The 2001 Brier
by
Anne Yanchyshyn
Saturday, March 10, 2001:
The last end played at the Nokia Brier curling semi-final today was a thriller. Wayne Meddaugh of Ontario had built up an almost perfect end — his two rocks were in the house, with one in front as a guard to the second one sitting almost right on the button. The crowd roared approval.
But the game wasn't over. There was one more rock to be played before the winner could be declared. The Ontario team had scored one point in the previous end to tie the game, and therefore Manitoba's Terry Burtnyk had the hammer. It couldn't have been more exciting.
Eavesdropping on the team's every thought was easy — their microphones were on. "Whatever he wants," said their third, as they deliberated about gambling on a tricky shot.
Terry's decision was to go for the double.
His wife, Patti, sat in the bleachers with her hands over her face. I think we all empathized with her — we've been there ourselves at one time or another. Agony, tension were written in all her movements. She stood up, still holding her breath, and suddenly her hands shot up in the air, fists tight, head high.
Even without watching Terry's rock move down the ice, you could tell he had succeeded in making his shot — the shot that could be heard all around the curling world, the shot that propelled him and his Manitoba team into the 2001 Brier Final on Sunday afternoon — tomorrow — and a personal chance for a third Canadian Championship.
Sunday, March 11, 2001:
There is no story to tell. Our hopes were dashed as we watched the Burtnyk team lose 8-4 to Alberta's Ferby-Nedohin foursome. It didn't help to be told by the announcer that Nedohin had lived in Manitoba till four years ago; his victory was not ours to savor. I was reminded of Thayer's poem about a baseball game, "Casey at the Bat," with a similar ending. It goes something like this:
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudsville — mighty Casey has struck out.