Stupid Football

We haven't had a great month. Sometimes it seems as though the Host looks for the gaps in our knowledge. Sometimes we can't get out of our own way. It seems as though every week we maneuver our way into first or second during the opening rounds, only to fall on our faces when the bonus round comes around. What I'm trying to say is that I can relate to Charlie Brown and that goddamn football.

It's the holiday season and it seems like Charlie Brown is on TV all the time. Why is a character who is, by definition, such a loser a beloved figure in our imagination? After all, we live in a world where results are valued above processes, where Christopher Columbus has a holiday and Andrew Jackson is on money. It is strange, when there is more information easily available than any other time, that losers fade more and more quickly from our collective thoughts.

So why is it that we love so dearly a cartoon boy who fails so often at baseball, at kite flying, at love, and, of course, at kicking that stupid football. Why do we love a character who is defined by his suffering. His creator, Charles M. Schulz posits, "Charlie Brown must be the one who suffers, because he's a caricature of the average person... Winning is great, but it isn't funny." This is what I too have long suspected; that we love Charlie Brown because we identify with him. There is a part of us that remembers our own failures and Charlie Brown is that part incarnate. No one ever laughed at a man walking down the stairs and not falling down.

Even though we all love him, losing was getting old. Even Charlie Brown had occasional triumphs. It was starting to feel like we'd never get to kick the football. This week felt different though. We answered all the questions except for one in the first round correctly, naming the character in an action trilogy whose name was revealed to be David Webb (Jason Bourne), and knowing the first names of the two female characters in "A Streetcar Named Desire" (Stella and Blanch).

And the second round went just as smoothly. We knew which team Babe Ruth was a member of when he hit his first home run (The Red Sox). We knew the name of the town where the Wright brothers first flew (Kitty Hawk). We knew the highest two digit prime number (97). We couldn't guess the brand of cigarette that advertised on the original Flintstones cartoons (Winston).

Still, when the Host asked the final question, we were tied in first. We were feeling pretty good. If we could get the final question and bet the max, we could win for the first time in what seemed like forever. This was the question: "Match the following four countries with their populations, Countries: Vietnam, Italy, Chile, Algeria Populations (in millions): 17.46 38.48, 60.92, 88.78." We debated the answer pretty furiously among ourselves. It was certainly the kind of question that lent itself to multiple answers, but at last we came to an answer that I was happy with: Vietnam 88.78m, Italy 60.92m, Algeria 38.48m, Chile 17.46m. Now the only question was what to bet.

There was a lot of disagreement on the team about the correct answer. So I knew that if we bet the maximum and got the answer wrong, about half the team would be unhappy. I also knew that if we bet zero we could still win and would likely get some prize. It had been a long time since we won overall, and several times betting aggressively on the final question had cost us. I decided, therefore to support betting zero even though I was quite happy with our answer. It was the political choice but not necessarily the politic one.

As it turned out we had the answer correct, which was disappointing. Even more disappointing, two teams jumped ahead of us. We finished in a tie for third. In cases of a tie the Host asks a tie-breaking question with the closest team winning the prize. The question was, "Over their first 16 years of their franchise, how many regular season games have the Tampa Bay Rays won?" We estimated that they won 68 games per year giving us an answer of 1088 wins. The real answer was 1195. We got pretty close. Unfortunately our opponents were either Tampa Bay Rays experts or great guessers. They said 1150, meaning we missed a total of two questions, got the final question correct and still missed the stupid goddamn football.

The Brothers

They came from Texas. Not so abruptly as some--their accents muted by years living in the city--but there was something about them that betrayed it all the same. I had been trying to get them to join our team for weeks, and finally there they were, drinking matching bottles of beer. I was late again, and they looked over in unison as I hoofed it through the propped open door.

They were a fine pair. Their beers, half finished and perspiring, were about the only things that matched about them. Despite the fact that they shared parents, physically they were as dissimilar as any two brothers I've known.

The first, thin as a steel pipe, greeted me with a half-nod. His hair, which fell down to his shoulders if left unchecked, was pulled into a tight pony tail. His were the eyes of a dreamer, always looking over your head, almost medicated, but he heard every word. That much was clear to anyone who knew him well enough. Whether his comportment was practiced or an accident of his nature, it was not a haze he walked through; it was a wall where he could hide.

