Friday, 13 November 2009

This is my sport

I don't do exercise.

Hold on to yourselves. I know this news is coming as a colossal shock. But I don't do running-around-a-sports-field-chasing-a-pig's-bladder. I don't do running-around-a-sports-field. I don't do running.

I'm actually drinking from a bottle of Gatorade as I type this. The irony would be unbearable, were it not for the fact that I had to go and get a spoon from the kitchen to lever off the sports cap.

But there is a competitive edge in all of us. And for me, this materialises itself in the arena of the quiz. Often, but not always, the pub quiz. No, I don't get all sweaty and out-of-breath. But put me in a team with a suitably pithy and amusing name, and I will crush all comers. And if there's a pint or two in the mix, maybe some pork scratchings, I'll be at peak performance.

Several weeks ago there was such an event - a music quiz, no less, my specialist subject. Knowing about Greek gods and the periodic table is all well and good, but really there is no substitute for being able to recognise obscure one-hit wonders from the early eighties.

Nominally, we were a team, the four of us. 'Sex, Drugs and Sausage Rolls' was our name. But our respective strengths were a little unequal. Essentially I answered the questions, team member A reminded me that the Shangri-Las did 'Leader of the Pack', G got the crisps in and S giggled nervously. A role for everyone.

And I was transformed. The music clips played, and I whispered the answers after a second or so. On one occasion the music failed and only one note was played. "Oh, that's the beginning to 'Under the Bridge'. It's not the Red Hot Chili Peppers version, though, it's the All Saints cover."

My team members shot me a nervous look.

They were even more nervous when I had to correct the quizmaster later on. But if people are going to assert that Soft Cell performed the original version of 'Tainted Love' then they need to be corrected. Do these people not know anything about Northern Soul?

The nervous giggling from S became even more intense. G suggested I was exhibiting special characteristics. I think I may have been showing off. But this is my sport. This is my arena.

In recognition of my single-minded focus, this was posted over my desk the following day:

I think they're trying to tell me something.


Dory said...

I ackshully LOLd at the end. Bravo! Your coworkers are Teh Hawsum.

Le laquet said...

Oh my lord yes - they know you ... now more than a bit scared that as I typed I spelt know as (phonetically) k-no-you .... I give up!!!


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