Back in the hack for year 3 of curling

That was the conclusion of the final end of my second year of curling (it's not my shot). We were playing yellow, but an attempt to use the dial tool dislodged a stone so we called it a tie. Our skip, Joe, won the sudden-death draw to the button.

That was the conclusion of the final end of my second year of curling (it’s not my shot). We were playing yellow, but an attempt to use the dial tool dislodged a stone so we called it a tie. Our skip, Joe, won the sudden-death draw to the button.

I started my third full year in curling two weeks ago at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns. It was great to get back to a sport that I’ve come to enjoy over the past two years.

Considering that my involvement in the sport has ramped up in the past few years (including attending the World Men’s Curling Championship in Las Vegas and volunteering for a national event in Salt Lake City), I thought it would be fun to share some of my experiences on the ice. I’m not a competitive curler by any stretch of the imagination, but I definitely hope to continue getting better and make a positive contribution to whatever team I’m playing on.

My team in Monday curling league (Team 20/20) ended the winter season on a high note. We fought from behind to tie the opposing team in the B bracket playoffs on March 26.

In the final end, I inadvertently set in motion what would eventually result in a tie (that’s the photo at the top of this post). The tie led to a sudden-death draw to the button that our skip, Joe, won.

In that final end, I was playing second on a three-person team (that means I threw the 4, 5 and 6 red stones out of eight). Thanks to the shooting of our lead, Andrew, we were sitting shot but there was a gap that someone could shoot to get closer to the button (as the team with the stone closest to the button scores).

My task was to put up a guard in that gap to prevent the opposing team (The Icemen) from taking advantage of the opening. My first couple attempts didn’t pan out.

My third and final shot also missed as a guard — it drew into the gap (or port, in curling lingo) and rested near the button. It was a nice shot that didn’t immediately hurt us, but it created an opening for the opposing yellow team (which had the advantage of throwing the final stone of the end).

The opposing vice skip (who shoots third out of four) threw a shot similar to mine and pushed my last rock out of the way.

From there, it was a back-and-forth effort between the two teams. Our skip, Joe, followed the same line and knocked the yellow stone out of the way. The yellow team skip delivered the same shot and pushed our red stone back slightly.

That led to a crucial moment in the end and the game — who has the shot? If it’s us on the red team, it would be prudent to put up a guard and end this bit of shooting practice. From my perspective as the vice skip, I thought it was close but the advantage was ours.

(As an aside, it didn’t make sense to try the draw shot again because our red stone was behind the tee line — it could’ve been used by the yellow team as a backstop, allowing them to sit fully on the center of the button and claim the win.)

Joe successfully put up a guard, clogging the port that we had all found success through. It forced the yellow team to make a difficult shot that they couldn’t convert. They would’ve basically had to run into two of their stones for a chance to push their stone closest to the button just a centimeter forward.

Here’s what team yellow faced:

In the last shot of the final end of the winter 2018 Monday league, the yellow team faced a difficult shot to try to get their stone closest to the button on March 26, 2018, at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns.

In the last shot of the final end of the winter 2018 Monday league, the yellow team faced a difficult shot to try to get their stone closest to the button on March 26, 2018, at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns.

The photo doesn’t show the red stone sitting in the outer green circle (called the 12-foot) at roughly the 10 o’clock position.

After each team has thrown their eight stones, it’s up to the vice skips to agree on who actually scored. If it’s not possible from visual observation, there’s a measuring device that can be used. It was the star of the Winter Olympics whenever it was used on TV and it came into play that night in March.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of mixup in the measurement. Because the stones were so close to each other, the measurer tried to measure the outside of the stones. That doesn’t work for many reasons, particularly because the sensor doesn’t bend in that direction.

Trying to sweep the measuring dial past our red stone simply pushed the rock out of the way slightly. We were given the opportunity to reset our stone, but I noted that there was really no way to do it in a way that was fair especially because we were trying to measure its original position and that was no longer possible.

With measuring out of the question, both teams concluded that it was easiest to declare that it was a tie and that no team scored that end (called a blank).

(Another aside: We were uncertain about the rules when it came to measurements and it led to a Reddit discussion on the matter. The curling rules do address the situation, which will be helpful moving forward. We didn’t know it at the time and I was happy both teams agreed to call it a tie.)

The tie set up the draw to the button, where each team’s skip throws one stone to try to get closest to the center of the house.

Joe made the shot and we won our playoff. It was an exhilarating end to a great night of curling. Even before the yellow team took their last shot in the final full end, it was exciting that we had to come back from being down 3-0 after the first end and stole a point in the fifth end to tie everything up heading into that crucial sixth end.

Here’s the box score:

Our match was for the B bracket championship which was set up for the teams in the middle of the pack in our league. We entered the playoffs seeded eighth and I was more than happy to emerge as the “best of the rest” of our league night.

The members of Team 20/20 — from the left, Joe, Andrew and Ryan — pose after receiving medals for winning the "B" bracket during the winter 2018 Monday curling league at the Utah Olympic Oval.

The members of Team 20/20 — from the left, Joe, Andrew and Ryan — pose after receiving medals for winning the “B” bracket during the winter 2018 Monday curling league at the Utah Olympic Oval.

