I n three days, Jennifer Jones will slide down the ice blowing kisses and crying and waving to a cheering crowd of 6,371 people. She’ll sit cross-legged on the tournament logo on Sheet A and smile, tears still glistening in her eyes, as she looks up at her husband Brent Laing. She’ll hug her two crying daughters, and seven-year-old Skyla will be glued to Jones’s leg while she speaks to reporters. She’ll be inches from a complete fairy tale, with a silver Scotties Tournament of Hearts medal hanging around her neck.
But that’s all still three days away. Right now, the most famous female skipper on the planet is sitting in the bowels of WinSport Arena in Calgary, thinking ahead to the conclusion of what she says will be her last Scotties, and her final season of women’s curling. Jones announced her retirement publicly on Feb. 13, after countless discussions with Laing, often over glasses of wine, and after second-guessing herself over and over, which is what she’s doing yet again right now.
“I don’t know,” Jones says, wrinkling her nose as she considers whether she’s sure she’s done competing on stages like this. “I think so…”
Then the six-time Scotties champion lays out the ongoing debate: “I’m here this week and I’m having so much fun, and I just love playing with my team. They’re awesome. And my daughters, my little one keeps asking if I can change my mind. They love it. But they also want me home more. So no, I think I’m sure. But you know, you’re in this environment and my girls are saying those things and we’re having so much fun and it’s making me think…”
Jones isn’t the only one feeling conflicted. Darn near everyone else in the curling world is having similar thoughts as they come to grips with the long-time face of the women’s game hanging it up (she thinks) while she’s still one of the best on earth — No. 4 worldwide, No. 2 in Canada. Jones plans to still compete in mixed doubles with Laing, but if she keeps her word and walks away from the women’s game after the Princess Auto Players’ Championship, the season-ending Grand Slam of Curling event that opens this week in Toronto, she’ll leave behind an absolute one-of-a-kind legacy. It’s an impact on the sport and those who love it that teammates, opponents and admirers are doing their best to put into words — just in case this is the end.
But is it?
“I never wanted to fizzle out,” Jones says, nearly as teary-eyed as she’ll be in those last moments on Scotties ice. “I think I’m sure.”
J ill Officer was 15 years old when Jennifer Judith Jones walked up to her at Winnipeg’s Highlander Curling Club on Ellice Ave. and asked if they could have a chat over by the Coke machine, where it was a little quieter. Jones was 16, and a Manitoba junior provincial champion. Officer was a skip hoping to lead her team to a first-ever provincials. When they reached the pop machine, Jones popped the question, the phrasing of which went something like: “Do you want to play together?”
“In some way, I was a bit starstruck,” Officer says, remembering that first conversation with the skip she’d go on to share her many career highs with. “She had already played at a junior national championship, and that wasn’t even in the picture for me yet, you know?”
The 48-year-old has been reflecting on their accomplishments lately, and she and Jones laughed, cried and shared memories over the phone on February 20, the 10-year anniversary of their 2014 Olympic gold medal win. It was an undefeated run to gold, the highlight of their shared accomplishments, which include six Scotties titles (no woman has ever won more) and two world championships. “Our career was far beyond, I think, what either of us ever imagined,” Officer says.
What stood out to the second about Jones even in their junior days, which were highlighted by a 1994 Canadian championship win, was how the skip went for her shots and called games. “That aggressive style is what she tended to, and we were all on board,” Officer says. “Later on, we probably showed, especially in the women’s game, that women could play and compete aggressively.” The game evolved in that direction, too, with the introduction of the free guard zone and five-rock rule, and Team Jones was there at the perfect time to push the limits.
The skip led teams to the No. 1 world ranking for nine seasons between 2005-2018, and Officer credits the success and stability to more than Jones’s ability to thrive under pressure and deliver in big moments. “I think that also had to do a lot with Jen and her mindset and the leadership that she provided in the sense of never being satisfied,” Officer says. “Even when we were ranked No. 1 or 2 in the world, she would ask, ‘Well, what are our gaps that we need to continue to address?’ She was always planning, thinking outside the box on things we needed to do better.”
It didn’t matter what resources they had available, Jones would make “wild and crazy plans when it came to what we needed to excel,” Officer says. Having their practice ice prepared to competition standard, for one, which nobody else on the team suggested since it was costly. “She was like, ‘No, we need to put that in the plan and we’ll figure out how to pay for it later,’” Officer says, laughing. “Some of it would happen and some of it was harder to make a reality. But it was, ‘Let there be no restrictions when we’re brainstorming about what’s going to make us better.’
“She had that incredible ability to lead the team down paths that we maybe wouldn’t have thought of. She had that ability to push the limits and have that influence on us to do the same, and to be better.”
Officer laughs again when she thinks of the one moment that stands out in nearly two decades playing alongside Jones. It’s “The Shot,” the one the skipper made to win the 2005 Scotties, the one then considered the best-ever in the women’s game. Down two, on her last rock, Jones nailed a double takeout to stick three to win the first national championship of her career. Officer figures she’s seen the clip “at least 800 times.”
