Winter Sports in Switzerland

by E. F. Benson

22. Every stone shall be eligible to count which is not clearly outside the seven-foot circle. Every stone which does not clear the hog-score shall be a hog, and must be removed from the ice.... Stones passing the back-score, and lying clear of it, must be removed from the ice, as also any stone which in its progress touches the swept snow on either side the rink.

Note.—Thus there is only a certain portion of the ice on which stones may remain during the progress of each “end” or “head.” If a player sends down a stone too weakly so that it does not reach the hog-score, or so crookedly that it goes into the swept snow at the side of the rink, or so strongly that it passes over the back-score, it is at once removed from the ice. But, strangely enough, it is nowhere laid down what the breadth of a rink should be. Somewhat pathetically this rule presupposes that there is always “swept snow” at the side of the rink, which, happily, is not the case. As a matter of fact the space allowed for each rink is, roughly speaking, about 20 feet, though I am not aware that it is laid down authoritatively anywhere. In any case a stone, to be of the slightest use, must be lying not so wide as 10 feet (lateral measurement) from the tee, and those lying wider, as well as those which have definitely passed beyond the back-score, cannot conceivedly come into play, and so may as well be removed. But the case is different with stones lying short of the hog-score, and in a straight line between the tees. Such stones, as will be readily understood, might possibly be of the utmost value to guard other stones lying in the house, and perhaps to be promoted into possible scorers. A guard, then, which is so important an item, must be put down with some skill, and with requisite strength, and thus it is laid down that stones lying short of the hog are considered not to have been sufficiently skilfully played to take part in the game and be of value to their side. These are therefore ignominiously removed.

Here, then, have been given the conditions under which, and the court, so to speak, in which, this great game is played, and we will suppose ourselves on the fast, perfect ice of a Swiss resort on a sunny morning. The skips have “picked up” their sides; every player has a broom or “besom,” which we will hope sweeps clean; the four players on each side, namely No. 1 as lead, No. 2, No. 3, and No. 4, have had their places allotted to them. As a general rule it is the skip who plays in the most difficult place—i.e. No. 4, where, if the other three players under their skip’s direction have built up an interesting house, he will have the most delicate and hazardous shots to negotiate. But it sometimes happens that the skip, who primarily should be chosen because of his knowledge of the game, may not have the requisite skill of hand for that post: it may happen that a player on his side is a finer performer in the delivery of his stones, though his skill in tactics and generalship may be inferior. In such a case the skip, who directs the place of each player, may put himself in another position, and, if he does not play as No. 4, will usually lead. Then he goes first, and can devote a mind, untroubled by the thought of the shots he will himself have to play, to the tactics of his campaign. But, as a rule, the player with the best knowledge of the game is usually the best player also, or, at any rate, is good enough for the critical post of No. 4, and in general the skip occupies that position.

Round about the crampit, behind the back-score, are ranged the sixteen stones which the players have selected, and if they are wise they will have turned them momentarily upside down, so that they rest on their handles on the ice, and their bases, or soles, are exposed to the rays of the sun. This should be done because it often happens that some fragment of broom or some little congelation of frost has frozen on to the soles, which will impede their smooth passage down the rink. But if they are slightly warmed like this, a polish on the side of the besom or on the glove will ensure their being quite free from any such impediment. In order to identify the stones of each side, it is usual to tie some fragment of ribbon to the handles or otherwise distinguish the stones of one side from those of the other, since without some such mark they are as alike as sheep, and, as is obvious, the whole game depends on the relative position of the stones of one side as opposed to that of the stones of the other. But if one side is “ribbons” and the other “plain” the skip sees at a glance, even when the house is growing most populous and complicated, how his enemies lie and what is the position of his own stones.

The skips, then, take up their positions by the house into which the stones are about to be played. Only one skip, as laid down by the rules, may be in the house at any given moment, and that skip is the skip of the player then delivering his stone. The other skip stands outside and behind the house, but ready, if the stone of his opposing side has been put down too strongly, to sweep it out of the house when it has once passed the tee. Till it reaches the tee he may not interfere with it in any way, but once past that he may (and certainly will) polish the surface of the ice over which it is going to travel for all he is worth, so as to assist it in passing through the house altogether and so be taken off the ice. If, on the other hand, his side has the house, he stands inside the house, or in front of it, calls out how he wants the stone laid, and holds his broom as a mark on to which the player is to aim his stone. On that mark the player, if he hopes to deliver a successful stone, must fix his eye with the hungry steadfastness with which he has to look at his ball at golf.