This season, I’m on a changed up team. We started off with a win, but have since run into some trouble. Next time, I’ll recap how the year has started.

10+1 images from my first year back in Utah

At the end of May, I marked the first anniversary of my returning to Utah. To celebrate the occasion, I reviewed the photos I took from the past 365 days and picked ten that highlighted some of the fun activities from 2016-17. There’s also a bonus picture — the first photo I took upon my return.

Click any photo to embiggen…

Utah’s state liquor stores — An outsider’s look at a unique booze wonderland

Over the summer, I spent my vacation in Salt Lake City. During a walk through the Sugar House neighborhood, I entered one of Utah’s State Liquor Stores for the first time.

Outside the state liquor store in Sugar House

Outside the state liquor store in the Sugar House neighborhood of Salt Lake City, Utah in July 2011.

I honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but it was mildly interesting. While it appeared to be better stocked than a typical supermarket (minus beers modified for sale in regular grocery stores), it was considerably less than a Beverages and More. Call them a “BevLess.”

Although I’ve lived and visited Salt Lake off and on for my entire life, I never really noticed the nondescript stores until after turning 21. It’s kind of an odd oversight because there was one about two blocks from my great-grandparents house (it’s now closed in a cost-cutting move that may or may not be working).

On the other hand, the state Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control says its mission is to make liquor available, but not to promote sales. Mission accomplished, based on my experience. The store’s red brick exterior is devoid of advertising and there are notices on the door saying no one under 21 allowed without a parent or guardian.

I was actually looking for an old bowling alley when I found the Sugar House liquor store tucked next to the roaring interstate. I was scouting some beer for a friend so I decided to go in.

Since I was looking for brews, I spent most of the time in the beer section and I was surprised by the relatively decent selection. There was a selection of Sierra Nevada (including Bigfoot!) and even the more rare Anchor Steam. I also saw the most variety of Molson outside of Canada.

Inside the store

A look inside the State Liquor Store in the Sugar House neighborhood on Sept. 16, 2011.

One thing I didn’t find was the specific brand of beer I was looking for. Fortunately, I later found it was widely available at many fine grocery stores, like the nearby Whole Foods or Dan’s.

The prices weren’t horrible as far as I could tell, but maybe that was by design. In another quirk, beer in the store is sold on a per-bottle basis. Based on the empty six-pack cases, I guess it opens up the possibility of mixing and matching your selection.

The pricing can be deceiving. A single bottle of Anchor Steam was $1.99, making a six-pack about $11.94 in Utah. That’s about $3 more than in Chico.

The staff and customers also appear to be nice considering that I pestered them with questions of Salt Lake of yore — namely that pesky bowling alley. I first asked the clerk if he remembered if there was a bowling alley where a 24 Hour Fitness is now. As a relative newcomer, he didn’t know. I turned to a slightly older woman who I (perhaps wrongly) assumed she would know. She didn’t, but they were both seemed nice about my slightly off-key questions.


Visiting the store with family

My sister poses outside the State Liquor Store during a return visit on Sept. 16.

Follow-up: I returned to the store in September. My family was buying some items for an impromptu memorial and stopped by, looking for wine. (BTW, my dad remembered the bowling alley.)

We settled on a bottle of wine and some Pimm’s liquor. My mother and sister appeared to be impressed at the selection available. In addition to Pimm’s, which I had never heard of before, there was also a wine that my sister’s friend distributes.

Although I’ve lived in places where the state strictly controls the sale of alcohol, Utah’s state-owned stores are something else — almost otherworldly. In a way, going into these heavily regulated spaces reminded me of going to a bar for the first time after turning 21.

We were impressed by the store’s variety, but we also joked at some aspects that seemed “off” — like an oddly constructed wireframe wine rack where a bottle tilted up for examination could slip through the frame and fall to the ground. That caused a bit of a surprise, but thankfully the bottle didn’t break.

I also thought it’s faintly absurd that the state government is selling alcohol. On my way out of the store, I joked that the cashiers should end transactions by saying “The state of Utah thanks you for your purchase.”

I don’t think the cashiers were very amused.

Top image: Outside the state liquor store in the Sugar House neighborhood of Salt Lake City, Utah in July 2011.

Submerging in the city of Salt Lake

In the spring, I went back to my hometown of Salt Lake City for a grandparent’s 80th birthday party. It was too short of a visit, and I left with a desire to return soon.

Part of the visit included updating my memory banks and comparing the SLC-That-Was to the SLC-That-Is.

I suppose noticing changes is a fairly common thing when people return to their old towns after being away. I can imagine people comparing how San Francisco or Oakland has changed in the past 10-15 years. In fact, I remember my high school history teacher bemoaning the changes to his small town of Roswell, Ga. after its population exploded during the 1980s.

I kidded with my family that I was catching up with what’s new so I could hold my own in a conversation. In reality, my family and friends have been quite generous in sharing information about what has changed over the years.

There were all these little details — oh, they opened up a new highway to Ogden; they shut down a historic building with a prominent nightspot; they’re still working on that replacement for the old downtown malls; the city has a soccer team and it has a new stadium; etc.

Amid the changes, I also tried to remember items that had gone missing in the past few years (and before that). During my trip last summer, I noticed that there was only one Union Pacific shield on the old UP depot (which has been integrated into a mall). The other shield had been on the opposite side facing the freeway — the holes for the mounting brackets seem to still be there.

Because I’m a huge dork who wants to recall as many of these little details as possible — here is a not-inclusive list of some of the changes to landmarks I’ve noticed in the past eight years:

  • Three shopping malls have been demolished. Two of them were standouts in my memories of downtown — the Crossroads Mall and the ZCMI Center. The other one, Cottonwood, was OK at the then-outskirts of town, but had a nice comic book store.
  • The Gateway Center opened (which appears to have prompted the other closures/re-envisionings of shopping).
  • The Hansen Planetarium relocated from a great old house across from ZCMI Center to the Gateway (and is now the Clark Planetarium)
  • The large pale blue map of the Earth at the airport’s Terminal One is still there, but now a TSA security line runs over it (no more rushing to mark where Salt Lake is and where our family is going).
  • Rancho Bowl was torn down (I suspected, but my uncle confirmed it when we were driving on North Temple).
  • Another bowling alley off of Redwood Road was torn down.
  • Japantown looks so small among the other downtown developments (I also learned it’s called Japantown).
  • The communities of Bountiful and Centerville have changed a lot as well. Old landmarks are torn down (like Five Points) or completely renovated (like Slim Olsen’s). New shopping centers too.
  • Of course, the drinking laws have changed somewhat over the years.

Here are some things that changed before 2000 (when I still visited often):

  • Derks Field was rebuilt into Franklin Quest/Franklin Covey/Spring Mobile Ballpark.
  • The miniature golf course at Ritz Bowl was removed.
  • The swimming pool building where my mom took me for water lessons in 1982 closed and apparently cleared to make way for the LDS Conference Center.
  • The light-rail system, TRAX, opened (although I didn’t use it until 2008).
  • Man, I didn’t realize how close the Delta Center was to the old Buddhist temple. I also didn’t realize that the Salt Palace was also across the street.

Then, there are some things that I seem to remember, but can’t verify:

  • The skating rink/ice company in Sugar House burned down.
  • Wasn’t there an outdoor skating rink outside the KSL broadcasting center? I know it’s now at Gallivan Center.

While I’m trying to compare the new city versus the old city, I realize that my efforts will inevitably come up short. My memories of the past have begun to fade (mom had to correct me about where the swimming pool was) and my recent surveys have been brief.

There are past and current realities, but I guess they will be different from the SLC of my mind.

Photo: I don’t have a lot of digital photos of Salt Lake City, so this July 2008 photo of me in front of a giant poster of American Idol contestant David Archuleta at Murray High School in Murray, Utah will have to suffice.

Farewell, Utah liquor law that never directly affected me

The "Lost" spike and the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad

The “Lost” spike and the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad

This is going to be a weird post because it’s about a liquor law from my homestate of Utah that I never really ran into, but I could have — before today. In the past, bars were “private clubs” where customers had to buy a “membership” before you could enter and buy a drink (or else be a guest of a member). It was an interesting hurdle for people who are used to something different (or normal).

The private club memberships went away at midnight MDT, and with them went my last chance to become a “member” under this unusual law.

In the end, I kinda wanted to get a private membership. Yes, it’s weird that I would want to get a private membership for the sake of getting one. Did I ever mention to you that I wanted to visit a Quizno’s in Seattle?

Don’t get me wrong, being a member of a private club in Utah was probably less cool than becoming a member of the National Geographic Society or Consumers Union, or wearing a Members Only jacket. It never came up when I was growing up (because I was obviously a minor). I’ve only been back a few times since turning 21.

When I visited Salt Lake City in July 2008, I thought I might need to buy a membership when tagging along with a friend who now lives in the city. Alas, the opportunity never came up in three chances.

  1. An evening concert in the park had a beer garden. They checked ID, but there was no membership requirement.
  2. On a separate day, we went to a brewery in Trolley Square. No membership was needed — apparently breweries could sell their wares without them.
  3. The last chance came when we went to get brunch on a Sunday. It’s a nice restaurant with a bar area. Surely, I would need to pay for a membership here. No dice, my friend knew a member on staff and we were admitted as guests.

While I may have missed my chance to become a “member,” it’s still not too late for me to become utterly confused by Utah’s new liquor laws. The private clubs are essentially gone, but will be replaced with “social clubs” and “dining clubs,” each with different, yet similar rules. On top of that are full-service restaurants and beer taverns which can serve alcohol but follow another set of rules. A short rundown is here.

These changes only address clubs. If you wanted to buy a six-pack of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale to enjoy in the comfort of your home, you still need to go to a state liquor store.

Photo: The photo behind the “Lost Spike” at the California State Railroad Museum shows the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad at Promontory Summit, Utah in 1869. Here’s a better look. I saw the workers holding up champagne and was intrigued that alcohol was used to commemorate this landmark event that happened in Utah.