27 June 2025
林芝军分区通信连连长张爱英：美丽的迷彩人生
百度 移动支付改变着自由行游客的旅行方式。Pride: World Curling is proud to share stories that highlight the power of inclusion, identity, and community within our sport. In this heartfelt piece, Eoin McCrossan (Irish Curling) reflects on his personal journey of self-acceptance and the transformative impact of LGBTQ+ spaces in sport.?
“Two Irishmen, an Indian and a Filipino walk into a curling club” feels like the beginning of?a contrived and ultimately unfunny joke. In reality, it was the make-up of my team for San Francisco Bay Area Curling Club’s “The Ball Bonspiel” in 2024 and my first experience of an LGBTQ+ bonspiel.??
Through my work on the World Curling Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Group, I connected with P.N. Raju, who lives in the Bay Area and was looking for a team. I told myself it was too far, too expensive and June wasn’t the time to be curling.
My brother, who also lives in San Francisco, had a huge part in convincing me that I should stop thinking and starting booking! (Thanks, Patrick!) A quick search for flights and an inner justification that I was really using the time to see my brother, and I was off!?
Let’s start from the beginning
I am a gay man. I am incredibly comfortable saying that. I don’t underestimate the importance of that comfort nor take it for granted.
Quite plainly, it wasn’t always the case.
I knew I was gay from about the age of 12. I remember the sheer panic that bubbled inside of me as it dawned what the feelings I was having meant, both now and for the future.
I grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland and went to a Catholic school. This simply could not happen – and so I pushed it down, ignored it and moved on.
Sports and I
If I reflect on my relationship with sport, it is something I have always loved. To me – sport is life distilled. There are the highs and lows, the drive and determination to succeed. Everything is laid bare and so intoxicatingly raw – and yet, I was never involved.
I sat on the sidelines and watched. ‘I like being a spectator,’ I would insist.
Deep down, I knew that I never felt comfortable in any sporting environment. As a deeply closeted teenager the thought of going into changing rooms was absolutely terrifying.
As I progressed through school, I would tell myself that academics were more important because I needed to get into a good university. Yet, I still sat up the night before one of my final school exams glued to the commentary of Andy Murray playing in the Australian Open.
Curling enters the chat
When I got to university, I found curling. In September 2011 I stepped onto the ice for the first time and never looked back. I had found my sport.
As with most of the key events in my life now, they are intimately interlocked with curling. With its events, its calendar, who was on top, who had been relegated to European C-Division or had won the World Mixed that year.
One event will always be ingrained in my memory.
The night my life changed
It was April 2013, and like most of the curling world I was keenly following the progress of the World Mixed Doubles Curling Championships. The Hungarians had unexpectedly stormed into the final where they would face Sweden – surely they wouldn’t cause the ultimate upset?
I was home on a break from university and decided – with only two days left – that I would tell my parents that I was gay. I felt time was running out. Tonight was the time… but not until after the curling.
I sat and watched the unbelievably tense final. Sweden took the edge at half time and were three up. My nerves were fraught. It might be over soon. Was that a good thing? The game ebbed and flowed and all of a sudden, we were at the last shot of the eighth end.
This was it. This was the moment that would change everything. Until it wasn’t.
Sweden gave up a steal and we were going to an extra end.
The tension was unbearable, the conflicted feelings inside me were rising, and then my thoughts turned to the curling.
I stood with baited breath outside my parent’s bedroom and knocked the door, “Mum, Dad, I’ve got something to tell you.”
The tears and hugs that followed were mixed in with Hungarian celebrations. The agony and ecstasy was laid bare. Life was sport and sport was life. Everything had changed and yet nothing had.
I was gay, but I always had been.
Queer curling spaces
Curling is a vital part of my life and one that I simply couldn’t imagine it without. From starting at Edinburgh University to playing internationally in dozens of countries, I would never say that I felt out of place at a curling club.
But there was something missing – something I found in San Francisco.
I must admit, I vastly underestimated the importance of queer space in sport until I was in it. Every member of the LGBTQ+ community has to choose to come out to each and every new person they meet – or not.
In this space, nothing had to be said. That unspoken pressure and feeling of being different, alienated or alone was gone and that meant that the good times flowed!
The curling was good. The company was even better. And the memories will last a lifetime. I found my sport years before, but now I found my people.
I have to thank everyone who made The Ball 2024 possible as well as every person across the world creating these spaces. My story and experience is just one of hundreds. Dedicated space for queer people is essential. For me it was revitalising, uplifting and inspiring. I hope that it can be that for any member of the curling community.
If you can, make space for any group or person who might not traditionally feel at home in your organisation. Allowing them to express themselves and plant authentic roots will flourish into a vibrant tapestry of community.
Two Irishmen, an Indian and a Filipino walked into a curling club. Four friends emerged with a trophy. Oh – did I mention we won?!
Join the World Curling community!
Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, X, TikTok, LinkedIn and Weibo and by searching the hashtag #curling
Sign up for the World Curling Newsletter and receive monthly updates directly to your inbox.
