Controversy has erupted at the 2026 Milan Cortina Winter Olympic Games, where the world of curling—normally associated with sportsmanship and decorum—has been thrust into the spotlight amid allegations of cheating, heated exchanges, and a whirlwind of new rules. At the heart of the storm is Canadian curler Marc Kennedy, who was accused by Sweden’s Oskar Eriksson of “double-touching” the stone after its release during a high-stakes men’s match on February 13.
The drama unfolded in front of a global audience as the Swedish team claimed Kennedy violated curling’s strict delivery rules by touching the granite stone after it crossed the hog line. According to the regulations, players must release the stone before crossing that line, and any subsequent contact is considered a foul. The Swedish squad argued Kennedy’s finger remained on the stone, potentially altering its trajectory or speed—a claim Kennedy vehemently denied.
"You don't touch 20kg of granite with your fingertips without feeling it, it's completely impossible," Swedish curler Niklas Edin told reporters after the match, as quoted by NPR. "We, in the sport, know how very few grams of pressure can change the speed when it already has a movement forward. You can move some degree of the angle [too]." The implication: even the lightest touch could impact the outcome in a sport where millimeters matter.
The situation quickly escalated on the ice, with Kennedy responding to Eriksson’s accusations in a manner that stunned fans and commentators alike. During the heated back-and-forth, Kennedy told Eriksson to "f--- off," a moment captured on live broadcast and soon shared widely across social media. Afterward, Kennedy stood his ground. "I've curled my whole life, never once with the intention of getting an advantage through cheating," he said. "So when [my integrity] gets attacked, I get my back up and get a little bit aggressive." Although he admitted, "I probably could have handled it better. But we're human out there and there's a lot of emotions. I'm not going to apologise for defending my teammates and standing up for myself."
Despite the uproar and video evidence that appeared to show the alleged infraction, curling officials declined to penalize Kennedy. The reason? They hadn’t witnessed the violation in real time. World Curling, the sport’s governing body, does not employ video replay to review questionable plays. Instead, Kennedy received a verbal warning—not for cheating, but for his use of profanity during the incident.
The aftermath of the match was felt far beyond the rink. Canada’s 8-6 victory over Sweden secured their second-place standing ahead of the semi-finals, scheduled for February 19. Yet, the win was overshadowed by the controversy, leaving Canadian fans and the broader curling community unsettled. In a country known for its “niceness,” the cheating row struck a nerve. "It's a sad day for Canadian sport," said Tim Gray, a fan from Alberta, in an interview with the BBC. "Integrity in the sport is important, even if you have to call it on yourself." Others echoed similar sentiments, questioning whether the team had acted in the true spirit of curling.
The debate didn’t end there. The very next day, Canadian women’s skip Rachel Homan found herself at the center of a similar storm. Accused of double-touching during a match against Switzerland, Homan’s stone was removed from play—a call she described as "insane." Canada narrowly lost that match, 8-7. The pattern continued when, on February 15, Great Britain’s Bobby Lammie was also penalized for the same violation.
In response to the mounting scrutiny, World Curling hastily introduced a new policy: any player caught touching the granite stone during forward motion would have their stone removed from play, and officials would be assigned to closely observe deliveries. However, the policy was short-lived. After a string of controversial calls—including Homan’s and Lammie’s stones being disqualified—officials reversed course, stating that umpires would only observe stone releases upon request from a competing team.
This rapid-fire rule-making did little to quell debate. Curling experts and commentators weighed in, questioning both the intent and effect of so-called double-touching. Eugene Hritzuk, a veteran Canadian curler and coach, dismissed the notion that incidental contact could provide an advantage. "What can fingers brushing against a 40-pound piece of granite do in any event? You need the palm on your hand against that stone to do anything," Hritzuk explained in an interview with CBC. In fact, he argued, such contact could actually be a disadvantage, disrupting the stone’s line and speed.
John Cullen, a Canadian curling commentator, echoed this view: "The idea that a top curler would let a rock go and then want to try to adjust it with their finger—it doesn't seem like there's any way you could get an advantage from that. It feels like it would be worse." He added that most top curlers occasionally double-touch and don’t consider it a foul, but agreed that rules are needed to prevent extreme cases of intentional interference.
Nevertheless, the controversy has sparked a larger conversation about the spirit and culture of curling. Both Kennedy and Eriksson lamented the impact the incident had on the sport’s reputation. "Curling should be a gentlemen's sport," Eriksson told reporters. "But perhaps it's come to a stage of professionalism where we drift away from that as some people think it's too important to win." Kennedy, for his part, expressed his frustration with what he saw as a shift away from sportsmanship: "The whole spirit of curling is dead," he declared. He also criticized attempts to catch athletes in the act of infractions, suggesting that the focus on winning at all costs was eroding the game’s core values.
Fans and media outlets across Canada have been divided. Some, like columnist Cathal Kelly of The Globe and Mail, argued that Canadian curlers should prioritize national reputation over competitive edge: "Stop acting like our curling reputation matters more than our national one. Be the bigger man and woman, even if you don't think you did anything wrong." Others, like Ankara Leonard of the Royal Montreal Curling Club, saw a silver lining in the controversy, suggesting that the publicity could generate new interest in the sport—even if she doubted the alleged infractions had any real effect.
The controversy has also prompted reflection on Canada’s historical dominance in curling and the scrutiny that comes with it. As Tomi Rantamaki, a curling columnist and Olympian, wrote, "Young players in Finland, Korea, Italy, Sweden—everywhere—often copy what Canadian teams do. They copy the athlete's delivery, the sweeping, the tactics, the communication. And they copy the behaviour." The implication is clear: with great success comes great responsibility.
As the Milan Cortina Olympics continue, the curling world finds itself grappling with questions of fairness, intent, and the very essence of sportsmanship. With the semi-finals looming and the controversy still fresh, all eyes remain on the ice—and on the athletes who must balance their pursuit of gold with the enduring values of their sport.