Eating my Words

A very good line (and there are lots of them) from the 'forties and 'fifties radio show, Take It From Here, memorably written by the then relatively young Frank Muir and Denis Norden, has Jimmy Edwards pretending to be a Harley Street dermatologist, and saying, "I may be a skin specialist, but I am not given to rash statements". I have this in my mind this morning, as I sit down at the keyboard with my steaming (it is still bloody cold) mug of coffee by my side, as all I did when looking ahead to the young persons' quiz, which duly took place last night, was to doubt that it would be much good, as far as our terms of reference go. I did not go any further and threaten to eat my hat if it turned out all right.

Which is just as well, as otherwise my coffee would be being used to wash down a plate of boiled bowler, or toasted trilby, or poached panama, or any other alliterative combination you might care to think of. The two young guys, Nick and Dominic, presented a quiz which was quite difficult, but for what we old-timers regard as the right reasons, in that it was not dumbed down at all, which we had all rather feared, especially as Dominic had said that it would be "suitable for young people". Sadly, it was not all that suitable for them, as the young people's teams still came last, and our eternal rivals Luis, David, Gitte and their three (well 2½) new signings beat us into second place by about ten points. No excuses for us, either, we were back to full strength, and although it was freezing down in the cellar-bar, well, the cold affects the just and the unjust alike, to paraphrase something or other.