Winter Sports in Switzerland

by E. F. Benson

As a matter of fact, what usually happens in a good team is this sort of thing. The first man to play miscalculates the speed of the ice (though he is quite a good player) and is soundly hogged. His opposing No. 1, being too frightfully intelligent, and profiting by that which he has seen, puts down a stone that passes the tee, and rests perhaps in the seven-foot circle beyond it. And though that stone for the moment “counts”: that is to say it is in the house, and, theoretically, may be a winner, it will not in real practice be of any good when the head is finished. There is bound to be a better stone than that, and any other stone over the hog that lies in front of the house, though not counting at present, is far superior, for it can be promoted (i.e. brought nearer the tee) by any stone that strikes it, whether of its own side or of the enemy, and thus is both dangerous to the other side and helpful towards its own. Also it can become the most valuable guard for a stone that has curled round it and lies in the house and behind it, whereas the stone that comes to rest beyond the tee can, if struck, only travel further away from the tee instead of towards it.

The two leads put down their second stones. They have gauged the speed of the ice, and this time do as their skip tells them. They both put down stones that come to rest just in front of the house, or perhaps just in it. But if either of them make what would be the most perfect shot of all, if they were playing the last shot of No. 4, namely one that rests on the tee itself, or in the 2½-foot circle (called the pot-lid), he has not done probably as much for his side as if he had laid his stone just in front of the house, for No. 2 of the other side follows, and he has only to be straight irrespective of too great speed to dislodge that perfect stone and in all probability lie there himself. A guarded stone in such a position is the most valuable stone that can be imagined, but without a guard its worth is enormously decreased. Indeed it is positively a dangerous stone, since it gives the other side something to rest on.

We will suppose, then, that when No. 2 plays there are lying on the ice two stones, both a little in front of the house, one right in the middle of the ice, the other three or four feet to the side of it. The object now will probably be to get past those stones, and, by the twist imparted to the stone No. 2 now delivers, to lie behind one or other of them in the house, and thus be guarded. If this shot is perfectly played there will be lying a stone close up to the tee and incapable of being directly attacked (i.e. by a hard shot played down straight on to it), for the guarding stone in front of the house prevents this, and it is a very different thing to be obliged to play round this guarding stone so as to hit the other. Thus it may be necessary for the opposing skip to direct that this guard should be removed by a fast straight stone, so as to open up the house again. But this costs a stone, even if successful, and stones are not lightly to be squandered. Should this shot come off, the first skip will probably direct that another guard be laid to protect this asset in the house. Having once got a stone in a probably winning position, the skip is right to guard it and to guard it and to guard it, directing that stones should be laid to right and left of it, so as to block the passage of a stone which, by curling inwards or outwards, can reach and dislodge it, and perhaps lie there in its place. Practically speaking, a stone which lies close to the tee should be guarded at the cost of every stone belonging to the side if necessary (i.e. if the guards are being removed by the enemy), and no skip in his senses will direct his player to put other stones in the house until he has rendered reasonably secure from attack the stone of his which lies close to the tee.

The above analysis of these early stones takes, of course, only one case out of the hundred ways in which they may lie, and gives but one instance of the value of stones lying in front of the house, rather than (in the early stages of the game) in the house. Among other values they possess they are also capable of being promoted—i.e. a subsequent player may be directed to hit one of them gently, so as to push it into the house, while his will lie there in its place guarding it. Or he may be told, if the stone in question is lying rather wide, to get an inwick off it—i.e. play on to the inner side of it, as in the manner of a half-ball shot at billiards, and, cannoning off it, slip into the house himself. Perhaps it will be an enemy’s stone selected for this manœuvre, and perhaps, also, he will hit the wrong side of it (i.e. the outer side), and instead of slipping into the house himself, will kindly promote the other stone instead. Thus these stones in front of the house are both an asset and a danger, and it is not too much to say that their presence, lying there, is about the largest constituent in the interest of the “end” and the building of the house. They present, as has been seen, infinite possibilities of value and menace. And all their terrific potentialities have to be weighed and pondered by the skip.

When twelve stones have been put down (i.e. when the first three players on each side have contributed two each) the skips, if playing four, leave the house and go down to the crampit to deliver their stones. One in all probability looks troubled, the other in that case will almost certainly wear a face of benignant elation and call attention to the beauty of the morning. Their places in the house to direct and hold the guiding besom are taken by other members of their side (probably the No. 3s), and before they go they will almost certainly hold a secret and muttered conversation with these gentlemen, consulting and conferring over the shots to be attempted. For by this time the situation, if the play has been respectable, is sure to have become complicated. Very likely four or five stones are in the house, and of those four or five all but one may happen to belong to one side. But that one is sitting there on the very tee itself, and thus takes precedence of all the others. If only it could be got at and evicted and soundly butted out of the house, the other four would all count. But it lies well guarded, for just in front of the house are two stones a little to right and left of it. There is clear ice (a “port” as it is called) of not more than two feet between them, through which it is possible to send a stone that will reach that tee-sitter. But, oh, how small a two-foot port looks at the distance of nearly forty yards!

Now, it is to the first skip that this by-every-means-in-his-power-to-be-guarded stone belongs, and with justice he fears that his opposing skip is perfectly capable of sailing blandly through that rather narrow port, butting the stone that lies so perfectly on the tee out of the house altogether, and lying there himself instead. So he has elected to play a shot that will close up that port and leave the stone on the tee for the moment impregnable. He wants to lie just over the hog and no more, for the nearer a stone is to the hog the more it blocks the passage. So, calling on his sweepers to be ready to sweep (“Sweepers wake!” in fact), he puts down his stone with in-handle on it, directing this a little

“SHE LIES”

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams