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Featured now:
A look at some of the lesser-known
sports of the Winter Games
Twice, I showed up as scheduled. Twice, I competed against myself. And I still finished second — you guessed it — twice.
The 2010 Bill Burt Olympics began with hope, dreams and enthusiasm, not to mention a wing and prayer. The idea was to participate in three of those lesser known Winter Olympic events that we only see and hear about every four years.
There was only one caveat — figure skating was not an option.
Curling was the first and most obvious choice.
It's not only a relatively new Winter Olympic sport, but I had heard about a local curling facility in Nashua, N.H. And the 2006 World Championships were held right around the corner, at Tsongas Arena in Lowell.
While I didn't admit this to any of my buddies, I believe I watched as much curling in the last Winter Olympics as I did any other event. So this was a no-brainer.
The second event was going to be the biathlon. That's cross country skiing and shooting... with a rifle.
But there were a couple of problems with this one. First, I hate guns. I REALLY hate guns. When I've gone to paintball events in the past, my secret is to hide for as long as possible until somebody finds me and shoots me.
The other problem was finding a location. Presque Isle, Maine, which is about a nine-hour drive from the Merrimack Valley, is the hot-bed for East Coast biathlon wannabes.
Well, unless it's a Super Bowl in New Orleans, I'm not spending nine hours traveling. So this eventually turned into a no-go.
The third event was the luge.
I've always loved the luge and even thought I could do it. I like speed. I like sledding. And I love water slides, where I've mimicked the luge while going down. I swear that my thick body is made for sports related to gravitational pull.
But again, the location was a problem. The closest luge facility is in Lake Placid, N.Y. I just didn't have it in me accept an invitation from the Adirondack Luge Club — "We'd love to have you," one member stated &mash; which rents space on the famed luge facility on Saturday nights.
My last option was short-track speedskating. Not only have I enjoyed watching this crazy event, but I was a decent skater as a boy growing up in Quincy. I loved swimming on frozen ponds, and I had decent speed... with an emphasis on "had."
This could be fun. Even better, there was a rink in Walpole (Iorio Arena) that offered time to the Bay State Speedskating Club three times a week.
One phone call later, I was in.
So the Burt Olympics and its two measly events were set — curling and short-track speedskating.
First came curling.
I went to the three-sheet facility at Nashua Country Club and was impressed. Not only was there a bar, but the playing area was pristine. Three high-definition televisions showed the target area farthest from the sitting area so they could see the "stones."
While I got my lesson, an hour before the weekly matches were to begin, the members started rolling in. I expected about six or eight people. Instead, it was about 30. I had no idea there were that many people who even cared about curling.
What I learned about curling was two-fold. It's hard. And you have to be in shape to do it. Whether you're sweeping or throwing, it's anything but easy.
Balance, strength, touch and pressure — these people play to win! — are every bit as important here as they are on the golf course.
"If you're not in shape, you will struggle," said Leo Lambert, who not only is a member at Nashua CC Curling Club, but is also president of the Merrimack Valley Curling Club. "I know it doesn't look that way on TV, but there is so much strategy. It's easy to tell a good player. They can really think on the ice."
By the time I was done with my half-hour lesson, I felt worse than I did before I walked into the facility.
About 20 of the 30 people at the club were in their 60s. And they were serious.
They were very good at not only placing the 42-pound stone exactly where they had planned, but also at moving it anywhere from two inches to a foot over the last dozen feet. I was amazed.
I got accolades from my teachers as a "good" beginner. They were nice. I was a good sport and that's it.
But I had fun. And I realized this really is a skill and deserving of a spot in the Olympics.
Short-track speedskating was a different animal altogether.
I had visions of bruises, particularly on my thighs. That Dan Jansen advertisement where he falls on the ice hours after hearing about his sister's death during the 1984 Winter Olympics stuck in my head.
And then once I was dressed and ready to go on the ice, I was handed some sort of towel-like material to put around my neck.
"Just in case you catch a blade," said a 10-year-old boy named Alex, "you want to have protection."
It was official. I was scared.
I had come to realize that this was serious and fast racing. And the clock doesn't matter. You race among three or four competitors.
I started slowly and had the support of the dozen or so speedskaters. There were two things I had trouble coming to grips with: One, the blades were too darn long, and two, you have to trust the edges of the skates when you make the sharp right turn at each end of the rink.
My 10-year-old friend, who looked like a mini-version of Apolo Ohno, the guy who basically put short-track speedskating on the map in America, offered his support.
"What time did you get on that last lap... 18.2 (seconds)?" he said. "I guess that's pretty good."
