London

The look of defeat? Time Out try to take down the Dream Team

Round two
Having scored 16 out of 20, we’re way out in front, which promptly provokes predictable cries of ‘cheats’ from our competitors (who still have no idea our team is full of ringers). Round two is the picture round. While Olav and Richard argue whether it’s ‘The Ramones’ or ‘Ramones’, there’s a dispute in the ranks over whether a photo is of JK Rowling or Sarah Greene. To me, it looks more like Robbie Savage, but I’m overruled by Jane, who claims with considerable force that ‘Sarah Greene’s cheekbones are much more sharply defined than Rowling’s. Definitely!’ She’s right of course.

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But despite Jane’s knowledge of the facial bone structure of menopausal women, we score only 17 to Time Out’s 18. ‘Disgraceful’ is Olav’s harsh verdict.

Meanwhile, on the Time Out table… A picture round involving celebrities and album covers gives us hope. I nip to the bar, and by the time I get back the albums have been ticked off in rapid succession by the team (including art rockers Devo). We stumble on one of the celebrities – it’s definitely one of Fergie’s daughters, but which ginger is it? We plump for Beatrice. It’s Eugenie. But who cares? We’ve beaten the boffins!

Round three
Round three and The Dream Team up the pace. Midlander David is the only one to correctly identify that London’s Lombard Street is named after the north Italian merchants who settled there in the twelfth century. Olav claims that ‘Cats’ is the name of the show that opened in May 1981 and closed in 2002, then, despite his earlier insistence about first answers, changes it to ‘Starlight Express’ (and yes, he was right first time. Ha!).

David draws a fantastically accurate map of Europe on the back of a beer mat in order to prove that Rome is roughly 590 miles south of Paris. Then my question arrives. ‘What year did Jackie Onassis die?’ Richard is convinced it’s 1997. I know it’s 1994. The others sensibly side with Richard. I protest until Richard asks me how I can be so sure. ‘Because she died the same day as my father.’ Silence. Followed by several embarrassed apologies.

‘It’s okay, I’m over the crying bit. I’m just telling you, it’s nineteen-ninety-fucking-four.’

The quicker the questions come, the harder they get. My outburst seems to have unsettled the team. Suddenly there’s more conferring. Virtually every question results in five heads coming together, whispers being exchanged before a general nodding of concurrence. It’s probably the result of downing five pints, but I’m convinced they’re all talking about me. Perhaps I overplayed the dead parent bit.

Meanwhile, on the Time Out table…With brains fully warmed up, the team is playing a blinder. Nick apparently knows the dimensions of the Statue of Liberty, Gabriel shows an impressive insight into ‘The Cosby Show’, Tom recalls the exact year of an Estonian ferry disaster, and Krista solves a fiendish puzzle involving the distances between European cities (mainly because she saw the experts writing the answer down – sterling work). But despite our heroics and getting the same number of points as The Dream Team for this round, it looks like it wasn’t quite enough. Ah well. At the end of the day, it’s not the winning that matters. It’s the fact that we know more about ‘The Poseidon Adventure’ than they do.

The results
Having been out in front from round one, class has told and The Dream Team have won. Although only by five points more than a certain London-centric magazine. ‘Yeah but some of those questions were really tricky,’ says Richard. ‘And five points is usually half a round, and that’s quite a lot in my book.’

Having received a round of applause, we sheepishly accept the pot of £43 – we still haven’t been rumbled. To their credit, the ace quizzers insist on sharing their winnings with me. ‘You answered a question so you deserve it,’ says David, kindly overlooking the fact that correctly identifying the year in which your father died shouldn’t really entitle you to any sort of bonus.
‘So that’s £6 each,’ says Ian.

‘£6.50 surely,’ offers Richard

‘No, I think you’ll find £6.75.’

‘Hang on, £43 divided by six that’s, er, £7. No, er…’ Good job there wasn’t an arithmetic round.