Then, in order to grasp the hang of the game, we, the invisible spectators, must leave the skip with the besom pointing on to the ice and observe the other players. Down the rink they are ranged, No. 2 of one side opposite No. 2 of the other, No. 3 opposite No. 3, leaving the centre of the ice, the “howe-ice,” as it is called, clear for the passage of the stones. Thus to No. 1, who is about to deliver his stone, the whole of the house with its seven foot radius is unimpeded. Just outside that empty riband of ice, so soon to ring with the sliding stones, stand No. 2 and No. 3, his own No. 2 and No. 3 on one side, the inimical No. 2 and No. 3 on the other. His own side should be alert for any direction from the motionless skip; the other side are sublimely indifferent, for they may not interfere with the course of his stone.

He delivers the stone: the skip, eagle-eyed, watches the pace of it. It may seem to him to be travelling with sufficient speed to reach the spot at which he desires it should rest. In this case he says nothing whatever, except probably “Well laid down.” Smoothly it glides, and in all probability he will exclaim “Not a touch”: or (if he is very Scotch, either by birth or by infection of curling) “not a cow” (which means not a touch of the besom). On the other hand he may think that it has been laid down too weakly and will not get over the hog-line. Then he will shriek out, “Sweep it; sweep it” (or “soop it; soop it”) “man” (or “mon”). On which No. 2 and No. 3 of his side burst into frenzied activity, running by the side of the stone and polishing the surface of the ice immediately in front of it with their besoms. For, however well the ice has been prepared, this zealous polishing assists a stone to travel, and vigorous sweeping of the ice in front of it will give, even on very smooth and hard ice, several feet of additional travel, and a stone that would have been hopelessly hogged will easily be converted into the most useful of stones by diligent sweeping, and will lie a little way in front of the house where the skip has probably directed it to be. If he is an astute and cunning old dog, as all skips should be, he will not want this first stone in the house at all; in fact, if he sees it is coming into the house, he will probably say “too strong.” Yet, since according to the rules only stones inside the house can count for the score, it seems incredible at first sight why he should not want every stone to be there. This “inwardness” will be explained later.

No. 1 of the other side delivers his stone: No. 1 of the first side delivers his second stone, and No. 1 of the opposing side delivers his second stone. And from this moment the whole problem of the game becomes as complicated and interesting, given that the stones perform something like that which is required of them, as does a game of chess when the first four or five moves of a recognised gambit have been played and countered. Even at so early a period of a head at curling, the possibilities of its subsequent development are almost infinite; the building up of the house may progress in a hundred different ways, and it will be possible only to consider only one or two of the problems with which the skip is confronted.

In actual “moves,” what has happened is this: the leads (No. 1) of each side have played their stones, and No. 2 on each side go up to the crampit for their turn. No. 3 on each side thereupon moves towards the crampit, while No. 1 on each side becomes the sweeper nearest the house, so that each stone as it comes down the ice may have its sweeper ready if sweeping is ordered. No. 3 (when No. 2 is playing) is nearest No. 2: he dances sideways along the ice ready to sweep if the order comes, until he delivers the stone into the keeping of No. 1, who has just played. Often, if sweeping is an urgent necessity, both he and No. 1 will vigorously scour in front of the progressing stone, since often in the ensuing situations it is not a question of additional feet that are required, but of an inch or two. There may be a stone in the house already, and it is doubtful whether an opposing stone has “legs” or vitality enough just to pass it, and thus lie nearer to the tee. In such a case all possible assistance must be rendered it; the skip will career wildly out of his house and join No. 3 and No. 1 in their operations. Anything, anything to give this dying stone an inch more of travel!... Also, a stone with smooth ice in front of it will travel more directly, that is with less curl upon it, as it is becoming moribund, than a stone which has the infinitesimal fractions of tiny frost-flower or moisture to encounter. But that opens up the awful question of “handle.”... There will be something about that in its appropriate place.

But here, at any rate, we have the rink moving. Slow stones are being encouraged to cross the hog, or to enter the house, or, even at this early stage, to cannon rudely against the stones already in the house which must be ejected. Theoretically, I think, in the ideal game of curling, which we shall never see on this side of the grave, the leads should have laid down four stones a little in front of the house, or perhaps each lead should first have put down a stone in front of the house, and then delivered their second stones with in-handle or out-handle, round their first stones, which thus become guards of their second stones, which should lie, say, in the four-foot circle. But we need not consider so perfect an opening. If any leads led like that, they would be skips of a team of archangels, who would be soundly rated for their clumsy play.