I asked him what his time was on his last lap. He smiled, "Oh, it was a lot faster than that."
By the end of the practice, I was beginning to get it a little bit, particularly making the turns and trusting the inside edges of the blade while leaning to my right.
My best lap was my last one, at 14.2 seconds. Everybody cheered. I honestly felt like a winner.
When the hour was up, I was beat. The bottom of my back was stiff. My thighs were quivering as I took off my Spiderman-like one-piece outfit. I sat there on the locker room bench wishing I was jumping into bed instead of my car for a 60-minute drive home.
"Tomorrow is when you'll really feel the pain," said coach Nate Bolton, as I carried my clothes toward the front door.
I smiled on the outside, but inside, I was crying.
While I enjoyed both sports, what struck me most about curling and speedskating were the people I met while participating.
I was struck by their generosity and the fact that neither group clamored for press coverage or free ads looking for new members.
They not only loved their sports, but they really appreciated a knucklehead like me giving it a try.
But I still have one lingering question after my personal Winter Olympic trials.
Where do I pick up my silver medals?
Under the Olympic radar: A look at some of the lesser-known sports at the Winter Olympics
Crazy about curling
Inception of sport: 1541, Scotland
Became an Olympic sport: 1998
Where it's played: On curling "sheets," by World Curling Federation standards, which are an area of ice 146 to 150 feet (45 to 46 meters) in length by 14.5 to 16.5 feet (4.4 to 5.0 meters) in width.
Competition: Four-person teams
Events: Men's and women's teams
U.S. Olympic history: Men's best finish was bronze medal in 2006.
Doug Folkins always knows it's an Olympic year when his phone starts ringing.
"You can tell it's Winter Olympics time," said Folkins, 64, of Derry. "People start asking questions, start inquiring a little bit. It's OK. Anything that draws interest to our sport, I'm all for it. It is a great sport, a very exciting sport to play. And more people should know about it."
Folkins isn't talking about doing a "triple" on a snowboard or a death-defying double backward flip while free-style skiing. Those sports have huge numbers of participants and interest, thanks in large part to ESPN's X Games.
He's talking about curling, a sport that's only been part of the Winter Games since 1998.
It's a sport Folkins and his wife started playing 25 winters ago at Nashua Country Club, one of four curling centers within an hour's drive of Boston. The others are Broomstones in Wayland, Cape Cod Curling Club in Falmouth, and Petersham Curling Club in Petersham.
"We joined the club to play golf, which we still enjoy," Folkins said. "But our passion is curling. We really love curling. We travel everywhere to play — in America and Canada. You could say we're addicted."
Folkins is one of a growing number of local residents who participate in some of the lesser known Winter Olympic sports that the average person knows nothing about. And whether it's curling, luge, or short-track speedskating, they'll travel hundreds of miles at all hours just for a chance to compete.
Folkins is a native of Moncton, New Brunswick, a hotbed for curling. In fact, its roots in this part of the world are based in Canada.
So it's in his blood, right?
"Couldn't be further from the truth," Folkins said. "I knew about it while growing up, but I was a hockey guy. I played hockey until I was 21, when I broke my ankle in a commercial league in Moncton. I then coached a little bit. It wasn't until I moved the family to Derry for my business, and a few years after that, that I even considered curling."
Like most beginning "curlers," Folkins heard about the sport from the golf membership at Nashua Country Club. The club has a facility behind the main clubhouse with three, full-length curling "sheets."
While the sport may be an Olympic neophyte, it reeks of history. The first written reference to the sport was in 1541 in Scotland, nearly 80 years before the Pilgrims ran into Plymouth Rock.
In terms of learning the sport here, Folkins couldn't have picked a better place. The Nashua club started informal curling competitions in 1928 on a frozen pond near the clubhouse.
"If you play golf, it's like putting," Folkins said. "It's more about balance, control and touch."
Unlike putting, though, there is a strategy, which is where curlers like Folkins come in. He usually takes on a lead role as a "skip," which is sort of team captain when it comes to where and how to "throw" the 42-pound stone.
"You have to call the shots. You have to know the game," Folkins said.
One subtle strategy is having the thrower turn the stone clockwise or counter-clockwise. That controls the curve.
The "sweepers" then help control the speed and direction of the stone. Sweeping causes friction on the ice, which straightens the stone's movement. It also speeds up the stone.
Each curling team, be it an Olympic unit or a Wednesday night social league, has four players. Two of them "sweep" and the other two are throwers.
"It's a lot like chess," Folkins said. "You're always trying to figure out what your opponents are thinking. It can be mentally draining at times."
