Why Curling Practice Is Just an Excuse for Post-Game Pizza
Every sport has its dirty little secret. For hockey, it’s that everyone’s just there for the beer league cooler. For golf, it’s the mid-round Bloody Mary. And for curling? Let’s be honest—it’s not the drills, the strategy sessions, or even the perfect draw weight. Curling practice is just an elaborate excuse to eat pizza with friends afterward.
Sure, we say we’re going to work on our deliveries, sweeping form, and hammer strategy. But the second someone casually asks, “Where are we ordering from tonight?” you can practically hear the sound of stones clattering across the ice as discipline melts faster than a poorly timed guard.
The Great Illusion of “Practice”
When you arrive at curling practice, you might see some stretching, a few trial slides, and maybe even someone taking split times like they’re training for the Olympics. But this is just foreplay for the main event. The truth is, every shot is secretly a countdown to the moment when someone says:
“Alright, let’s wrap this up. Domino’s or local pub?”
Curlers will nod gravely, like we’ve all just endured a grueling two-hour training session. In reality, the scoreboard reads “Pizza: 1, Practice: 0.”
The Pizza Planning Committee
Forget the team’s strategy book. The real heated debate isn’t whether to peel or freeze—it’s thin crust versus deep dish. Garlic knots or cheesy breadsticks. Does pineapple belong on a curling team’s post-practice pizza order? (Spoiler: it does, but only if you’re willing to guard your slice like it’s the four-foot circle).
Every curling club has an unofficial pizza czar. This is the teammate who collects cash, negotiates toppings, and somehow always gets the delivery guy to show up just as the brooms are put away. Their role is far more critical than the skip’s. Let’s face it, you can win a practice without hitting the broom, but you cannot survive a night without pepperoni.
Pizza = Team Chemistry
Sports psychologists talk endlessly about “team bonding.” Curlers have already cracked the code: cheese and carbs. You don’t need motivational speeches or trust falls when you can split a large supreme and laugh about how someone managed to hog yet another rock.
Those inside jokes, the “remember when the stone picked in practice” stories—they don’t happen during endless slide drills. They happen when you’re three slices in and someone says something like, “Hey, we should start a team diet next week.” Cue laughter and immediate orders for dessert pizza.
Pizza as a Performance Enhancer
Let’s talk about energy. Sweeping might look easy on TV, but every curler knows it can feel like you’re scrubbing the kitchen floor for a marathon. Enter pizza: the ultimate recovery food. Sure, nutritionists may recommend protein shakes and balanced meals, but what could possibly fuel a comeback better than a hot slice?
Think about it—pizza is basically an all-in-one curling food pyramid. Carbs for energy, cheese for calcium, meat for protein, and vegetables if someone insisted on adding peppers. It’s practically a training meal. (Don’t ask about the grease. That’s just extra glide.)
When Pizza Becomes Strategy
Believe it or not, pizza influences team strategy. Some skips use it as leverage:
- “Hit that double and we’re upgrading to stuffed crust.”
- “If you hog another stone, you’re paying for the breadsticks.”
It works. Motivation skyrockets when mozzarella is on the line. No amount of yelling “HURRY HARD” compares to the sheer panic of missing your delivery and risking a downgrade from pepperoni to plain cheese.
Curling Clubs Know the Secret
If you think this is just your team, think again. Curling clubs around the world have long embraced pizza as their unofficial sponsor. Many clubs even have cozy lounges that practically scream: you’re not leaving without ordering food. And if you’ve ever played a bonspiel, you know the “post-draw pizza party” is basically built into the entry fee.
Some might even argue pizza is the glue holding curling culture together. Without it, practices might dwindle. Leagues might falter. The sport itself could risk collapsing under the weight of its own seriousness.
How to Justify the Pizza Habit
For those who feel a little guilty about their curling-to-pizza ratio, don’t worry. You can justify it in endless ways:
- Carb-loading: You never know when your next bonspiel might demand Olympic-level sweeping.
- Recovery: It’s basically physiotherapy, just tastier.
- Recruitment: New curlers might join for the novelty of sliding rocks, but they stay for the pizza.
- Merch tie-in: You can even grab a funny curling shirt that says “Skip Happens” to wear proudly on pizza nights.
Conclusion: In Pizza We Trust
At the end of the day, curling practice is less about perfect technique and more about perfect toppings. The stones, the sweeping, the strategy—they’re all just foreplay to the real game: a post-practice feast that strengthens team bonds and ensures everyone shows up next week.
So yes, you could call it practice. But the rest of us know the truth. Curling is the only sport where the most important shot happens at the pizzeria.
And if anyone asks why you keep showing up? Just smile and say, “Team chemistry.”
👉 Want to bring some curling humor to your next pizza night? Check out our funny curling shirts and rep your team in style. Because nothing says “serious athlete” like a shirt that proudly declares: Curling is fun.