Before I get in to my column for this week, I'm going to have to touch back on my “Laws of Attracting” as pointed out in last week's column (and, as per requests, I'll stop telling you all what I'm wearing whilst I type; although, right now, I'm in jeans and a sweater typing this at work, so I currently fit in to the 'societal norm')(my socks don't match). Anyway, there were a couple things I learned after writing the column, so here's some new rules to add on to the list (in case you kept it for future personal use): Rule 7: Suffix '-ish' does not work When you get back in to the groove of hanging out with the guys, having a couple drinks and watching the game, you get used to the idea of a “date time” being an “-ish” time. I.e. - “I'll be over around 7-ish” could mean anywhere between 7:15 to 8:30 p.m. (unless you're hunting or farming with your friends, then it could be a.m.). Apparently the female clock works differently. Because when you're heading out on a date and say “7-ish”, that somehow changes from meaning between 7:15 to 8 p.m. to somewhere between 6:45 and 6:59 p.m. The saying goes, “Love is like a battlefield”. Well, if you follow the “7-ish” guidelines set out amongst men and put it to use when heading out on a date with a woman, forget the battlefield, you've just walked yourself right in to the war zone (and unless you're smart enough to come with a bouquet of flowers, you're walking in unarmed). Sidenote: Gum is not a substitute weapon for flowers in this instance (as it apparently insinuates that not only are you late, but you also believe your female counterpart has bad breath). Rule 8: Get a bigger bank account Going out for drinks and/or meals and/or movies is not free (and, unless you can sneak up front without her seeing, using gift cards is frowned upon)(again, trial by fire learning) so you better either ask your boss for a raise, get a second job, or find the fanciest table you can at McDonald's, or else you're going broke. Rule 9: Don't make a list of rules about your dating tricks and then put it in a newspaper...you dumb a** For some reason, when I threw in a couple of rules and tips last week (such as the tip about setting an alarm on your phone and pretending it was a real phone call), I forgot that someone who you may have wanted to end a date with early (which you did so by using that very trick) had the potential to read this column. Oops, I made a mistake. Because, apparently, if you give away tips like that to an audience of thousands, you may get a phone call from one such lady in which, after you answer the phone, the conversation begins, “Are you sure this was a phone call or is it just your alarm ringing” (I will give her points for having a clever remark). But such is life. Anyway, back to the aforementioned column title, “The Champ is Here”. I digressed enough that I don't really have enough time to write much about it, but I guess I'll start this off by saying I can't believe I'm sore after a weekend of curling (didn't ever expect to say that before I was 50). I entered a bonspiel in Cypress River and lead my team (“lead” as in my position on the team, not even in the slightest bit “lead” as in my ability on the ice) and found out that the key to becoming a champion curler was having three great curlers and one bald(ing) guy (at least I knew my role on the team). The most frustrating part of learning how to curl was the darn skip; no matter how hard I swept, he kept yelling “Harder” (I was sweeping hard Adam!). I think I also became the first person to ever curl with indoor soccer shoes on, so at least I broke one record for the team (aside from being the weekend's record-holder for most falls and slips). Anyway, until next week when I challenge Jeff Stoughton and his crew to a game at the Yellowhead Centre, keep a smile on your face and I'll do the same!