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Tag: Quiz Bowl

Your Homeboy’s Little Hack For Getting That Hi-Q Edge Back

6 Min Read

You swear you weren’t meaning to get a leg up on the competition.

But now you gotta fix the situation without drawing too much attention…


“Hello, old man! Hi there, old woman!” I said in my head as I tipped my proverbial hat to the elderly couple sitting at the table at the front of the relatively small room. “Don’t mind me,” I said aloud. “I’m just killing time until my old teammates show up for their turn.”

Back in December of ’99 I was a freshman in college, so I was still tight with my younger homies from the Rolla High School Scholars’ Bowl team–especially Jerome1Okay, so his real name is Jeremy–and yes, it’s true, I’m pretty much half-assing this whole ‘protecting the innocent’ schtick., the current senior and captain of the team. So when they traveled to Wichita right before Christmas break to try out for Hi-Q, you bet your sweet ass I hopped in ye’ olde Taurus SHO and drove the 2 hours from my college town to show them my full-throated support.

And maybe, just maybe, relive my glory days just a well bit. Have I ever mentioned that during my time at RHS I was a 3-time State Champion, was on the only Rolla team to take first place at every tournament in a season,2Unless the 2023 tea managed to accomplish this feat… and made the Sante Fe Trail All-League all 4 years of my career (sorta)? What? No, I haven’t? *stifles laugh*

Anyways…sorry, I forgot to explain what Hi-Q was…it was basically a Jeopardy-style tournament for 16 of the finest academic teams in Kansas. This was different than our regular quiz bowl business in two respects: first, it was televised. Sure, it may have came on at 7 am on Sunday mornings, but it was televised nonetheless. And secondly, they held open tryouts and invited any and all high schools to send a team, regardless of size.

Sure, Rolla could smack around other Division 1A schools all day long. When we would pick on someone our own size–specifically schools with an entire Freshman-to-Senior student body of 69 students or less–it was not uncommon for us to p*mp slap up ’em up side the cranium. Being a big fish in a little pond is nothing particularly special. But Hi-Q? That was our chance to take down some of the biggest dogs in the state. The year before I started high school, the Rolla team got runner-up, and ever since then the following iterations had been chasing that achievement…but sadly, the furthest any team I was on only made it to the second round. Even though I had never been able to take care of unfinished business, I would have been almost equally as content to vicariously bask in any victories Jerome, et al. might attain at this year’s Hi-Q. I may have not been officially on the team that year, but I definitely was full-fledged member in spirit.

And apparently I was a little over-eager, as I had showed up to the Community College that was hosting the tryouts for the morning session, unaware that Rolla wasn’t due to give it a whirl until the afternoon session.

“Ah, what the hell, I might as well see what kinds of questions they’re asking this year,” I muttered to myself as I sat down to watch some random school do their best to field the set of 50 or so morning-session questions this particular elderly couple was about to lob at ’em. Unlike regular competition, the tryouts only featured a single team at a time in a room with two moderators–and the top 16 scores throughout the day got the privilege of partaking in the real tournament held at a later date.

“Eh, not too many of us here in the audience,” I noted as I looked around to see what appeared to be a total of 6 or 7 other random-school supporters sitting with me. “Not that it matters…”


“Oh, I’ve been here since 9 am. Where the ----- have you slackers been?” I razzed Jerome when they finally showed up. “In fact, I sat in on one of the morning tryouts…y’know trying to get a feel for what kind of questions are on the docket this year.”

“No sh*t? So what was your take?” Jerome replied. “Was it all stuff we know like the back of our hands? Or was it obscure, fancy big-city type of stuff we can expect people from Wichita to come up with?”

It was pretty clear that he was carrying on the tradition of carrying a small-school chip on his shoulder.

“Mostly stuff that we practice regularly, and you better get those questions right lest I beat yo’ ass otherwise, I simultaneously assured and threatened him.

“That’s good to hear, good to hear…”

“Oh But there were at least 2 or 3 that I had never heard before today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jerome looked at me inquisitively. “Such as?”

“Well, since you’ll get a totally different set of questions in the afternoon session, you might as well know that Margery Williams wrote The Velveteen Rabbit,” I intimated freely.

“Really? I never had a clue who had written that children’s classic. Heck, I barely recognize the name of that book, now that you mention it.”

“Yeah, I know right? What kind of snooty left-coast question is that? Anyways, um, lemme see. Here’s a few other bits of trivia I picked up today. Did you know that…?”


“Good afternoon, Ma’am. Good afternoon, Sir,” I greeted the elderly couple as nonchalantly as I could manage.

I turned to Jerome right before I took my not-so-randomly chosen seat.

“What the ----- are they doing here?” I half-joked through gritted teeth.

“Who?” he asked with a confused look on his face.

