Moving stones
What happens if you put some dedicated people together, and then task them with moving some stones. A lot of stones.
If my arithmetic skills are holding up, let’s say four people per team, with a total of about seventy games. Then, calculate that the stone must be moved an average of eighty times per game, and there are twelve teams. Oh, and the stones weigh a measured nineteen kilograms. There, homework for someone in Grade Four. And since no math problem is complete without a solution: 106,400 kg. The number of players on each team is a bit of a red herring.
I didn’t try to count the brush strokes. Maybe another time.
Seriously. I’ve spent the last few nights (mornings, afternoons) watching the World Curling championships out of Saint John. The Women, only. Men are somewhere else at another time. Good entertainment. Some joy. Some sorrow. A rare smile from certain players. All in all, much more fun than watching professional hockey, yet the ice is just as important.
Things didn’t go exactly as I hoped. Home team loyalty, etc. But there’s always next year, and silver is still shiny. For the record, Rachel Homan and her team can hold their heads high!
Enough sports coverage. The real world continues. Searching for lost aircraft. Posturing over lost territory. Realizing that we don’t do a good job, in so many areas of interest. Others; I try to do my best to get through the day. Ask the dog; he’ll tell you no lies.