His brother ran one hand over his newly shaved head. He was the older of the two but stood shorter than his brother by a couple inches. If you closed your eyes when he spoke, he sounded exactly like Paulie Shore. All the focus that his brother lacked, or appeared to lack, he possessed, apparent for anyone to see. When he spoke, he did so deliberately, waste not want not.

In truth, the team was mostly new this week. Our new teammates seemed promising enough. And we were as numerous as we'd been in weeks. Word had circulated about trivia night and everyone was ready for the game to begin.

We began quickly, easily answering questions about Milli Vanilli and Beanie Babies. We struggled with the third question of round one, but came up with the answer to, "What brand name means 'Lions Brew' in German" (Löwen Bräu). Our first and only mistake of the first half came when we couldn't figure out what the J stands for in JRR Tolkien (John).

At halftime we led. I could tell the new members of the team were enjoying our success, but I also knew too well that things could change quickly. They did, and quickly too. We couldn't answer the question, "What current baseball team started as the original Baltimore Orioles in 1901" (The Yankees) or a multiple choice question about The Pink Panther. If anyone ever asks you, Attack of the Pink Panther was not a real Pink Panther movie.

The Brothers held their own. When the group is big, it's easy to fade into the crowd, to not let your voice be heard, but The Brothers came through. They knew the active ingredient in Tylenol (Acetaminophen) and who won the last back to back college basketball national championships (Florida). And they were enjoying themselves too. Our newest converts celebrated each correct answer as though it were their first.

Before the final question, we were in second place with 56 points. First had 60, third 55 and two teams had 49. The questions was, "Put the following sit-coms in order from most to fewest episodes: Will and Grace, Cheers, Friends, Seinfeld." More interesting, perhaps, than our answer (Cheers, Friends, Seinfeld, Will and Grace) or the correct answer (Cheers, Friends, Will and Grace, Seinfeld) were the betting strategies of us and the other teams.

Everyone got the question wrong. We were quite uncertain about our answer and bet four points, enough to catch the 1st place team if they bet zero, pass them if they bet anything and got the question wrong provided we got it right, or pass them if they bet the maximum and got the question wrong. The team in first bet one point, assuming each team would bet enough to pass them if they bet zero. The team in third, however, bet 2 points, covering us if we bet zero and they got the question right, also giving them a chance to beat us if we bet something and both of us got it wrong.

I'm not sure what to think about everyone's betting strategy. I think everyone could have bet something different and justified it well, but I also find sense in what they did bet. In the end it was as tough a decision as any question we faced, a fitting trial for untested troops.

Halftime Question:
Google Glass is an example of technology abbreviated by the initials OHMD. What do they stand for?

Spiff Returns!

Everyone was running late and Spiff was waiting for us again. Interest in the team had dwindled in recent weeks. From our peak of seven members a few weeks ago, illness, travel, and family had culled five members. Only myself and the Brain walked through the door the way people do when they're a few minutes late, out of breath and looking around the room. When our eyes found the table where the Host was supposed to be, we only found the pyramid that reserved the table for him. Spiff looked on from his familiar spot.

 The Host came in an unironed dress shirt. He was obviously flustered and the various comments from employees and regulars at the bar couldn't have helped. As he set up his equipment at the table, he rolled up one sleeve of his shirt. When I asked what had kept him, he told me he was speaking at a local college. I could only imagine who he was speaking to or about what, but I knew I'd try to find out in the coming weeks.

 Where our team flagged, Spiff's grew by the week. Once our local trivia loner, recently Spiff had added a second member. Their team, "Two Wild and Crazy Guys" had become a force, taking  home second place three weeks in a row. This week, something happened that I would have thought impossible weeks ago. Spiff's team added a third member. And she was a girl beside.

 One of the most important decisions you make when starting a night of trivia is what to name your team. Spiff in his various incarnations uses the same name in each case. When he is alone, he is always "Spiff" when they are two, they use the ironic "Two Wild and Crazy Guys". We only use the same name the week after we win. This time we tried "Bring Your Champions They're Our Meet". We have changed every week for a while.