“The Shot” is just one entry in a library of countless clutch moments for which Officer had a front-row seat. She points out she didn’t doubt her skip’s vision in those big games, because Jones so consistently delivered.
“I trusted Jen, and I trusted her knowledge and her strategy and what she believed she, or we, had the ability to do,” Officer says. “I still say she’s the best strategist. She can still out-skip anybody.”
D anielle Inglis gives up a steal in nine, and the Team Ontario skip can only smile and shake hands with Jones and her Manitoba teammates, conceding to a 7-3 defeat in round-robin play. Jones’s win draws an appreciative roar from the crowd here at the 2024 Scotties, and it punches Jones’s ticket to the playoffs. After the handshakes on the ice, Inglis and Jones share a long embrace while cowbells clang and Manitoba flags wave in the stands.
A 2021 Scotties silver medallist, Inglis is 13 years younger than Jones. That’s about how many years it’s been since she first laid eyes on Jones in person, at a Canada Cup. “Oh my gosh,” Inglis says, gasping and covering her mouth, replaying the moment that left her awe-struck.
As a teenager, Inglis had kept her blonde hair cut to a similar length as Jones’s. She’d bought the same hairclip that Jones wore, and clipped her hair half-up, just like Jones did. The memory makes the 36-year-old laugh. “I just have so much respect for what she’s done in the game,” Inglis says. “And what it’s taken to get there.”
Manitoba skip Kate Cameron also grew up idolizing Jones, playing out of the same St. Vital Curling Club, where she was coached by Jones’s dad, Larry. The day Jones announced she was retiring, Cameron sent Jones a text thanking her for her everything she’s done for the game.
“She really set the bar for women’s curling in the world,” Cameron says. “I think she set the standard for the ability of women’s play, and forming a team of powerhouses that did it all.”
Jones hearted Cameron’s note, then texted a response thanking the younger skip for the kind words. She ended the message: “So sad to say goodbye. It’s my love.”
C olleen Jones is standing at ice level at WinSport Arena, laying out the campaign she’s waging at this year’s national championship. The only other skip who owns six Scotties titles is trying to convince Jennifer Jones not to retire on the basis that she’ll leave too big a gap in the game, that she’s too good to hang it up yet.
There’s no relation between the legendary Joneses, but the Nova Scotia-born Colleen is often mentioned alongside Jennifer when debate surfaces about the Greatest of All Time on the women’s side. “I’ll settle the debate: Jennifer is the undisputed GOAT,” Colleen says, pointing to the Olympic dominance in 2014. “She the GOAT for a reason. And you know, the GOAT hasn’t lost it. She shouldn’t retire. And I just think she’s really good for the sport. Everybody knows her. She’s an It Girl. She’s the face of curling and she keeps making shots…”
As she’s making her case, Jones and her team — third Karlee Burgess, second Emily Zacharias and lead Lauren Lenentine — walk by, having just beaten Cameron 10-5 in a Manitoba round-robin showdown.
“There she is,” Colleen says. “Don’t retire, Jen!”
Jones smiles and shakes her head.
“She should not retire!” Burgess agrees, with a smile that takes up her whole face. “The way she played today — the way she’s playing this week. Did you see the shot she made just now?”
Burgess has grown comfortable around Jones, but back in 2022, just after Jones reached out to Burgess to see if she and her young teammates were interested in joining forces, the now 25-year-old admits the intimidation level was high.
“At first it was like, ‘Oh, I gotta make this shot for Jennifer!’ And just throwing at her broom. You always had to throw a perfect shot because she’s the best, so I had to pretend that I’m good – I had to tell myself that,” Burgess explains, laughing. “But she was so comforting.”
Burgess says she now feels like she’s been playing with Jones for years beyond the two seasons they’ve actually spent together. The 2026 Olympic Games are fewer than two years away, and Burgess would like Jones to still be at the helm of this team, leading them to Olympic trials to try to earn a shot at the biggest stage.
“I understand where she’s coming from with her family, she wants to be there. But it is hard for us, because she’s making all these beautiful shots and we’re just like, ‘Oh, do you want to keep playing with us?’” Burgess says. “Because she’s just still so, so good.”
If you ask the third, there’s still room for Jones to change her mind. Maybe. “She’s very indecisive, so I wouldn’t be surprised,” she says. “No, I think with the kids, she’s made up her mind.
“But you never know — she can still be the Tom Brady of curling, right?”
F our-time world champion Glenn Howard got the phone call from Jones back in September of 2022, about six months after she’d joined forces with a foursome of youngsters, including skip Mackenzie Zacharias (no longer with the team after stepping away from curling last spring). Howard says there was only one answer when Jones asked if he would be their coach.
“You can’t say no,” Howard says, grinning. “If Jen says she wants you to coach? That’s it. You’re coaching.”