Folkins and his wife, Joyce, compete at least twice and sometimes three times a week in the various leagues for men, women and mixed teams. The Wednesday night league at the club is probably the best competition for both men and women.
"The women's team here has won their league (against other clubs) 18 out of the last 20 years," Folkins said. "I tell Joyce it's about time you let somebody else win."
Like golf, curling has long been noted as a game for ladies and gentlemen.
"I especially enjoy the competitiveness of the sport and the fact you can take it to any level that you want," Folkins said. "But what really makes it special is the people in this sport are very friendly. This is a very social sport. Most of us will go together for dinner at the club afterward and have a few drinks. Isn't that what sports and friendly competition is all about?"
The Folkins, whose two children are now grown, have even taken their passion for curling on the road.
"We used to travel to about 14 competitions per year. Now we go to about six or seven bonspiels (curling tournaments)," said Folkins. "We go to Canada, in Ontario and New Brunswick provinces. We go to Maine and New York. There are bonspiels everywhere."
A need for speed
Inception of sport: 1967
Became an Olympic sport: 1992
Where it's played: International-sized ice rinks
Competition: Four or six competitors skate on an oval track which is 111.12 meters.
Events: Men and women each skate 500 meter, 1,000 meter, 1,500 meter and 3,000 meter. Men also have the 5,000 meter relay, with the women's relay being 3,000 meters.
U.S. medal contenders: Apolo Ohno has won a gold medal in each of last two Olympics, and Allison Baver is expected to push for gold medals on the women's side.
Seventeen-year-old Brendan Nagle of Reading, a student at Boston College High in Dorchester, travels to Walpole two to three days a week chasing his passion, short-track speedskating, which like curling became an official Winter Olympics sport in 1998.
"The feel of leaning into the corner, picking up speed, and just feeling the glide," Nagle said, "is one of my favorite sensations."
Nagle had every reason to retire from short-track speedskating. Perhaps the best reason was that he was too busy.
A high school senior headed to the prestigious Thayer School at Dartmouth College in the fall to study engineering, his life and schedule have been jam-packed with activities. If it wasn't Tae Kwon Do, it was the crew team he helped start at B.C. High, or the loads of homework that go with being an Advanced Placement student.
Over his high school career he has been on the cross country team, the ski team, the track team, and even junior varsity football.
"I took about three years off from speedskating because I was too busy," Nagle said. "But I realized I missed it too much."
Like most of today's short-track speedskaters, Nagle first became enamored of the sport while watching it on television.
He was 10 years old when American Apolo Ohno basically put the sport on the map in the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City, Utah, winning a gold medal in the 1,500 meter and a silver in the 1,000 meter events.
"After watching Apolo and all of the hype, I said I wanted to try speedskating," said Nagle. "My parents always encouraged me to try new and different sports. So after the Olympics, my mom found Bay State (Speedskating) on-line."
Bay State Speedskating Club is a story in and of itself. The club started in the 1930s, beginning outdoors. It had run practices and events out of the old Boston Garden, which can't happen today because short-track races are now designed for Olympic ice surfaces like the one at Iorio Arena in Walpole.
In fact, the arena owner has been a part-time participant at short-track practices over the years.
"The thrill of the sport is why I came back, but the workout is incredible," said Nagle, who drives 40-plus minutes to Walpole two or three days a week for practice. "I've played a lot of sports, and the high you get from this sport is special."
South Korea is considered the international super-power in the short-track racing, having won 17 gold medals and 29 medals overall since the sport's inception in 1998. Canada is next with five and 20, followed by the U.S. with four and 13.
Next week's start of the Winter Olympics marks the first time the Bay State Speedskating Club isn't represented in any short-track events.
But Tufts University freshmen twins Ben and David Gartner of Framingham, and Barrington (R.I.) High senior Jerabelle Yutangco are among the top ranked short-track speedskaters in the country for their age groups.
"We are a sport that is having a growth spurt," said Bay State coach Joanne Hallisey, whose daughter Caroline was on the U.S. short-track speedskating team in the 2002 Winter Olympics. "There is a lot of talent out there. And once we get them on the long blades, they always come back."
There are five short-track events for men and women in the Olympics, including 500 meter, 1,000 meter, 1,500 meter and 3,000 meter for both men and women. The men have a 5,000 meter relay while the women's relay is 3,000 meters.
The keys to success, according to Bay State coach Nate Bolton, are staying low as often as possible and making it through the turns as tightly as possible.
Of course, there is one more thing — love of a sport few people understand.
"My friends always ask me why I do such weird sports," Nagle said. "To me, nothing is really ever that abnormal. My mom has always pushed me to off-the-beaten-path sports, so I usually participated in them. My mom forced me to do crew, but in the end I really liked it. She has helped me to keep an open mind towards different things in life.