 The three went by the new name "Three Wild and Crazy Guys" and, despite the unoriginal and the male pronoun, they were obviously formidable. At halftime they led the field with 32 points. We had 30. They had only missed 3 points total, and the questions had been pretty tough. They knew who Sara Lee was (the founder's daughter), they knew how many stars Puerto Rico's flag has (one), how many heisman trophies the Manning family has won (zero), and could complete the phrase "Remember the ____" from the Spanish American war (Maine). We may have been in second, but I didn't feel good about our position at all.

 I said in my first post on this blog that you are only as good as the team around you. Even though the Brain is our strongest player, there are certainly gaps she cannot fill. When the Host asked what Andrei Kirilenko's jersey number is (47), we had no idea his nickname was AK-47. When he asked what Arabian horses were missing a pair of (Ribs), we thought of the correct answer before answering teeth.

 Still, we felt pretty strong about our performance. We knew how tall the standard Barbie doll was (11.5 inches) and from what state 4 of the first 5 presidents hailed (VA). We knew where John Lennon airport was (Liverpool, England) and on what station Wide World of Sports aired (ABC). When the dust settled, we were tied in second with 60 points. Spiff was alone in the lead with 64.

 When we heard the final question, we knew we had to bet the maximum despite not knowing the answer. The question was: "In the 1980's, which cough syrup coined the phrase 'I'm not a doctor but I play one on TV'". We knew the answer had to be one of the main syrups; Robitussin and Vick's were the only two we could think of. So we guessed Robitussin and bet the max, and if that was the answer we would have won. Unfortunately the answer was Vic's, so we finished close to last.

 As we left through the front door, I spoke to Spiff for the first time I can remember. As I walked past him, I tried to think of something smart to say. But the moment was blurring past and hurriedly I told him "Nice work" as I walked away. I looked back at him looking back at me, agape.


Halftime Question:

Name these things that start with the letter B:
1. An elephant from children's literature.
2. The last names of James Joyce characters Molly and Leopold.
3. An Ivy League school.
4. A post renaissance musical period.

Woolery and Picasso

In "One Art" Elizabeth Bishop wrote one of my favorite poems. It is among the seminal poems of the 20th century. In it she moves deftly from humor to tenderness to sadness. If you don't know the poem already, you can read it here.

One of my favorite lines in the poem is "So many things filled with the intent/ to be lost that their loss is no disaster." Beside the fact that these lines are lovely, they also contain the seed of a premise around which the rest of the poem revolves: that losing things should not be the reason for our feelings of loss. 

You may well ask why the poetry lesson? Isn't this a blog about a trivia team? Well a strange thing happens to me  while I try to figure out what to write about here: I start to learn about the answers. 

Facts are funny things. Dig deep enough and you'll come out in a place you'd never expect. And even though they seem to lead you to strange connections, what I've come to understand is that those connections say more about you than about the facts you're exploring. 

 The questions were devilish this week and we were without The Brain and another key team member. Not only were the questions difficult, but we also missed a few easy ones, one about Picasso and one about Chuck Woolery. Woolery, it turns out, was the first host of Wheel of Fortune. 

I found it fascinating to learn that all of Woolery's episodes of Wheel are lost. NBC wiped their shows at that time. So perhaps it was understandable that we didn't know that question. Learning that fact, however, I began to think about lost artifacts and lost art. 

Pablo Picasso is one of my favorite painters. Let me explain something about writers: we all wish we were visual artists. Listen to Frank O'Hara's "Why I Am Not a Painter" here to see what I mean. There's something about being able to utilize color and shape instead of words that really appeals to us. 

Picasso is one of the most recognizable artists who has ever lived so it is perhaps not surprising that his work is stolen more often than any other. Many of these pieces resurface later after the thief sells them on the black market. Some are still at large. Rarely, however, a work of art is lost forever. When I find out about one of these, I cannot help but feel sad. A work of genius that will be forgotten to time, NBC wiping the tape. 

The Internet is an amazing thing.  Google "lost Picasso paintings" and you can see them all. One of the most stunning paintings and stories is that of "The Painter" lost aboard swissair flight 111 when it went down over the Atlantic in 1998. 

