Nothing TRIVIAL IN THIS QUIZ
KERRE IS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED WHEN SHE BREAKS A VOW
When my newspaper editor asked me if I’d MC the inaugural newsroom trivial pursuit evening, I looked at her askance. Don’t get me wrong. I love quiz shows. The Chase is required viewing in our house and indeed, in most of my friends’ homes. I love the Chasers and I marvel at their extraordinary knowledge.
I’ve always enjoyed Trivial Pursuit. We played it almost nightly in our flat when it first came out. Now, we only play it at Christmas and the game is so old, some of the questions have become redundant but it brings back many happy memories.
A Trivial Pursuit quiz evening does not evoke the same sort of joy. I have MC’ed a number of such evenings and they have all ended badly.
Generally, they attract the worst A-type personalities – people who believe they know everything. They chivvy people into joining them to form a team. They arrive early and try to grab a table in prime position so they don’t miss a thing when the questions are being read.
They ride roughshod over other people’s suggestions when questions are posed and insist their answer is correct.
And they are quick to leap to their feet and dispute an answer if they believe the quizmaster has got it wrong.
One of the worst evenings was a fundraising event at my daughter’s school. The senior girls asked me if I’d do it and I agreed, but I told them one of them needed to be the adjudicator so any appeals went to her, not me.
And she would need to have a laptop so she and Google could provide a definitive answer if any of the participants refused to back down. The girls looked at me, astonished. “It’s a school fundraiser,” they said. “They’re our parents. It’ll be fine.” Be that as it may, I responded, I’m only doing it if you agree to those conditions. So they did. And it went exactly as I predicted.
We divided the questions into sections and gave the answers after each round. It only took about two minutes before some high-powered businessman leapt to his feet and disputed the answer to question two.
The young adjudicator insisted that the answer was correct, the father grew more bombastic and ultimately slammed his fist down on the table where the young woman was sitting. There was a collective gasp within the room. He looked shame-faced and slunk back to his table, but not before I’d fined him $100 for his outburst.
That put a lid on such vehement protests, but it certainly didn’t stop passionate appeals throughout the evening.
It was exhausting and I vowed never to do another.
But here I was again so
I told the editor the same conditions would apply.
I would read the questions but she would be the moderator. And I have to say, for a bunch of know-itall journalists from print and radio, they were the best behaved I’ve ever seen at a quiz night.
Oh, there were a few contested answers – not helped by the fact some of the question-setters had the answers wrong – and the fact that there were two sports rounds, which infuriated some of the more bookish ones in the crowd, but the night was a success.
We’re all looking forward to the next one. But it’s a good idea to keep me up on the stage doing the asking, not the answering, because I rather fear there’s a tablethumping, A-type personality not too far beneath my surface.
‘ I fear there’s a table-thumping, A-type personality not too far beneath my surface’