“This old couple, man…ha, ha…what a coincidence: this is the same room I was in earlier today. With the same elderly man and woman as moderators, too.”
“Hah. That’s mirthful,” Jeremy flirted with patronizing me. “Now if you excuse me, I gots me a Hi-Q to qualify for…

“Attaboy! Go get ’em, Tiger!” I straight-up patronized him back.

We all took our seats and let the proceedings get under way. I, for one, was eager to see what the set of afternoon session questions looked like.

About 3 questions in, an internal monologue started up in my head.

“Hmm…why am I getting a sense of deja vu? Ah! Maybe it’s because the answer to this question is…”

Right about then Jerome buzzed in. In unison, we said, “The movie Groundhog Day.”

Ah, yes, already it was the classic deja-vu-themed point of cultural reference.

“Wait a minute, now this next question seems oddly…familiar,” I thought to myself about Q #4. “That’s probably because the question asked what the term was for a vampire’s assistant. So that makes sense.”

Question Five was a different story altogether.

“What British author is best known for her work…” the elderly woman paused dramatically, “The Velveteen Rabbit?”

Jeremy looked back at me chuckling in mild disbelief with a look that clearly said “You gotta be ----- kidding me!”

I kinda shrugged back at him, with the expression on my face indubitably communicating, “How was I supposed to know they were going to ask the exact same set of questions during both sessions?!?”

To which he silently replied, “Well, I can’t unknow anything I may or may not have learned in the 30 minutes before I entered this room…”

“Wait!” I mentally reached out to him like Nic Cage trying to retrieve a loose ball of bio-toxins in the movie The Rock. “Don’t answer that! That contraband information can be traced directly back to me!”

But it was too late; he had already buzzed in.

“Margery Williams…I suppose,” he said, doing his best to pretend that this was foreknown factoid for him.

He looked back at me with something of a sheepish grin, implying “What’s a guy to do?”

I just planted my face in my palm, though I quickly looked back up at him with piercing eyes in order to send him a very clear message: “We’re in this together now, you cheating mother fucker.”

He kinda nodded. “We take this to our graves?” he said only with his eyes.

I nodded back. “To our graves.”

He then looked at the elderly couple then back to me. “And the eyewitnesses?” This time there was a certain sadness in his eyes.

We were long past the point of no return by now: we were no longer the two upstanding citizens that had walked into that room. I wiped a nascent tear from my eye–they were a precious and kind old couple, after all–and steeled my resolve.

With the slightest of nods and the gaze of a man who no longer had a soul, I telegraphed to Jerome those fateful words:

“To their graves as well…”

Which was a real shame, seeing as how, despite our bumbling cheating scheme and the ensuing cover-up, in the end Rolla didn’t even qualif for Hi-Q that year…


Content created on: 9/10 March 2024 (Sat/Sun)

Footnotes & References:[+]

The Confidential Tale Of The Know It All Going To Hell

6 Min Read

Just cuz somebody is a real smarty-pants doesn’t mean they don’t make dumb decisions on occasion.

And, no, I’m not returning my medal, man…


“And in fourth place…”

I held my breath. There were only five spots on the All-League team, and three out of my four teammates already had had their names called. I was but a lowly freshman, and I could merely hope to land a spot behind Ryan, the junior on our team, who was still aspiring to make the cut himself.

“…well, it looks like we have a three-way tie! All earning the honors as co-fourth-seats on the team are Ryan H. and BJ A. from Rolla High School (no surprise there), and Hanston High School’s very own, Local Kid! Come on up and get your medals–you earned them!”

I was slightly in shock. As a freshman, not only had I pulled it off, but I tied with the big-headed junior on our team!

The three of us walked to the front of the lunch room where the awards ceremony was being held. It didn’t take much more than that short walk for us whiz kids to quickly realize that the math didn’t add up here.

“Uh…I’m sorry, Local Kid, but we’ll have to send you your fourth place medal later in the mail,” the Hanston principal, who was emceeing the show, looked as compassionately at his student as he could, hoping not to kill the buzz of the dude’s modest victory…


Back in the day when I was attending Rolla High School, I had the great pleasure of partaking in the one activity in which our humble little school from Kansas was consistently a powerhouse: Scholars’ Bowl (aka Quiz Bowl, aka Jeopardy Light, etc). ‘Twas my freshman year, and at the time I was the runt of the proverbial litter, usually just relegated to watching the four upperclassfolk on my team kick intellectual ass. If I was lucky, I would get to sub in a late round once the tournament was already well in hand and I couldn’t possibly screw us over.

But at long last, here at the Santa Fe Trail League tournament–hosted by perennial football rival and now-defunct Hanston High School–I finally had the chance to prove myself and give the world a glimpse of the 100% Grade-A Quiz Bowl stud that would soon rise to state-wide domination over the next 3 years. Making the All-League Quiz Bowl team was an honor that any scholar could attain strictly on their own merits, even if they had 4 other mental dead-weights dragging them down.

