Only Connect

It’s difficult to feel proud to be British at the moment. Our democracy lies in ruins: not so Mother Theresa has been elected as Prime Minister without winning any kind of election; meanwhile, the opposition continue to tear down their own house, throwing the ensuing bricks at one another. As for May’s cabinet re-shuffle, she’s put Cameron’s Kings at the bottom and replaced them with a right Joker on top. Yes, No lie: Boris Johnson, a man who the rest of the world believes has a Pinocchio complex, is Foreign Minister. In the words of that classic British sitcom Dads Army, we’re doomed.

Also in the sporting arena we’ve shown ourselves up yet again. In our national game our players rather aptly froze against Iceland. Yes, Wales reached the semi-final, but isn’t the euphoria of Robson-Kanu’s Cruyff turn diminished when you remember they conceded two goals against England? Imagine conceding two goals in a major championship against England. Those Wales boys shouldn’t have been celebrated on their return home; they should have been bundled into the back of waiting cars, their bowed faces covered like offenders en-route to jail.

National embarrassments, Wales, return home.

For all the sporting and political shame, there is one thing we can feel proud of as a nation: our quiz shows. It is a golden era for quiz shows in Britain. Some of you may point to the age of Weakest Link and Who Wants To Be a Millionaire as the zenith, arguing that these were peak-time programmes that commanded huge viewing figures. In truth though, the former was a cold, hollow exercise in masochism, and the latter's thirteen year history is now remembered for a host’s annoying laugh and a contestant’s tickly cough. Essentially, neither were warm nor friendly, putting too much emphasis on tension and drama, and not enough on good old-fashioned quizzing.

Now, I love a quiz. I especially love a pub quiz. The pub quiz is apparently quite a British tradition – it doesn’t really happen abroad. We Brits don’t just use alcohol as a social lubricant; we use questions too. We’re simply too unevolved to ignite the fires of discourse and debate by rubbing our heads together, instead we depend on short-cuts, social firelighters, to inflame our talk.

"Just what should we call our team."

Me and the girl are also quiz machine addicts. One Saturday we came out The Dickens Museum early (I seem to have inherited my mum's desire to push interests onto a partner: just as she has my dad traipsing round pencil museums and slate museums, I force my girlfriend to go around the homes of dead authors) and had hours to kill before we met out friends for dinner. Knowing that The Rocket on Euston Road has a pub quiz machine, we went in there and fed its belly with 50p pieces. Despite being over-sated with lovely silver, the machine did not regurgitate its excess, meaning we left penniless two hours later, our dreams of future home ownership lying in the balance.

Anyway, the show I wanted to talk to you about today is BBC 2’s Only Connect. Such is Connect’s success that last season it gained an internal promotion and moved offices from BBC4 to BBC2. This was its 11^th season and the first one I saw; I’m now a lifelong convert and will visit its altar until the day some senseless heathen decommissions it.

For those of you who haven’t seen Only Connect, essentially it is the smarts of University Challenge without the smugness. Whereas Challenge is combative- Mensa cards at dawn- Connect is kind, cosy and prone to good-natured joshing. It helps I think that the contestants are older and therefore more self-aware; consequently they wear their intelligence lightly, knowing that in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t really matter.

Victoria Coren-Mitchell is also a European Tour poker champion. Fact.

Connect is hosted by the lovely Victoria Coren-Mitchell, daughter to a famous wit, sister to a food critic and wife to a famous comedian. And in her fiendish quiz, she will have her vengeance. The questions are hard in Only Connect, there’s no getting past it. There are some episodes where I struggle to get a question right. But like Challenge the joy lies in that hope you might get one. Now in fact would be a good time to start because at the beginning of the series the questions are easier, you have a fighting chance, by the end of the series even an omniscient deity couldn’t help you.

The show is divided into four rounds. The first asks you to understand what links the four answers. For example, ‘Monday: met,’ ‘Tuesday: drink,’ ‘Wednesday: made love,’ ‘Thursday: made love,’ the answer would be ‘Craig David’s week.’ The earlier you get the sequence the more points you get. The next round asks you to name the final answer in the sequence; this week’s one was

Charlotte I, George VII, William V and … Can you guess what it is? After that is the Word Wall, perhaps even harder than the Berlin one to penetrate. This one plots 16 words that you have to group into 4 categories of four, naming the links at the end. Have a go at doing the one below.

"Bring on the wall."

The last round is the missing vowels round and is the one ‘the girl’ most excels at. In this round, you’re given a category, e.g. House of Commons positions, then have to name the words, e.g. blckrd; ldr f th cmmns; chf whp – did you get any of them?

So if you fancy giving your brain a half hour workout, why not sit in front of the gymnasium and be put through your paces with a kind instructor. Better that than Boot Camp with Paxman.

Only Connect is on BBC 2, Monday at 8.30