I stood at the edge of the Lake Of Mentieth in Perthshire, watching as a man methodically cut through the ice to measure its thickness. “Six inches,” he called out—six inches of the finest black ice. This was the news that 2,000 curling enthusiasts across Scotland had been anxiously awaiting. The Grand Match was on!
For those unfamiliar with curling history, the Grand Match is our sport’s most prestigious and rare event. This massive “bonspiel” (curling tournament) pits North Scotland against South Scotland, with the River Forth serving as the dividing line. What makes it so special is its scarcity—this would be only the eleventh Grand Match of the century. The previous one occurred in 1959, and before that, we had waited twenty-three years.
A Gathering Like No Other
The morning of the match, I witnessed a remarkable sight. From every corner of Scotland they came—farmers who hadn’t played in years roaring at their wives, “Where have you put my curling stones, woman?” Regular club players arrived organized and ready. Many had driven through the night from the Far North or left their homes long before first light.
The scale was staggering:
- 220 rings marked out on the ice
- 440 teams of four players each
- 1,760 players total
- 3,520 granite stones weighing about 40 pounds each
This massive gathering requires perfect conditions. Six inches of good ice is the safe minimum to support the moving weight of 130 tons. We don’t get freezes like this often in Scotland, which is precisely what makes the Grand Match so special when it does happen.
More Than Just a Game
What struck me most was the atmosphere. Before play began, a message from Her Majesty the Queen was read, thanking the 2,000 curlers for their loyal greetings. This connection to tradition runs deep in our sport.
I spoke with several players throughout the day, asking what made this event special. One veteran of two Grand Matches gestured to the surroundings—the serene hills, the church spire in the distance. When I asked whether he preferred playing indoors or outdoors, his answer was telling: “Indoor for skill… outdoor for companionship and the grand finale of the curling world.”
And yes, the whisky. When I asked if there was more drinking at an open-air bonspiel, the answer came with a laugh: “Yes, you gotta keep warm, you know.” Another player insisted that what makes a good curler is “a man who can drink plenty and play well and has a grand job”—though he clarified that playing does come first!
A Changing Tradition
The Grand Match reflects how curling has evolved while maintaining its core traditions. Women, once relegated to spectator status in this man’s game, now actively participate. Every year sees more women’s teams among the 500 British clubs (90% of them in Scotland) affiliated with the Royal Caledonian Curling Club, the governing body of curling worldwide.
When I asked one older player how he felt about women “invading” Grand Matches, he called it “a grand thing” with a practical benefit: “It keeps the whisky drinking under control. You’ve always got somebody to drive you home.”
This is what makes curling special—it balances serious athletic competition with social connection and good humor. You simply cannot find conditions like this in any other sport.
A Living History
As the day ended, I couldn’t help but reflect on my boyhood memories of a five-week freeze when I witnessed similar scenes—horses and carts on the ice, hot roast chestnuts, toffee apples, and rivers of whisky. Middle-aged fathers behaved like youngsters, ministers neglected their pastoral duties, and citizens nursed broken ribs and limped for weeks afterward.
The Grand Match connects us to our past while the sport continues to grow more popular every year. It reminds us that curling isn’t just about sliding stones across ice—it’s about community, tradition, and the rare magic that happens when thousands gather on a frozen Scottish loch.
Next time the ice reaches six inches on the Lake of Mentieth, I’ll be there again—though hopefully, I’ll be lucky enough to get a game myself!
