This week marks the beginning of our Special 2010 Listener Drive, where I ask you, the awesome trivia geek who finds something in this worth listening to, to tell a friend about it. If you get someone new to listen to this who didn’t before, and you let me know about it(Tony Hightower At Gmail Dot Com), then when this podcast reaches 500 listeners (we’re at about 300 now), I’ll give you and the new kid each a great prize pack, full of prizes too swanky to give away at the regular quiz nights.
It’s getting to the point where I’m really starting to think TriviaNYC is on to something here, and it’s time we really turned this into something that can prove to everyone out there that trivia nights don’t have to suck, don’t have to be all about the ego of the host, and don’t have to be restricted to one kind of super-injokey bullshit. I really try to open our nights up as much as possible. I hope that shows. If it doesn’t, or if there’s something that might stop you from recommending us to someone, let me know. We’ll see what we can do.
Like the airlines say, we appreciate that you have many options in your trivia evenings. We’re glad you choose to fly with us.
This week, there’s an extra long list of great team names from the last two weeks. I don’t read every team name, but there are a lot of good ones these days, and they all deserve a little bit of dap.
Enjoy the podcast.
Subscribe - RSS Feed | iTunes
(We’re on the twitters and the emails.)
Our Tuesday Trivia at Slainte and our Wednesday Trivia at Dempsey’s are both on in full effect, as always. Come out, see us in person, win something!
Have a great week.
Popularity: 16% [?]
I don’t know what the hell happened, but last week’s podcast didn’t upload properly. I didn’t realize that was what had happened until later in the week, and since I’m a lazy bastard, I figured I’d just take the extra weekend to prepare for a bunch of other stuff going on this summer and leave it at that.
In which I go off a little on the way l’affaire Kobayashi was handled, and how contract disputes have become a part of every sport eventually, whether it’s company beer-league softball, NFL Football, whatever it is the kids on The Hills are doing, anywhere. That doesn’t make incidents like this any sadder, but to see the tut-tutting and ostracism of the greatest eater any one of us will ever know (Joey Chestnut could win ten Nathan’s Hot Dog Contests in a row and he still wouldn’t be fit to carry the Tsunami’s tennis bag) makes me weep a little bit for the innocence of a sweet and simple sport lost in such a needless and brutal fashion.
Well, it turns out, to quote someone famous only in the sporting realm, they were who we thought they were. The United States Men’s National Soccer Team, ranked 14th in the world going into the world cup, made it to the round of 16 before losing to the Ghanaians. It happens, and it may be disappointing, but statistically, they did not disappoint. And hey, they did do better than the French, the Italians and the North Koreans. So that’s good.
Right off the top, congratulations to everyone who participated in the World Quiz Championships, both here in New York and in the 28 countries around the world It was as difficult as expected, but we represented as a city, and as a continent against those Euro-polyglot-polymath know-it-alls. One of these days, and it might be sooner than you think, we’re gonna catch you. Just like soccer. We’re coming.
In which I issue a shortened podcast instead of a proper one, due to the fact that I’d like to try a couple of new things, and rearranging my schedule to accommodate these ideas seemed like the best thing. I’m doing this now because I am in fact going away this weekend, and even though doing remote podcasts isn’t something we’re entirely alien to, I do wish to keep this thing (as the kids say when they think the adults are around and want to include said oldsters in their conversation and yet make everyone feel “hip” and “with it” despite the word sounding delightfully postmodern to the boomer’s ear, approximately fifteen inches of eye-rollingly ironic to the Xer, and to abovesaid kids, so overdone as to be virtually meaningless as anything other than a placatory adjective) fresh.
In which I go on a bit longer than I initially expected about the apocalypse, and a bit less than I’d have preferred about the origins of the Wu Tang Clan. Eh, it happens.
In which I make a vaguely off-color joke about an actress from the early days of talkies, dare Fred Armisen to change my mind about his night gig, bring back the sexiest commercial I’ve ever aired, and throw down the gauntlet to myself, you and myself again about making this night even better than it already is.