, on to more important current events. Curling! YES!

(I just started three paragraphs with "and." I'll try not to do that anymore.)

So (wasn't that better?) - you may have thought I was being facetious during my Olympic update last night when I showed unabashed enthusiasm for the beginning of the curling competition. But think again, my friends.

For I'm willing to believe that curling has become a phenomenon, albeit a small and partially undiscovered one, and I'm all caught up in the hoopla.

Yesterday I watched my first full curling match. Those plucky Americans took on the cold and calculating Nords. Or is that Njords. Anyway, I found myself getting really caught up in this whole curling thing. Even though by the end I still wasn't quite sure what it was all about.

Here's what I can glean from curling. Two teams of three people go out on some really white ice with a red and blue target at the end of it. Each team has a pile of things that look like granite tea kettles. Now, one person on the team, the curler, I'm suspecting he's called, takes a tea kettle and twirls it around a few times, then lets it fly down the ice. And while it's having its slide, the other two guys (or gals, there's women's curling as well) take little black brooms and run along their kettle, sweeping like hell, sweeping the ice about two inches in front of the kettle. Then, if a team's lucky, their kettle lands somewhere on the target. And then it's the next team's go.

So the next team takes a tea kettle and has at it. And if they're lucky, their kettle lands on the target as well. And if they're even luckier, their kettle lands on the target and hits the other team's kettle and dislodges it from its place on the target. When this happens I get a feeling akin to having Alan Arkin call me up and declare his undying love for me.

And now the game is on. There's tea kettle sliding and sweeping and running and kettles hitting each other and slipping around, and, well, I just can't tell you the excitement this all causes. And people clap and cheer, probably because they know what's going on, and it's just a fine old time.

But with every kettle-slide, things get more complicated. This is because we're now in the portion of the game where strategy comes into play. For one has to slide one's kettle in just the right position to hit the target, dislodge another man's kettle - and land somewhere where the other man can't dislodge his! Oh, God, hang on. I need a cold drink.

Whoo. That's better. Now, once the strategic movements start, we get the teams looking thoughtfully at the target, and the kettles thereon, rubbing their chins and discussing what-where-how-and-why with the kettle they're about to slide and sweep. Sometimes these discussions take 10 or more minutes. And while the teams are discussing all this kettle action, they're allowed to pick up a thing that looks like a hat rack with no hats on it. It's a pole with a round base. And they start scraping it around over the target, mapping out where they might want to lodge their next kettle. The other team can see them doing this, they're only a few feet away, but it seems to make no difference. They just drag that hat rack around like nobody's business and decide their next move.

This goes on for about 10 rounds. And during each round points are given. And this is where things get a little hazy for me. Because as hard as it may be for you to believe, I haven't really figured out the scoring part yet. This became crystal clear to me yesterday when the USA slid a fantastic tea kettle on their very last go, it landed in the target and dislodged a Njord kettle, and the US team still lost. Huh? "Wait!" I kept yelling at my TV. "Go back to that! We got kettles in the target, man! We pushed their kettles out!"

However, it was not to be, the Americans walked over to the Njords and shook their hands, and my team had been defeated, without even chewing out the judges, whose place it is to look and see that all kettles are thrown and swept with the utmost of sportsmanship.

I guess this makes me still a novice in the world of curling. But I'm learning. I'm learning, and I'll get there by the end. Or by 2010, anyway.

There are a few peripherals re the by-gum world of curling that you might like to know. First of all, the teams dress like bowlers. Minus the shoes with the size appliqued on the back. Second of all, the myopic are welcomed in the world of curling with open arms. Lots of curlers with glasses. And third of all, curling fans are fun people. I know this to be true because of the woman in the stands wearing a hat that looked like a giant curling tea kettle resting upon her elderly head.

Another thing you might like to know. The curling action takes place on CNBC, and the anchors assigned to cover it are having fun. This could possibly be because they are drunk. Because occasionally, in between quiet comments of, "Good curl, excellent curl, that," they'll show the anchors, and they'll glance at each other with a look that can only say, "Who in the fucking hell did we piss off at NBC?" You can almost see the giggles ready to escape. Yesterday they had a guest in the booth and presented him with a large and rather unfortunate bread product, a big bun with a croissant sticking out the top if it, a curling kettle made of pastry.

They also have one of the coolest sportscasting aids I've ever seen. A big white erasable board, with a target printed on it - and - itty bitty tea kettles so they can recap kettle throws and show strategies. You know, I used to want one of those giant maps of Europe the army always had in World War II movies, so I could slide cookies around from France to Poland. Now all I want is my own little erasable curling board, complete with baby kettles.

My birthday's this month, you know.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what did Whittington say right before getting shot in the face? And dying?
- First of all, a special overall "Free Pass To Anger Management" award goes to Stennie. It's OK, Stenns. I hate them that much, too.
- Honorable Mention goes to Jellybean, with her "Iraq never boasted no guns, Cheney."
- Runner-up goes to Kellie, with her "I need billions now. Gun? Cheney!"
- And this week's winner goes to DeepFatFriar with his "Iraq? Never bought nothing George claimed."
- Everyone won something. That means I have to go hunting with Cheney. Thanks to all who played!
* First great name of the Olympics. Chinese speed skater Manli Wang. Manli Wang, by the way, is a woman.
* I'm enjoying the snowboarding a large amount. Mainly because the competitors all look like they're on drugs, and their outfits look like pajamas.