The tragedy of that flight (almost 300 people died) is only magnified by the fact that a priceless work of art was destroyed in the crash. Perhaps it goes without saying that I value the lives more than the painting, but I'll say it just to make sure. An object is only worth something in relation to our own humanity. Elizabeth Bishop would agree. 

A slow week at trivia: the most interesting decision we made was our wager for the final question. We sat in third with 54 points. Only 4 other teams made it to the end. They had 61, 60, 47 and 34 points respectively. The question was: which year was Simon and Garfunkel's Concert in the Park. We knew it was in the early 80s but not much else. 

In the end we decided that the top two teams were going to have to bet the maximum. So we bet 6 points, figuring that we could protect against the team below us betting zero and still catch one or both of the top two teams if they got the question wrong. 

In the end, it didn't matter. We got the question wrong (the answer was 1981), but so did everyone below us. The top two teams did bet the maximum but got the question correct. Another week, another order of nachos. 

Halftime Question: 

Who played the male lead opposite of Sandra Bullock in the following movies: 

1. Speed

2. All About Steve

3. Speed 2

4. Forces of Nature

Bismuth

The Brain snapped the fingers of her left hand across the hardtop table and took a bite of her messy sundae. She was either pissed off or concentrating intensely on that particular bite. Given the circumstances of the night, it was safe to say the former was most likely by far. And if she was angry, I couldn't blame her one bit. 

Listen, on this team we're all competitive people. There's a reason why one of our favorite social outlets is matching wits with perfect strangers. We all like to show off, and we all love to win. And the Brain may hate losing more than any of us. 

The category, "Medicine" seemed intimidating, but  question was straightforward enough: "What chemical element is the active ingredient in Pepto Bismol?" I thought I knew the answer and when another of my teammates said "Magnesium!" I thought we had it. It was rare for two of us to come to the same incorrect answer independently. When another teammate agreed, the answer seemed clear. 

"It's bismuth." the Brain seemed so sure. 

We all turned toward her, agape. For a moment no one said a word. We looked at each other through eyes slit in concentration. "Are you sure?" I asked, "I've never heard of that. Is it even an element." 

"Why do you think it's called Pepto-Bismol?" she asked, brushing her bangs away from her eyes. There was an absolute certainty in her voice. And a hint of disdain. 

"Okay" I hesitated, "Can you tell me where it is on the periodic table?" I was hoping to settle the dispute quickly. 

"I dunno... Somewhere on the right?" This was a tough situation. The Brain was our best player, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes.  Or there seemed to be. 

Let me explain my role on the team. I am not, by any stretch, the most intelligent nor do I specialize in any particular subject. Indeed the area I should be best at, literature, is one of the teams worst. No, my most important job is to resolve disputes. 

Inevitably in the course of any trivia contest, the team will put forth more than one reasonable answer. Deciding on one can be a delicate process. Obviously our number one objective is to find the best answer. Consensus is the best solution of course, but sometimes it's impossible to achieve amongst 4-7 team members in one minute. 

This was one of those times. Three of us were pretty sure the answer was magnesium. Moreover we were all pretty sure this thing called bismuth was not an element.  Still our best player thought the answer was bismuth. 

After thinking as long as we could think, we answered magnesium. I certainly had my reservations, but I thought it was the one that had the best chance to be correct. I knew without any doubt there would be consequences if the answer was bismuth. 

Sometimes The Host gives the answer right away. He needs to keep the game moving at a decent pace. Once in a while, however, he does his best impression of Regis from "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire". This was one of those times. 

It seems silly to say, but I could hardly breathe as he took a long pause then read the answer. Bismuth. In an earlier post I said one of the greatest joys in trivia is being right as the odd one out. The Brain, I could tell, did not find any joy in her victory. 

Despite our setback, we kept fighting. We knew the answer to "What does the symbol AR stand for on the periodic table" (Argon) and "Which cartoon dog was born and raised at the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm" (Snoopy). And even though we didn't know who Mork's boss was on Mork and Mindy (Orson) or which NFL coach with two Super Bowl wins won the fewest regular season games (Jimmy Johnson), we were in third heading into the final question. 

