Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Another pub quiz

Last night, very unusually, we were invited to the pub quiz next door at The Cricketers. I would have been playing badminton, but the roof of the hall was leaking, so I went along with Mr A and joined what turned out to be a team of eight, all very senior in years, except for one 'youngster' who could have been in her 30's. She turned out to be a great asset in the round that expected us to know things that had happened in the TV and music world in the last 20 years.

It was a strange evening, but I just love everything that goes on in the pub. I love that we can go there and join in whatever's happening, without worrying about it or needing to know anyone before going in. As it happens, I vaguely knew most of the team - R from round the corner, P from up the road, the chap from the big house on the corner whose son in law we may ask to do some carpentry around the house, and his wife, and their daughter (the youngster). We were sitting right at the back of the pub together with another team, and it was quite hard to hear the quizmaster, so the eighth member of our team, who was also the oldest, was standing at the bar so as to hear better. And so he could go outside to smoke.

It was both the most competitive and the most anarchic quiz I've experienced for some time. Our Team Member at the bar was actually sharing answers with another team, which seemed to be even larger than ours and contained most of the pub staff, plus many of the regulars, and the previous owners. One of them continually refers to the fact that I was at Cambridge Uni (he was at Oxford) and it's very wearing. Every time he walked past he made some comment, but most of the time I couldn't work out what he was going on about.

Our team was mostly deaf, the PA system didn't deliver sound to our corner very well, the neighbouring team were young and quite noisy, and in true pub quiz style, we had to share our ideas by whispering. There was a lot of "No, I said BERKSHIRE!" "What question number is this?" "Did he say 'Bad Claus' or 'Fred Claus'?" "Who?" P was absurdly competitive, and at the end was certain that we had won, overlooking the fact that in the music round we'd hardly got any questions right at all.

My favourite question was "What is the biggest prize on 'Deal or No Deal'?" P came up with the suggestion of £250k, and we all looked at each other blankly. It turned out that not a single one of us had ever watched this hugely popular TV programme, and then P admitted he'd only seen it once and wasn't really sure.

For some reason there were some trinkets that had come out of Christmas crackers lying around, so when the stress levels rose too high, Mr A and I amused ourselves with the little plastic toy that you could put round your finger and made it look like you had a nail going right through it. Every now and then one of us would slip it on and make 'ow ow ow' noises to the other, demanding an ambulance. We found it hilarious, the others looked baffled. The ones who could hear us, anyway.

We ended up coming joint fourth, only three points behind the winners. There was chocolate for prizes, so I dutifully put mine aside for later, seeing as I'd had double my quota of beer for the evening and hadn't even been able to play badminton to compensate. I love that pub.

On a wholly different note: Oliver Postgate's death was announced today. What a great man.

Bagpuss and friends

1 comment:

Lola II said...

Come on Charlie Mouse