I really got into the Winter Olympics this year. Part of it was because of Vancouver, a city I used to visit regularly, whether sitting in the Pacific Coliseum watching the Canucks or prowling Robson Street with a head full of Kokanee. (That's a beer by the way).

I also got way into the Games because there was snow on the ground and I was sitting in 30 degree heat, trying to keep cool with that most ludicrous of Australian technologies, the "evaporative cooler."

But the biggest reason I got fired up about the Olympics, and the one that makes the least sense, is that I fell in love with curling.

That's right, curling.

Other than ice hockey - a sport I grew up with and played as a kid - nothing held my interest more than the men and women pushing the "stones" into the "house." By the end of the Olympic fortnight, I was watching the curling gold medal matches with an intensity usually reserved for Arsenal v Spurs.

Personally, I wasn't as smitten with Canadian women's captain - or "skip" - Cheryl Bernard, like others in the online community (hello Bill Simmons and Jason Whitlock), although I did dig Eve Muirhead, the Scottish girl whose blonde hair with black stripes reminded me of Bill Forsythe's film Gregory's Girl, circa 1981.

But I wasn't into curling because of the babes.

No, there was something intriguing about this sport. For one thing, it isn't judged. I loved the performances of Torah Bright and Kim Yu-Na, but both won their golds based on points awarded by judges.

Curling also features direct head-to-head competition, mano-a-mano or whatever-a-woman-is-in-Spanish-a-whatever. Maybe they aren't bashing each others brains out, but it's teams competing against one another at the same time, not against a clock.

And finally, there's the act of curling itself. Let's be honest, it isn't exactly the most physical form of competition in the world. One person pushes the stone across the ice delicately, while two others use brooms to help speed up and give the stone direction. What other elite Olympic sport requires the use of a household cleaning item? Imagine a track-and-field event where you need a blender.

The women's gold medal match sealed the deal for me. Canada was in prime position to win in front of its rabid fans. The aforementioned Ms. Bernard had a golden opportunity to put the match away and she blew it. Pulled a Jana Novotna, a Jean Van de Velde. Sweden stole the gold and left me, the novice viewer, stunned and wanting more.

And that's the problem. Where do I get more? I can watch top level ice hockey on Fox Sports, since they cover the NHL, but I don't think they've got room in their busy schedule for curling. And I doubt ESPN is going to start showing curling instead of college basketball. Sure they program their fair share of tractor pulls and rodeos, but that stuff does play well in Middle America.

And that brings us to One HD. It's a relatively new network with some serious filler - I Fish anyone? - so it's not out of the question that they could find room for This Week In Curling or The Curling Show or whatever the curling highlights show is called.

Tell me you wouldn't watch the best curling from around the world instead of Omnisport or that Lacrosse All Star game that's been shown about 10 times. Hell, what about curling instead of the Bundesliga? Does anyone outside of Germany ever watch the Bundesliga. Most Australians couldn't name a team in the league other than Bayern Munich, Hamburg or Dortmund.

So let's get a movement going. Who's with me? Start Twittering and Texting and Facebooking right now and get curling on television. It worked for Hey Hey It's Saturday didn't it?