For the 12th year, Ithaca held the International Rutabaga Curling Championship.  This was my second year as a participant, and I had high hopes for bringing the trophy home to my family after last year’s knockout in the championship round.  I had a lot stacked against me this year.  The dawn of fatherhood has completely thrown off my training and sleep schedule.  I was down in NJ with the family on the morning of the curl and had to leave at daybreak just to make the registration booth in time.  The temperatures were again in the single digits and I did not dress for the weather.  But we made it to the curl in time for the opening ceremonies, the parade of nations and the turnip toss.  (If you haven’t seen pictures of the event, see my post from last year)

The goal of the competition is to roll and stop your rutabaga as close to the target as possible.  If you’re in the top 5 rolls of your round, you move on to the finals.  For this year’s competition I was the 69th competitor in the field.   When I stepped up to the line I felt good.  I wanted to keep the rutabaga short of the target, as I was disqualified by rolling too hard last year (too much adrenaline, I think.) Well, the plan worked and my roll  looked beautiful bouncing down the wood planks.  But then like an act of god, the root took a heavy turn to the left.  That turn cost me, as I ended up the 6th closest turnip of the round; missing the final by  less than an inch.  Oh, the drama.

Thanks to commissioner Steve for making this event happen every year.  You really tap into the heart of something so ridiculous, so fun and so Ithaca.

My losing curl:  

The Rutabaga Choir:  

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