WITHQUIZ The Withington Pub Quiz League QUIZBIZ 21st March 2007 |
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WQ Archive | Comments | Question papers |
Results & Match Reports |
Albert just failed at home
to second-placed 2 FCEKs
Albert Park went down in the
second of this season's Orkney Dark Trophy evenings against the
Opsimaths
History Men stormed back to form
against the luckless X-Pats Napier Girls overcame the Electric Pigs in their last home game of the league season at Fortress Griffin |
Quiz Paper Verdict |
Snoopy's set this week.
It was, again, a pretty tough paper - the aggregate scores speak
for themselves. According to our resident anorak, 20
questions went unanswered in the History Men/X-Pats match.
However comments received indicate that there was plenty of
interest in the subject matter tackled - at least in patches.
Perhaps too many questions on food, and multiple groans for the
clearly manufactured rubbish about peanut butter in Round 5.
All in all the verdict seemed to be tonight's paper achieved
curate's egg status.
Damian from 2FCEKs
writes in relation to their game against Albert:
The end result
belied the close nature of the contest. From Round 1
right through to Round 7, there was nothing more than a
single point to separate the two teams. Eventually in
the last round, a host of literary questions swung it for
the Fcekers as Father M's O-Level in English Literature came
to good use. Highlight of the evening was a curious,
knitted object stuck on top of a bottle and placed in a
prominent position on the table between the two teams.
This was apparently the work of Evelyn who was promptly
accused by our reverend leader of knitting him a willy-warmer!
Now how on earth, dear Evelyn, you could have known
that the Father's privates are shaped like a small bottle of
tonic water, is one of those mysteries it is perhaps best
not to dwell upon too closely!
The questions
from Snoopy & Friends were the usual curious mixture of
brain-teasers liberally mixed in with brain-seizers!
Thus, hoorah for the dictionary definitions and a chorus of
boos for the spectacularly brain-seizing: 'What is Arach...butyro..something--or-other
phobia?'. We remained firmly convinced that a fear of
getting peanut butter stuck to the roof of one's mouth is
not something your everyday Mancunian, or indeed anybody
outside of deepest, darkest Louisiana, could be expected to
be in any fear of contracting - if indeed any such 'phobia'
exists at all outside of a fevered imagination! |
The Question of the Week |
The Pigs and the Girls vote this week for Round 2 Question 3:
Click here to see the answers to this and the rest of the week's questions and answers. |
Chatterbox |
Down at the Club tonight we were delighted to meet up with two members of our new team, The Men They Couldn't Hang (whose name I got wrong on the website previously). They stayed for about an hour noting the various etiquettes and listening to tales of past Snoopy papers lovingly retold by the two contesting teams. Worryingly their body language seemed to indicate there were a number of questions where they not only understood Jitka perfectly well, but actually knew the answer when neither teams had the faintest idea!! I gather they have chosen The Old House at Home on Burton Road as their home venue. We all look forward to their debut in a fortnight's time at the Stadium of Murk against 2 FCEKs in the first round of the Val Draper Cup. |
Fr
Megson
Pure Fiction |
A Chairde, The final round tonight was called "PURE FICTION" - which only goes to prove that the truth, as portrayed in the previous seven rounds, is indeed stranger than fiction. Does anyone, for example, really believe that Socrates quaffed his final cup of hemlock simply because he could no longer live with his irrational fear that globules of peanut butter might stick to the roof of his mouth? I think not. Small wonder then that Fr M sat for most of the evening holding his onions and swearing in Egyptian. He did however really enjoy the final round though several might carp that it was a bit too specialised for their taste. Fr M would like to take this opportunity to invite the setter of this lit-fest round to his place at the weekend where we can slip into something more comfortable and spend an intimate soirée comparing our contemporary book-ends.........and I pray to God that it was not set by either Tony or Eric. Truth indeed can be stranger than fiction. Could any sane person really have believed that Ireland's rugby team would take second place on the back pages to Ireland's cricket team last weekend? Or that Ireland's cricket team would be in turn be dumped off the front, middle and back pages by an Agatha Christiesque whodunit saga? Do they still have butlers in post-Raj Pakistan? Be that as it may, I look forward to the Pakistanis turning up at Croke Park and becoming the first foreign side to beat Kilkenny in an All-Ireland hurling final. Only then will I once again feel safe supping a pre-curry pint of Guinness and listening to THE FIELDS OF ATHENRY on the juke-box of The Clarence pub in Rusholme. Only a true great like Fr Megson can ever hope to understand fully the heart-stopping night-fright that being a manager can induce. The next few weeks will make or break his reputation. Can 2 FCEKs hold out and become one of the truly great second best teams in the history of the league? Or will they wilt under pressure and be remembered as just another bunch of third-raters? And will they become the first team ever to get bumped out of t'Cup by The Men They Couldn't Hang? Glory may well be fleeting but obscurity lasts forever. Fair play to him though. He's a wily old fox. More callow managers like Ferguson or Mourinho would have the team holed up in the Stadium of Murk endlessly revising their phobia questions. It is surely the mark of a psychological genius to whisk his squad off for a weekend of team bonding and pedalo racing in a disused quarry on the outskirts of idyllic Doveholes in Derbyshire. It was there during a limbering up hagiographic exercise that Fr Megson stumbled upon the intriguing fact that the patron saint of quarrymen is in fact Saint Rock. Must have been a bit of a shoo-in when he applied for that job.
If any of you out there happen to know who has the honour of being the patron saint of sewerage workers, could they drop Fr M a line and he will be in a position to commence setting a perfectly paired quiz for when his team get knocked out of t'Cup by the afore-mentioned THE MEN TCH. THE MEN THEY COULDN'T HANG is an excellent name by the way. But I wouldn't go round shouting it too loudly when you're playing against last night's setters. You don't want to rile Tony by setting him a challenge that he might find impossible to resist..... Go raibh maith agat, as they say in Pakistan. Sleep well. Fr. Megson |