Q: How do you get bacon to stop curling in a frying pan?

A: You take away its broom!

Did you get it? Until last Friday, I wouldn't have either. You see, last Friday I practiced with Marquette's club curling team at the Wauwatosa Curling Club in, you guessed it, Wauwatosa.

Prior to that two-hour experience, I was what those in curling circles might call a "hater." I thought curling, much like the opening joke, was overtly lame. It's shuffleboard on ice, a sport in the same way mopping is a sport.

Sure, I watched curling during the Winter Olympics, but that was mostly to formulate "women with brooms" jokes (for those of you not in the know, a broom is the, well, broom-looking tool curlers use to scrub the ice).

I've made my fair share of curling knee-slappers, but a colleague (and a curling fanatic) pointed out that I'd never actually played the game. So I decided to put my well-being where my mouth was and try it.

And you know what? It didn't suck.

Once you get past the ridiculous terminology (what in the hell is a "hog line"?) and the fact that curlers, by their very nature, are a bit "off," the game is actually njoyable. Here's a rundown of my brief experience:

I went into the practice with admittedly high expectations. I don't consider myself the epitome of athletic excellence, but I don't consider curling the epitome of athletic challenges either.

For the record, curling is played by two teams of four, with each person throwing the "rock" (or what I call a "teapot") twice. Points are assigned to whichever team gets the most rocks near the center of the "house" (bullseye). The game is played for 10 ends (innings).

"What if I'm some sort of curling savant?" I asked my colleague. "What if I show you all up?"

"You won't," she said.

Fair enough.

Still confident, I started by changing into my official basketball/running/curling shoes. That's when a man, who I assume was the manager of the building, informed us that due to an equipment malfunction, the ice was "very slippery."

I wish that was the strangest thing I'd heard that day. At one point, a member of my team verbally assaulted another member, screaming, "You don't hog on the take out!" I do not know what that means, but I swear I will never do it. Let's assume this is curling's Golden Rule.

As for the game itself: I won't lie, I was pretty good. Astonishingly good, even.

Despite possessing all the coordination on ice of a dizzy newborn, I did not fall a single time (take that, building manager!). I managed to get a rock to stay in the house on at least one occasion and knocked the other team's rock out of the house on another.

One of my teammates said she would rate me a "four" on a scale of 10, but I know she only said that to make herself feel better.

I came to realize that these curlers were, for lack of a better term, athletes. Like any other athletes, they share a common goal (the National College Tournament, held during Spring Break). And after a hard day of sweeping in front of the rock, your arms do get just a little tired.

So, do I consider curling a sport? Yes, I do. If you don't believe me, try it yourself. Just remember — the ice will be slippery, and for your own health, please don't hog on a take out.