They're back: Wayne Middaugh, Kerry Burtnyk, Jennifer Jones, even gum-smacking, frizzy-haired, Springsteen-loving weather girl Colleen Jones.
Thank goodness sanity has prevailed in the insane world of curling politics - yes there is such a thing - and the best armchair sport in the world, save football, will be back where it belongs on TSN this year.
Even better than having the curlers back is having Vic and Ray and Linda back.
Vic Rauter, Ray Turnbull and Linda Moore are the homey broadcast team who settle into our living rooms ever February and March to bring us the Scott Tournament of Hearts and the Brier.
They were knocked off the air last year when the Canadian Curling Association in a predictably daft move gave the contract totally to CBC, which had nowhere to put it except on a digital channel called Country Canada that was licensed to carry only a minimal amount of live sports. Herding cows is not a sport, by the way.
The semi-finals and finals have always been on CBC but we curling junkies were used to seeing draws in the mornings, afternoons and some evenings during the round-robin on TSN.
There were howls of protest over the change.
After much skirmishing, the parties have agreed that the public actually has a point and they're going to go back to the way things were. Isn't that so damn Canadian of us?
While curling was the ostensible reason for the protests, I think Canadians really just missed curling up on the couch with a hot tea and Vic, Ray and Linda. We missed Ray's telestrater dyslexia, Vic's feigned ignorance of basic strategy intended to generate disagreements from his mates and Linda's incredible capacity to anticipate the game.
Yes, I know. Curling is not a sport. It's so boring. Nothing ever happens. Yada. Yada. Yada.
That's what I always thought, too, until I actually watched some of it. My aunt Mary (she of the Fritterfest and Rainbow Festival volunteer teams) was a curler and insisted on watching it. Lo and behold, I found myself becoming intrigued.
It is the ultimate television sport because of the microphones on the curlers and the delicious opportunities to second-guess strategy. It's as if you are hearing Bobby Fisher talk to himself as he thinks about what move he'll make next against Boris Spassky.
The personalities, or lack of them, of the curlers also emerge in a way they don't in any other sport.
We've watched Kevin Martin grow from a spoiled brat who brought out the corn brooms when he was getting thrashed in a world championship to a man who could lose the Olympic championship by a couple of inches and react with grace and good humour.
Curling is back where it belongs. Hurrah! Let the first Karcher commercial begin.