Sometimes you know a question without having to think at all, and sometimes you can figure it out through deductive reasoning. This question fit neither definition: "Arrange these hit songs by when they came out from first to last: 

1. The Wallflowers, 6th Ave. Heartache 

2. Sting, Fortress around Your Heart

3. Paula Abdul, Cold Hearted

4. Genesis, Hold on My Heart"

I've lost our answer sheet so I cannot tell you what our answer was. I can tell you that we were not close to correct. The right answer was Sting, Paula Abdul, Genesis, Wallflowers. We started gathering out stuff and paying our check, another frustrating week down the drain. 

As The Host read the answers, I was only half listening. There were seven teams at the bar and The Host hadn't read our name, "Obama Care Bear Stare yet. This was a rare week. Every team got the question wrong and we had all bet the max. 

As things turned out we finished third. The same place in which we started the final round. Sometimes in trivia, you can play as badly as possible and things turn out okay. For third place we received a ten dollar gift card, and so we slunk into the night, ashamed but not empty handed. 

Halftime Question: 

"During the Cold War what did STAR between the US and the Soviet Union stand for."

1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

Our Lizard Brain

The Brain told me hours before there was no way she could make it. Yet at 8:45 she rounded the corner, telling a joke to a friend. Surprised, we shouted a greeting into the glow that surrounded the bar after dark. 

If our relief was almost palpable, there was a reason. The Brain was our trivia all-star. Her specialty was science, but with a seemingly eidetic memory very few questions were out of her realm. 

This week, question after question would have stumped the rest of the team, but the Brain had the answer to them all. She knew the organ TB effects (the lungs). She knew which card game ranks the cards ATKQJ (pinochle). And despite a small hiccup in the hockey category--Gordie Howe not Bobby Orr won three straight MVPs in the 50s --she knew that Gary Larson is the author of The Far Side. 

When I asked her once how she remembered one fact after another, she told me they came from her lizard brain. 

The term is an interesting one. As far as I know, the human brain shares little in common with the lizard's. But when we want to refer to the deepest parts of our subconscious, the places where our memories are lodged most stubbornly,  that is the term we choose. 

When I write there are moments when I get to access my own lizard brain. Others may call it their muse or their inspiration, but whatever they name it the idea is the same: we find something in the depths of our mind that even we didn't know was there. 

Perhaps it's appropriate that we consider this part of ourselves somehow distinct from the rest of our consciousness. The nature of the lizard brain dictates this and, in turn, contributes to its inherent mystery. When you pull up something you didn't know you knew, it feels an awful lot like it comes from an undiscovered place. 

For most of us, these moments of clarity and discovery happen only once in a great while. The Brain, however, seemed to live most of her life in that country. There was rarely a question that she flat couldn't answer. Even if she wasn't always correct, always she seemed to come up with a reasonable answer. 

If anything, the team relied on her too much. Although brilliant, she certainly was failable. She convinced us that "Off the Wall" not "Bad" or "Thriller" had the most #1 hits. And neither her guess (an eagle) nor mine (the flag) was the correct answer to "What image was on the first forever stamp" (liberty bell). 

Still she is the best player in our little bar and her answers had us in the game for the final question: "The following three actors won the academy awards in the same year for best actor, best supporting actress, and best supporting actor, respectively: Al Pacino, Marisa  Tomei, Gene Hackman. Which movie won best picture that year? Hint: one of the actors mentioned was in the movie" 

A complicated one, but once we figured out what the question was asking, we tried to figure it out. We knew at once that Tomei won for "My Cousin Vinny", which we knew didn't win best picture and which we thought was made in 1992. Now the question was what movie won the 1992 academy award for best picture. 

Unfortunately, movies are one of the weakest categories for our team. We couldn't come up with a whisper of answer. Our lizard brains would not work. 

In the end we had to hazard a guess. We narrowed it down to "A Few Good Men" (none of those actors were in it) and "Scarface" (made a decade before). We didn't even consider the correct answer (Unforgiven). And so we scratched our heads and wondered at the silence we found there. 

Halftime Question:

Match each item to its color. There is one extra color: purple, red, blue, green, orange. 