"As for speedskating, I love the people here. They are great people and we have strong bonds of friendship."
It's all downhill from here
Inception of sport: 1883, Switzerland
Became an Olympic sport: 1964
Where it's played: Iced track
Competition: A luge is a small one- or two-person sled on which one sleds supine (face up) and feet-first. Steering is done by flexing the sled's runners with the calf of each leg or exerting opposite shoulder pressure to the seat. The quicker the time, the better.
Events: Men, women and doubles.
U.S. Olympic hopefuls: Doubles team of Mark Grimmette and Brian Martin.
U.S. Olympic history: Never won a gold medal.
Jim Murphy of Brookline, N.H., is president of Adirondack Luge Club, which has about 50 members. He drives from Brookline to Lake Placid, N.Y., which is home to the only winter luge course in the eastern United States, about twice a month.
"When you really love something, a few hundred miles aren't going to stop you," Murphy said.
Murphy has a ritual on the two Saturdays per month that he makes the 4 1/2-hour trip to Lake Placid, N.Y., in the winter.
"I leave Brookline as soon as done I'm done at the dump, which is usually about 10 a.m. on Saturday," said Murphy, a software project engineer at Dell in Nashua, N.H. "I am usually back home by noon on Sunday."
That's more than 24 hours away from home — all for just four of five runs down the famed luge track at the Lake Placid facility.
Sound a bit over the top? You only know the half of it.
Murphy is president of the Adirondack Luge Club. But it's not the kind of club that has meetings once a week or even once a month.
Heck, the club secretary lives an hour away in Epsom, N.H. Members are stretched all over New England and New York state.
Murphy was introduced to the little-known sport like most others. He saw it on television during a Winter Olympics when he was a boy.
"I remember building curves and jumps when we'd go sledding," he said. "I guess this was a logical extension for me."
Murphy's fascination with the sport really took root in his 20s when he filled out an application and paid $30 or $40 to become a card-carrying member of the U.S. Luge Association despite having never attempted the sport.
"I kept the membership going, thinking someday I would follow through," he said.
Nearing 40 years old, he recalled looking for information and finding the Adirondack Luge Club. He sent a few e-mails and decided to give luge a try.
He will never forget that first day — Feb. 1, 2003.
"I was about to leave the house for Lake Placid when the Columbia (Space Shuttle) disaster occurred," Murphy said. "I knew one of the astronauts on board, Dave Brown. I met him in Houston. Our paths had crossed a few times. He had e-mailed me before about how his dream of going into space was coming true... I really had a tough time and wondered if I should go."
But he went anyway.
It was an experience that changed his life. Or at least added to it.
"Halfway down my first run, I remembered banging into the walls, saying 'Oh my gosh, what have I gotten into?'" Murphy said. "But the second time I was a little more in control. Basically, I was hooked."
For seven years, Murphy has taken his fascination to levels and countries he never would've imagined, including Austria.
He has not only grown in the club, which he now presides over, but he is also a prominent figure in the youth program.
"That part is very rewarding," said Murphy, who works with boys and girls beginning at age 10.
The luge track at Lake Placid has five different start areas, based on level of expertise. Speeds at the lowest starting point can get to 33 miles per hour. At the next starting point up, where Murphy usually checks in, speeds get to 45 and 50 mph.
Anything above those, and you're talking 60 to 70 mph — Olympic speeds.
"There are injuries, bumps and bruises, particularly at club level," Murphy said. "We have enough rope to get in trouble. It's when you get up to where the national team starts, where mistakes are more serious, that concussions and broken bones aren't out of the question."
Regulars to Lake Placid pay for their love affair. While the yearly fee is very affordable, at $100 per season, the sleds can cost between $1,500 and $2,000. But, Murphy said, those top tier sleds should last your entire career.
The key to luging is control, Murphy said, which centers on being relaxed.
"It's counter-intuitive to how you would think, especially going as fast as you do," he said. "You don't see much. You are doing it by feel. It is very important to be as fluid as possible so that you can absorb the bumps. Let's just say it's easier said than done."
There is another key that precedes the aforementioned tranquility while going between 55 and 70 miles per hour.
"You must have a powerful start," Murphy said. "You are sitting on the sled, using your core and back, with good flexibility. You see the racers rocking back and forth a few times. It's not just strength. You need explosive strength."
You also need what Murphy has... a love of the luge.
"I tell people I'm pretty much like a drug dealer," he said. "If I can get you to try luge for a weekend, it's over. You're hooked."
