Legacy built on love of the rink

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This article was published 28/01/2018 (2799 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

PENTICTON, B.C. — In the beginning, long before TSN cameras and maple leaf jackets, there was a leaky-roofed curling club in Douglas, a hamlet nestled below the Trans-Canada Highway 25 kilometres east of Brandon.

That’s where Raunora Westcott’s journey to the Scotties began, long before the Team Canada lead was born.

Or rather, that’s where her father, Ron Westcott, grew up and where he met the game. As a boy, Ron’s parents, Reg and Mime, let him throw rocks that squeaked just a few feet from the hack; he would later teach his kids the same.

The Westcotts were avid curlers. Mime and Reg married in 1936, and she took a shine to her husband’s favourite sport; in those days, there wasn’t much else to do on winter nights in Douglas, so everyone converged on the club.

As the couple’s five kids grew up, they too absorbed the game. Mime used to watch Reg and their kids debate strategy over the dinner table, using crokinole checkers or salt and pepper shakers to figure out shots and angles.

Back then, she could never have imagined her granddaughter would be competing on TV for a Canadian title.

It’s eight decades later, now. The heart of curling is the same, though it has grown much bigger. The stakes are higher, the lights are brighter, and the Westcott curling name has since ascended from a tiny club to vast arenas.

Yet this much hasn’t changed: at 107 years old, Mime Westcott is still watching.

The Westcott matriarch flew out to the Scotties last week, days after her birthday, joining a lively Team Canada clan in a rented lakeside condo. She’s been a fixture in the stands in Penticton, cheering every game her family is playing.

“I can’t believe she’s here, at 107,” says Ron, who coaches Team Canada. “She’ll love every minute of this.”

And she is: “Oh, yes,” she exclaims, when asked if she’s having fun.

It’s not too stressful either, she adds: when not at the rink, she’s in a chair, watching other curling draws on TV, and Ron’s siblings are helping take care of her.

For Ron, Raunora and second Leslie Wilson-Westcott, Mime’s granddaughter-in-law, the elder Westcott’s presence here is a constant inspiration. During the games, Raunora often looks up at the crowd to find her proud grandma.

“She is pretty incredible and I’m lucky to have her,” Raunora says, after a Sunday morning win over Team Quebec.

“It gives me motivation to play my best, knowing she is cheering me on.

“Plus,” she adds, “I know I might get a little advice here and there, as she was a great player back in the day, too.”

It’s incredible, really. Mime is likely the oldest person in the arena, and hard of hearing, yet she hasn’t lost an ounce of her spirit. Consider that just a few weeks ago, Ron asked his mother what she would like to do in the future.

The answer came back quickly: “more travelling.”

After all, travel and curling have long defined Mime’s life. In the 1970s and ’80s, she and her siblings dubbed themselves the Pond Hoppers, jetting around the world to watch 12 Silver Broom world championships.

When Ron won the Canadian Masters in 2015, Mime flew to Whitehorse to cheer him on.

That one was a long time coming; Ron, who was inducted into the Manitoba Curling Hall of Fame in 2016, competed in 42 provincial championships, but it’s a family joke that Mime had to wait until 104 to see her son win a national title.

At that point, Mime was just 14 years past her own retirement; she kept curling until she was 90 years old.

No doubt, staying active partly explains longevity. So do her genes: Mime was a middle child of 11 siblings, all long-lived. Two elder sisters died recently; her youngest brother is 95, and sings in a Winnipeg barbershop quartet.

So notable is that fact, that seven years ago Mime was recruited for a Boston University study on longevity.

“They keep track of me,” she says, and laughs.

“I have a phone call every once in awhile to see if I’m still living.”

Well, she’s still here, and still cheering, still holding the love of a game she helped pass through generations. From mother to son, and then from son to daughter; a thread to bind them for a lifetime, and always bring them together.

melissa.martin@freepress.mb.ca