Mike sees hope for the Opsis in next week's 'Wooden Spoon' final

For once the Opsis enjoyed a great evening quizzing AND a victory.  In the traditional Griffin quizzing area we nestled free of the TV football blasting out from most other areas of the pub.  We were uninterrupted for the most part until a random boozer wandered in and greeted us as if he might join us and settle in for a good drunken chinwag.  He didn't look like the type that would be familiar with the 19th century Freemen of Manchester so after a perfunctory "Hello" from our excellent QM, Andrew, he wandered off.

The respective line-ups were Howell, Brian, Paul and myself matched against John, Gerry, Bernard and Bill.  No Damian who is currently cruising mid-Atlantic.  Round One saw the Opsis take a reasonable lead and the scoreline just continued in the same direction thereafter.  At the close Bernard did observe that the Charas would have done better if they'd chosen to go first but it would only have put a small dent in the substantial 23-point margin.

Specially for David

(R5/Q3)

Howell and Brian had outstanding games both dredging up bits of long buried information from the deepest recesses.  In the 'Manchester Freemen' round Brian's recall of the Knight of the Order of St Gregory the Great and, then straight after, the cockney with a square named after him, when the rest of us were perplexed, was memorable.  As for me I think I played my part but as Howell noted later I did get all three unanswerables that came our way.

So, on to the 'Wooden Spoon' final next week when we face the Pigs at the Club.  A win for us would lift us from the foot of the table just in time for the league season's close.

Party-goer Beverley

(R7/Q1)

John prepares to tell Damian about that lost paddle

Whilst Damian sails to exotic places on his cruise ship the rest of the Charas seem to be adrift up the proverbial creek of effluent sans paddle.  The quiz was extremely well officiated by Andrew Simcock (for whose services we thank the Electric Pigs), but the Charas were never at the races.  None of us had any real complaint about the questions, we just didn’t know very many answers.  Reviewing the questions after the game we thought we might have scored slightly better had we gone second rather than first, but it would have made little difference to the outcome.  At least we did our handicap the world of good in readiness for the Cup.

From Google to the Gogglebox

(R8/Q8)

Gerry recalls the days of the legendary manager, Fr Megson

Young(ish) team captain Damian went on an early cruising holiday leaving the Charabancs to sink or swim.  Reader, we  sank...... Sank, sunk, stunk whatever the word is.  And all this against the Opsimaths who themselves know a thing or two about sinking without trace under the watchful eye of wily old peer and former Warden of the Sink Estates, Lord Bath.  His old dogs were suddenly sitting up, performing old tricks and gleefully jumping through hoops with half-remembered aplomb. 

Never go back.  Never expect an old manager to bring back the glory days. 'Faster, higher, longer' was for many years the Olympic boast of the Charabancs of Fire, the fabled quiz outfit from the Reeks under Father Megson.  Sadly, as last night proved, it no longer applies to them.  Not around the quiz table and most certainly not around the  Griffin urinal.  In short they were not just under the weather tonight; they were under-motivated, underdressed, undersexed and generally underwhelming.  Just add the words UNDER HERE and you have a perfect epitaph for them when they eventually decide to pop their clogs.  Sic transit Gloria Hunniford as our Latin speaking parents used to say. 

There is bound to be a conspiracy against us though.  Just subscribe to our podcast and we will soon come up with one.

Bart's bummer

(R2/Q1)

'Sweetness' Hammond tells of some youthful twanging

Anne Marie was 'Master of the Evening' with the sort of authority I once tried to aspire to, although addressing me as "Sweetness" in response to my "Darling" reminded me that it is three quarters of a century since I engaged in that sort of badinage.

It was a delight to see the absolute amazement on Jim's face when I was able to assist him with Lionel Bart's awful flop of the early 60's.  Twanging in the days of my youth involved something different from bowstrings.

It was a close match played on a very convivial and sportsmanlike evening.  All the better for having the strength of character to sling a couple of would-be darts players out of the room - and suggesting that the card players tidy up their mess before leaving. 

Recall of the week was a two-pointer to our worthy champions who remembered that Lesley Whittle was the Black Panther's victim.  We were still trying to recall where her father got his millions from in an effort to dredge up some glimmer of remembrance of the poor girl's name.  The lead changed several times during the match which was a well fought and close encounter.