Quizzing. And all that entails.

Perceptive readers of what I laughingly like to call 'my journal' will know that during the Winter months I play in a pub quiz team.

It is a function of our league that it must have an Annual General Meeting in mid Summer, and that was tonight. Now I've been to these before, and I don't particularly enjoy them. So I went an hour late in the vague hope that I could sit around boozing and chewing the cud with a few chaps I meet seldom, but more importantly, after the main business of the night was concluded.

Well, I got it partly right.

The boring committee crap was over, but the home written quizzes were out in force (or should I say in farce?). Imagine, if you will, a table quiz loosely based around the Department of Trade and Industy. I kid you not.

This was followed by a 6 aside, no confering quiz similar in style to our league matches. I found myself on the same side as the League President and founder. A decent cove provided you don't engage hiom in discussion about either quizzes or rugby. For he is that fatal combination: No life and strong views - on these topics at least.

Suffice it to say I scored a whole point. I didn't know a single answer to my own questions and Our Beloved Leader and Founder (All Hail His Name) hogged nearly all the bonuses.

Oh well, he did throw me abone towards the end of the evening, and to great acclaim I managed to get a point (count it) for the team with the answer, Harry Palmer.

I could live with this, since although I knew a number of answers, there was little chance of me getting anything in the face of the answer hog. No. What buggered it all up for me was that I only managed 3 pints (but it was Harvey's Best Bitter), and managed to exchange barely a word with the people I'd gone to see and chat with.

I'm logging this as a memory, so that in 12 months time I do not repeat the mistake.

But then I'll forget to read it....

Quizzing. And all that entails.

Perceptive readers of what I laughingly like to call 'my journal' will know that during the Winter months I play in a pub quiz team.

It is a function of our league that it must have an Annual General Meeting in mid Summer, and that was tonight. Now I've been to these before, and I don't particularly enjoy them. So I went an hour late in the vague hope that I could sit around boozing and chewing the cud with a few chaps I meet seldom, but more importantly, after the main business of the night was concluded.

Well, I got it partly right.

The boring committee crap was over, but the home written quizzes were out in force (or should I say in farce?). Imagine, if you will, a table quiz loosely based around the Department of Trade and Industy. I kid you not.

This was followed by a 6 aside, no confering quiz similar in style to our league matches. I found myself on the same side as the League President and founder. A decent cove provided you don't engage hiom in discussion about either quizzes or rugby. For he is that fatal combination: No life and strong views - on these topics at least.

Suffice it to say I scored a whole point. I didn't know a single answer to my own questions and Our Beloved Leader and Founder (All Hail His Name) hogged nearly all the bonuses.

Oh well, he did throw me abone towards the end of the evening, and to great acclaim I managed to get a point (count it) for the team with the answer, Harry Palmer.

I could live with this, since although I knew a number of answers, there was little chance of me getting anything in the face of the answer hog. No. What buggered it all up for me was that I only managed 3 pints (but it was Harvey's Best Bitter), and managed to exchange barely a word with the people I'd gone to see and chat with.

I'm logging this as a memory, so that in 12 months time I do not repeat the mistake.

But then I'll forget to read it....