Championship curlers know that there is no ice like Shorty’s ice
He is known, quite simply, as Shorty and when you are
as good at something as Shorty Jenkins is, you really only need one
name.
Shorty is the Zen master of ice -- curling ice to be
precise, something he understands and makes better than anyone else on
the planet.
"This is the 159th championship I've done," says
Shorty standing near six sheets of his creation at the Nokia Cup/Scott
Tournament of Hearts provincial championships currently underway in
Mississauga.
The self-described "fun, crazy guy" began making
championship ice in Peterborough back in 1976 and has since been brought
in to make the ice for everything from major cashspiels to world
championships.
Shorty is probably better known, more popular and
more loved than anyone in the sport of curling. Watching him go about
his business in Mississauga tells you that.
One minute he's chatting to volunteers in the
hallway, next minute he's got his arm around Olympic silver medalist
Mike Harris's shoulder sharing a laugh -- while Harris is currently in
the middle of a game. Then he's offering sage advice to an ice maker
from a local curling club there to help and learn.
World-class curlers like Harris, Peter Corner or
Wayne Middaugh would have a hard time being recognized by most people,
but not Shorty.
None of the competitors have ever starred in their
own Tim Hortons commercial like Shorty did a few years back and it's not
likely any of the curlers could get away with the rather distinctive
attire that Shorty does (pink cowboy hat, pink leather jacket and pink
cowboy boots).
And he is as much a character as his outfit would
suggest.
Ask him how old he is and this is what you get: "I'm
65 going on 30. But this week I'm 105 because it's been a bad week," he
answers with a chortle.
But don’t be fooled by the joking and colourful
personality, when it comes to curling ice Shorty is all business.
A meticulous record keeper, he has charts detailing
every sheet of championship ice he has prepared. He also has -- by his
estimation -- 1,400 videotapes sitting at his Trenton home of televised
curling matches.
"That way I can hear what the curlers and
commentators are saying about the ice," he says. "If you saw all the
records I keep at home you'd flip."
Shorty got into ice-making in 1967 at the Trenton
Curling Club, but he got serious about it a few years later.
A pretty good curler himself in his own day, Shorty
was competing in a provincial championship in 1974 and couldn't believe
how poor the ice was so he decided to do something about it.
He started studying the effects humidity, air flow,
scraping patterns, temperature, water types and pebbling density have on
the curling ice. He also figured out which curling rocks curled which
way.
"I've made it almost a science now," he says without
a hint of self-promotion.
Electronic gadgets and measuring devices monitor all
the variables as he aims at making his ice 99 per cent perfect.
Why only 99 per cent perfect?
"There's no such thing as perfect ice," Shorty
admits. "Different curlers like different ice and you can't please them
all."
He does admit he aims to create ice and use rocks
that have a lot of curl to the as he feels that makes for more
entertaining, exciting curling.
"You've got to keep rocks in play. You've got to give
everyone their money's worth."
Shorty has no problem sharing his knowledge. Raised
in an orphanage in British Columbia, he promised himself that he would
do everything he could to help others as he got older and now he has
that opportunity.
He holds seminars that attract ice makers from all
over the world. At major tournaments he'll have a handful of people
helping him out, watching, doing and learning from the master.
Tournaments he can't fit into his schedule often ask
him to recommend someone else.
"I don't recommend the know-it-alls because you can't
know it all," he says. "At my schools I give everyone a little booklet
titled Shorty's 36 Years of Screw-Ups."
Curling great Peter Savage once gave Shorty some
advice.
"He said 'listen you little buggar, you'd better
write a book before you die,'" Shorty laughs. "I might. I figure I've
got plenty of time."
If and when he does write that book, the smart money
says the cover would be pink.
Shorty Jenkins...
The King of Swing
Born in Hanna, Alberta in 1935, Shorty was raised in Victoria, B.C. He
joined the Royal Canadian Air Force at 17, and after training, he was
posted to the Maritimes for his first years of service. In 1955 he was
transferred to Zweibrucken, West Germany, where he spent nearly five
years in quality control. "I was checking people's work on F-86 Sabre
airplanes and CF-100s all fighter aircraft," Shorty remembers.
In 1959 he was sent to Cold Lake, Alberta, where he worked on the
Officers' Training Unit squadron and the new CF-104 Starfighter
aircraft.
"In the fall of '62 they sent me back to Baden Baden, Germany. I was
part of the advance party for the CF-104s. We were there to help unload
the CF-104s and then we assembled the airplanes on site." Eventually the
work with its high level of stress , put him in the hospital in Ottawa.
"I was put back into the weapons branch, CFB Trenton. Then I lost my
medical classification to handle the weapons trade, so I had a choice:
to remuster to the supply end or get out with a small pension. I chose
to get out."
After a brief stint with Sunoco, managing service stations, Shorty
decided to change jobs. He took two weeks off to vacation before looking
for work again. Those two weeks turned out to be a turning point for
him.
I went to play golf daily in those two weeks at the Trenton Golf Club.
While I was playing they lost their grounds superintendent. I knew I
wanted to work outside, so I approached them to see if I could work for
the club to learn the field. They said yes, but there was only one small
problem they could only pay me one dollar an hour.
Then the fateful event occurred. In the fall of Shorty's first year they
lost their icemaker. Shorty applied, again hoping to learn the job as he
went along. "The president of the curling club said no, I was too hyper.
I still am." The two weeks went by and Shorty tried again. "They gave me
the same answer but it was getting too close to the curling season, so I
said give me a chance, and I you're not happy or I'm not happy, the
deal's off and the club agreed. "The first year the ice turned out to be
fairly acceptable nobody had good ice then," he explains. "Being a
perfectionist, I started to study ice-making deeply."
He began watching curlers, noticing how results varied from night to
night even though he made the ice the same from day to day. After
watching race cars on television, Shorty had a brainwave. He decided to
time the rocks as they traveled down the ice, much as racing cars are
timed in their laps. He bought a stopwatch and began using it at the
rink. No one else had thought to time the rocks, and at first other
curlers laughed at the idea; but within a year stopwatches began to
appear.
The stopwatch is not the only innovation that Shorty has brought to the
sport of curling. As well as trying numerous types of water tap, rain,
filtered, hot, cold, and so on for pebbling the ice. He tested ice,
brine, and even rock temperatures. Over the years he has accumulated
over $20,000 worth of equipment. All for the making of the famous Shorty
curling ice.
Rocks differ widely in the speed at which they travel down the ice.
Shorty claims to be the only icemaker today who knows how to chose and
match rocks for major championships. "Since 1984, when I got caught with
bad rocks, I refuse to do the ice unless I get to choose the rocks. The
past two years alone, I've flown to Winnipeg, Scotland, clubs in Quebec
and Ontario to repair and match rocks."
Shorty has been making ice for nearly three decades so it is not
surprising that he is starting to be selective about the jobs he takes.
Last February was the last time that the Ontario Men's championship
would curl on Shorty's ice. Curlers and curling fans need not despair
however, Shorty means to pass on his know-how and technical expertise,
and has already begun by teaching courses and by lending a free hand to
smaller, poorer clubs. People have questioned the wisdom of allowing
others in on his secrets, but Shorty will have none of it. "I just like
to help others," he says. "That's what I'm here for."