Howard played for a decade with Laing as his second, and has known Jones “basically my whole life.” The 61-year-old says she’d been hinting she might retire from the women’s game this season, and she told Howard a couple of days before she let the rest of the team know.
“She’d ask, ‘Am I doing the right thing?’ She’s probably asked that to 100 people by now,” Howard says. “I think talking through it with people made it a little bit easier for her.”
Both Jones and Howard have had fans asking when they’re going to retire in recent years, and Howard wanted to make sure that didn’t play a part in her decision. “I did have a long conversation with Jen — I said, ‘My opinion is, don’t let people tell you when you should retire. It’s none of their damn business,’” Howard says. “I’ve had many people tell me, ‘You’re old.’ But I still love to curl. Leave me alone. We did talk about that.”
As long as he’s known her, Howard says the first time he ever saw Jones cry was at this Scotties. “It’s the whole emotion around the retirement,” he says. “She’s had some good friends and teammates and people reach out and the hugs and the chats. I think it’s hit her, the impact she’s had on people and on the game. She’s not a crier. But she’s been crying this week.”
Jones has always given fans her time, Howard observes, but he says she stepped it up in Calgary. “She’s one of the most generous persons you’ll ever meet,” he says. “She’s not letting one fan get away without an autograph or a picture, and it’s not easy — there’s a lot on her plate, but she will stay to end. That’s a pretty nice trait.”
It’s one of the reasons Howard believes the women’s game will take a big hit when Jones retires.
“I think she put modern day women’s curling on the map. She’s the epitome of a competitor, and she goes out of her way for people. She’s the perfect persona for curling, she really is,” Howard says. “If she retires and the Scotties come around and she’s not here, there’s a huge void.”
J ones has changed out of her sweaty yellow Manitoba jersey, she’s done curling for the day. Her blonde hair is pinned up out of her face, and she’s sitting in a chair she found at ice level, away from the crowd.
Often this week in Calgary, Jones’s eyes have gone glossy while talking about fans, her 18 appearances at the Scotties or even the “smell of the ice.” It’s no different now as the 49-year-old reflects on how curling brought her out of her shell and gave her confidence. Jones swears she wasn’t comfortable becoming the face of the game at first. “So, I became the person I had to be,” she says. “All of a sudden, the shy person I am naturally and innately evolved into somebody who’s a lot more outgoing. I think curling and I evolved together.”
Laing frequently tells Jones she doesn’t give herself enough credit for fuelling that evolution, for playing a big part. She agrees to try now. “We kept trying to push the limits, and I think that’s why I had such longevity, because it was fun for me, trying to see where women’s curling could go and how much we could just, kind of, push and raise the bar. It’s hard to look at how far the game has come and say, ‘Oh, you know, we did that,’” Jones says. “But then you look back and women’s curling has really grown. And if we could have had some kind of impact on that, that means a lot to me. We worked hard. We practiced all the time, and we tried to have really high expectations of ourselves. And I think it created other teams having higher expectations of themselves.”
Three days later out on the ice, Jones narrowly rubs an Ontario rock to miss a difficult draw to the button, and loses 5-4 to the No. 1 team skipped by Rachel Homan in the Scotties final. The tears start as Jones says goodbye and thank you to her fans.
“I still feel as good as I’ve ever felt on the ice,” she says, but it’s the feelings off the ice that had her thinking about retirement. At an event earlier this season in Japan while both her daughters were home sick, she felt like she wasn’t in the right place. “That was kind of the first time ever in my curling career that I felt like, I just need to get home, take care of my family,” Jones says.
Her oldest, Isabella, recently won an award for a short story she wrote, and Jones wishes she’d been there to see the 11-year-old receive it. The story is called ‘Why Not Me?’ and it’s about how people can accomplish anything they set their minds to, something Jones imparted to her daughter in a years-long show-and-tell. “All the things in the story are things we talk about at home, and it’s really, really cool to read,” Jones says, smiling. “I don’t want to miss out on my family. I also want to be fair to my team. They deserve the very best and to have somebody that can put in the amount of time that they need.”
Jones announced her retirement before the Scotties in part to give Burgess, Zacharias and Lenentine a chance to find a replacement for next season. “And I think for me personally, I really wanted to say goodbye,” she says. “I wanted to be able to tell my family so we could come here and celebrate all the joy that we’ve had at this event.”
Her 18th and (perhaps) final Scotties was emotional, tear-filled. Her (possible) final women’s event, the Princess Auto Players’ Championship that opens April 9 in Toronto, surely will be, too.
Jones has already received countless messages of gratitude and admiration, and among those that have floored her most are the ones from fellow female Canadian Olympians. “They’ve said congratulations on my career, and thank you for helping women’s sport in Canada,” she says. “And that’s like, crazy, right? I never set out to do anything like that. I just loved what I did and I wanted to curl and promote our game. And here we are.”
Jones shakes her head and wipes a tear from her face.
“It took me a long time to come to the decision,” she says, “but life is so short.”
