Curling at the edges

Sweep Sweep!

So, the Grand Match didn’t happen. The once-in-a-lifetime event in the curler’s almanac, the alfresco bonspiel, the traditional North versus South contest on the Lake of Mentieth for hundreds of enthusiasts of the roaring game, never got off the ground or on to the ice, to be precise. By the time the RCCC had consulted with the various services and public bodies, got all the ducks lined up, the thaw had set in, the ice was unplayable and the ducks were back on the lake.

It has become extremely difficult to organise any event without running foul of some obstructive rule or regulation. Litigation has made the term “accident” redundant. Someone is always to blame or so we are reminded daily by television adverts. This is all the more ludicrous when quantum physics tells that the universe itself is based on probability not certainty. Chance is what keeps the whole business going. The universe, it seems, keeps all its options open all the time. Nothing is fixed until we look at it and it ceases to be fixed as soon as we stop looking. At the very building blocks of matter, you can never know for certain where anything is, only the probability.

The infinite number of possibilities provided convenient escape mechanisms for Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It all comes down to Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. The more we know about one variable, the less we can know of the other. It is a fundamental law of the universe.

The Curling Club bonspiel did go ahead, thanks to the indefatigable efforts of George the blacksmith. Members were summoned, guests invited, sustenance arranged and rinks drawn, with the result of a splendid evening of sport and bonhomie.

Mind you, some of the curling did demonstrate the truth of The Principle of Uncertainty.
Simply put, the principle states that it is impossible to know both the position and the velocity of an object at the same time. Oh, how true of the curling stone. No wonder it is known as the roaring game, the noise made by the skips shouting their sweepers on and off - “Sweep sweep, harder harder, Leave it, Up Up , Oh no! Sweep sweep !” as they tried to judge the speed and the ultimate destination of a stone, would certainly justify the epithet and despite all the noise they were, mostly, no nearer solving the problem.

Perhaps the boys and girls at the Large Hadron Collider should take up curling. It certainly makes one philosophical about the fact that despite your best efforts, projected particles don't go where they should, unexpected results occur, disappointments are many and the next end is always going to be better.

Uncertainty rules!