1. Arnold Schwarzenegger 80s film titles. 

2. Fred's Ascot in Scooby Doo

3. The Gs in Google

4. The horseshoes in lucky charmsg

The Host

He had the face of everyone you've ever known who never wanted to work a cubical but ended up working a cubical anyway. I imagine him searching each morning for a clean shirt and tie, picking through his closet, past the second hand guitar he played at coffee houses in a small college town, past the boxes of notebooks filled with song lyrics and the first lines of great short stories, past a leather jacket, vintage tee shirts, a box of keepsakes from an old girlfriend. 

He brushed the vestiges of what once must have been a long careless hairstyle from his eyes and handed me an answer sheet and a pen. I said hello and he responded in kind. He thinks of me, if indeed he thinks of me at all, as a part of the furniture, nearly indiscriminate from the other beer toting psedo-hipster yuppies who frequent this bar. 

I was the first of our group to arrive. The night was cold enough for the bar to put up their heat lamps. I pulled two tables together close to one, ordered an 8th street ale and waited for reinforcements. 

A fourth of the way through my rather large beer, my teammates began to come in ones and twos. They ordered diet cokes or waters and squinted over menus they'd squinted over dozens of times before. We had a large team that night. Seven of us got comfortable and exchanged small talk as we waited for the game to begin. 

This may have been our strongest team in recent memory. And after winning two weeks in a row, I was feeling confident. 

My confidence proved to be well founded. We flew through the first half missing only two points. At halftime we held a comfortable lead. The Host was cracking jokes. Any time he asked a baseball question he quoted "Something about Mary." He pretended the question he was about to ask was impossibly obscure, "Put the following 37 French Painters in order..." They were the lines he uses every week. We laughed along, so happy we didn't even have to fake it. 

In the background ESPN was broadcasting the final table of the World Series of Poker. There were two players left. One, a tall floppy haired 23 year old in a hoody and blue jeans, had almost all the chips. He sat tall, confident enough to make the cards bend to his will, or seem to. His opponent, pudgy with amazing arm tattoos, hurled his cards. They tumbled over the side of the table. It was a study in contrasts and the difference confidence can make. 

Our own swagger continued into the second round. We answered the first three questions of the second half correctly. With only six questions remaining, we were almost home. And then it hit us. 

"The Wall" is a phenomenon that exists in endurance athletics. I've hit it on a few occasions myself. One moment you're running along an empty highway, enjoying the morning air and thinking about what you're going to eat when you get home, the next you can't breathe, every fiber in your legs is on fire, you struggle to put one foot in front of another. Every athlete fears the wall, and we had just run into it headlong. 

Our "Wall" was a series of questions we could not answer. Some we thought we knew, "what is the governmental name for a group of owls" (a parliament). Some we could only hazard a guess at, "What still living diminutive actor was born Joseph Yule, Jr. in 1922 (Mickey Rooney) or "Which nursery rhyme character asks 'what a good boy am I?'"(Jack Horner). When the dust had settled, we sat in 5th place, 13 points behind the leaders. 

Hope remained, however, and we still had the final question to consider. It was, "Put the following 4 people in order from tallest to shortest: Prince, Danny Devito, Peter Dinklage, and Michael J Fox". We thought a while, knowing that we had to bet the maximum. Finally we answered Fox, Prince, Devitto, Dinklage. We felt good about our answer, but would the teams ahead of us miss it? 

As it happened, our answer was correct. We weren't surprised. The question hinged on knowing who Peter Dinklage is (he plays Tyrion Lanister on game of thrones) and guessing that Prince is shorter than Fox. It was an easy answer to come across. And so we were disappointed but not surprised when we passed only one team in the final standings. 

The Host smiled at me as we filed past him. I wish I could ascribe some meaning to that look. Perhaps that he felt our pain, that he too knew what it was to suffer at the hands of "The Wall", that he was rooting for us and we'd do better next week. But in my heart I knew he was being congenial. There was no deeper meaning. 

As I left, I glanced back through the glass double doors. On the big tv over the back wall, the floppy haired kid celebrated his inevitable victory. His opponent stood next to him, watching, almost shrinking from the picture. As I drove off, I watched the bar lights melt into my rear view. 

Halftime Question: 

For each of these 4 quarterbacks name the NFC team they won the Super Bowl with:

1. Jeff Hostetler 

2. Bart Star

3. Doug Williams

4. Brad Johnson