Turkey Shoot Showdown

It's called a Turkey Shoot.Each player gets 4 rocks to throw.Points are increasingly allotted for each of the rings in the house.After the 1st round, out of the 6 fellow contestants, I was in 2nd with only 2 points.The leader had a devastating 5 points. For my next throw, I came out of the hack very unsteady, and my release was wild - comments of unorthodox style were heard from the crowd. But for me, I knew it felt right. Slowly the rock crept down the ice. It passed the hog line, and started to curl.Oh, and was it looking good.The crowd grew quiet.This was going to be special. It passed by the outermost circle.Passed by the next.And then it slowed almost to a stop.No one was taking a breath.The air was filled with electricity.It crept into the third ring ... slowing even more.Would it have enough?That was the question on everyone's mind in this moment that seemed to last a lifetime.And yes. it would.With but an eighth of a rotation more, the rock stopped on the button.Everyone was stunned.A tear came to the eye of the old guy who sits in the corner drinking his Tim Hortons double-double and takes care of the ice. This was a spectacular moment - a lead curler, landing, nay, placing a rock on the button.Four points to my previous 2, put me in the lead ... for now. I went back and picked up my next rock.My blood pounding in my ears.The hairs on my arms standing on end.Sweat glistening on my brow. This time around, I released the rock and the nervous jitters had been replaced by smooth, strong confidence.Alas, this was to be my downfall. I had the power, but it was not tempered..The rock sailed down the sheet; it's speed was too much.It sailed through the house like a pat of butter on a hot pan.Six points was all I was going to get.The chances were slim, but the night was magic, for it was the night of the Turkey Shoot. I looked over to the side and the old guy who sits in the corner drinking his Tim Hortons double-double and takes care of the ice, gave me a wink!
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