Conversely, even if your other 4 teammates were frickin’ brainiacs–as was my case–you had to punch your own dang ticket onto the team.

And unlike most other Scholar Bowl activities which were oral-based and relied on one having speedy reaction times, admission into the exclusive All-League team featured a written test as it’s bouncer. Halfway through the tournament, the academic administrators running the show would herd all 35 or so of us youths into the Hanston lunch room and let us sit wherever we wanted. It should go without saying that they would precede to hand out pencils and sheets with roughly 20-30 questions,1The typical quiz bowl round consisted of 16 questions, so maybe that’s how many questions were on the test…but it seems like they should have given us more in that situation. Hell, I don’t remember. It’s been almost 30 years! set a timer for 15 minutes or so, and let us go to town.

Apparently, it was just the right conditions for my species to thrive…


“Ah, crap, a trigonometry question!” I muttered under my breath. “I won’t take trig until next year…I have no chance of getting this one right.”

Up until that point on the written test, I had been doing fairly well, but for some reason, not being able to throw out a wild guess and thus having a non-zero chance of getting this one right seemed to stick in my craw. It was only one of many questions, so I should have just counted my losses and moved on, right?

Wrong.

I simply could not bear the horror of that lone blank spot on my paper staring back at me.

I looked up from my test and locked eyes with David, the sophomore on our team and young man of noble character, who was sitting two feet away from me on the adjacent side of the lunch table. Yes, you heard me right–the dumbasses running the show haphazardly let us all sit together as a team. With my eyes, I drew his attention to the sad little empty spot on my sheet.

“I got you covered, my man,” he replied only with his eyes, as he slightly angled his answers just enough so I could see his chicken scratch scrawled at the bottom of the page.

“Tangent!” I proclaimed in my head as if I had just had an epiphany. “Hah! I knew it was something I would have never guessed on account of my complete lack of acquaintance with the topic of trigonometry. But now I will always and forever know that the tangent is ‘the ratio of the vertical leg of a right triangle to its horizontal counterpart.’ Done and done!”

I gave David a nod of appreciation and proceeded to jot it down, finally feeling at peace about turning in my test–all of which I had otherwise answered all on my own with my little freshman mind…


“Sorry, Local Kid, but we’ll have to send you your fourth place medal later…”

Those words hit a little differently now, don’t they? Now that you, Dear Reader, know that it should have been a two-way tie for fourth place and, ergo, enough medals to go around. Poor Local Kid.

“Sh*t. Had I known that one question would end up being so significant, I wouldn’t have even cheated on that singular occasion,” I thought to myself, acknowledging that I hadn’t really thought about how my error in judgement might possibly play out–it was only one question for crying out loud! I hadn’t done it to win, I had done it to avoid the wounded pride and shame that comes along with leaving one question blank. But whether premeditated or not, I was in this predicament either way.

“Welp, looks like I’m in too deep now,” I thought as I accepted my medal, still stunned not only by making the team as a freshman, but under the circumspect circumstances which it had happened.

“Guess I’m taking this one to the grave with me…”


“Why come clean now?” you may be indubitably asking.

Well, Dear Reader, that is a fantastic question. After all, I’m not dead…yet.2I do have some unresolved health issues indubitably related to officially becoming middle-aged over the last year, so my longevity actually can’t be taken for granted. Well, if nothing else I’m honest, and honestly it was never that big of a secret. I’m sure I’ve told some people over the years, including past girlfriends and current wives.

Heck, I figured I would just toss it out there for sh*ts ‘n giggles…and, in the spirit of Primary Season during an election year, I thought that just in case I ever want to run for President, I might as well get out in front of this scandal. Control the narrative and what-not. And I do want to point out that at least on the bright side, I hadn’t robbed anyone of a rightful spot on the All-League Team–had I let the tangent question go, Ryan and Local Kid would have filled the last two spots on the team, and I would have been left with the bragging rights of “making All-League 3 out of my 4 years of high school…”


So basically the point of the story is that if you’re going to cheat, you better be prepared to win–and all the emotional baggage that comes with carrying that unwelcome weight around until the statutes of limitations expires or you die, whichever comes first.

Anyways…I almost forgot the coda to the story: the following year when it came time to head to the host lunch room and take the All-League written test?
“This year we’re making a slight change,” they announced. “We’re randomly assigning you to a table, children, as no two of you from the same team are allowed to sit together…”

Okay, now I can’t confirm that the little stunt that David and I pulled was the cause for this much-needed ----- common-sense rule to be put in place–as far as I know that secret stayed between the two of us well into our college years–but a part of me can’t help be just a wee bit proud for perhaps making the world a tiny bit better place.

Of course, leaving an ass-backwards legacy was already kinda my thing by then.

What’s that? You don’t what I’m talking about?

Oh, my friend, just listen: the answer is Blowin’ In The Wind


Content created on: 23/24 February 2024 (Fri/Sat)

Footnotes & References:[+]

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