It's another successful trivia night! A couple hours of trivia covering topics from historical figures to Tom Cruise movies and every random piece of knowledge in between.

This is a weekly event where yes, people can flaunt their awareness of mostly useless facts. But what I love about trivia night is the sense of community that is created amongst all the competitors.

What? A community of competitors?

Yes.

And tonight is the absolute perfect example of that community.

I’m over congratulating the night’s trivia game winners but I don’t see the signature brown envelope that contains their gift card prize.

“Congrats! Did you get your gift card?”

Casually, the winning team says, “Yea, we gave it to the birthday boy.”

I look over at another trivia team a few tables away and see a family celebrating a birthday with cupcakes, beer and the gifted gift card.

My faith in humanity is restored.

My joy in hosting trivia is renewed.

My style of playing games is validated.

The tear ducts in my eyes begin a flooding operation which I quickly blame on mold, asbestos and global warming.

Now, I’m not saying I’m a fan of participation trophies, but I do think that there’s more to competition than just winning. 

OK, I say it, and I’m really trying to model it but I have some competitive tendencies that rear their ugly heads now and now.

The way we approach trivia hosting and the people our style attracts is a microcosm of the kind of world I want to live in and the kind of people I want to hang with.

If you want to play questions and answers, there are plenty of apps and board games and online products you can use.

If you want to compete against others with your level off knowledge about a broad range of topics, you can go to a hosted trivia night.

If you want an experience of fun, laughter and cooperative competition, come to our trivia night.

This isn’t a commercial, just a commentary.

Seeing friendly faces week after week is fantastic.

Watching people get “think face” at some of our harder questions is entertaining.

Watching teams playfully razz each other during rounds and go visit with one another during breaks is heart-warming.

This mirrors my thoughts on the Teppanyaki restaurant.

If you’re hungry, grab some food.

If you want a prepared meal, go to a restaurant.

If you want an experience, slide up to a Teppan and dine with strangers who become friends, if even for just the length of the meal.

I’m all for competition. Competition drives us to up our game, sharpen our sword and give us an edge.  

Make room for cooperative competition in your life too. The human experience doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game.  

You may sacrifice your prize for first place, but the real win is in the community you create, the bonds you forge and the reputation you solidify.