So what makes a good pub quiz?

I've always liked a good quiz. Bullseye, Family Fortunes, Gambit (remember that one?), Blockbuster, Mastermind or Runaround. I wasn't fussy. We weren't much of an Arena or Panorama household, so it was up to gameshow quizzes to kick off my interest in miscellany.

I started doing pub quizzes regularly in the mid 90s and still meet up with the same team every few months — despite us living hundreds of miles apart, having started families and accumulated (and lost) grey hair.

When we moved to Spreyton a couple of years ago, we were keen to contribute somehow to village life. Finding that the Tom Cobley quiz had been dormant for a while, I floated the idea to Roger about bringing it back. Happily, he was up for it and we're just hitting the first anniversary of what I overclaim as "The best pub quiz in Spreyton™".

A good pub

George Orwell famously outlined his vision of the ideal pub in a 1946 essay entitled "The Moon Under Water" (which spawned the Wetherspoons naming convention). I think he got it about right (although he forgot to mention the presence of a fine quiz). I'd say the Tom Cobley meets his criteria and the team there are very generous hosts. In fact, watch out for a guest question from Roger at the next one.

The right questions

Richard Osman (Pointless, Thursday Murder Club) recently said that a good question elicits one of only two responses — either "I knew that!" or "Ooh, I didn't know that".

There's no fun in being asked "Who came third in the Derby in 1983?". No-one knows and no-one cares. Whereas "what are the three main ingredients of Branston Pickle?" is something no-one has ever considered, but can have a good guess at (and debate about).

My favourite ever question is the one that I always ask at the end of the quiz, and if you come along you'll find out what it is — everyone else has.

Interesting team names

My friends and I still use the same name ("Mostly Northerners") after 25 years. It has, to our ears at least, the right mix of being a little cryptic, easy to say and distinctive. And it stops us having to think of a new one every time.

There are a few well-known puns that crop up regularly. Certainly "Quiz Team Aguilera" has graced more than a few teams.

A mix of friends

Pub quizzes are, of course, not about the quiz at all. They're an excuse to get together with people you like and be guaranteed to actually have something to talk about. If there was a Pub Quiz Marketing Board (I might start it), the slogan would be "Finally, no more awkward silences".

Importantly, you want people with a breadth of skills. It's why quizzes are for everyone, not just nerdy middle-aged blokes (like me). It's no good if your team is chock full of similarly-minded individuals who all know the same history and sport but are flummoxed by the Taylor Swift question.

That said, the main thing is probably to have people you can have a (largely) good-natured disagreement with — "I told you it was tennis elbow!".

Slightly annoying music rounds

The most important thing here is having a half-decent sound system. There's nothing more grating than a feedback-drenched ropey PA or a whispering, tinny baked-bean-can set-up you just can't hear.

Good music rounds have song clips that are just the right side of annoyingly short — for that "Ooh, I was just about to get it!" sort of feeling. The Radio 1 Roadshow's "Bits & Pieces" game from yesteryear's 70s summers is the gold standard here, so I nicked the jingle.

A shout out to my 8yo daughter too, who voices the question numbers for this round, thereby offering an angelic counterpoint to my barking, secretly West Yorkshire tones.

Keeping it phone-free

Mobile phones have dropped a stink bomb into enough areas of life without ruining quizzes too. It is possible to create Google-proof questions — for example mixing several fruit juices and asking people to identify them — but really, cheating at quizzes is the sort of rare heinous offence that still warrants the donning of a black cap.

Indeed, one of the great pleasures of quizzes these days is that they are liberatingly phone-free zones. Where else in modern life (maybe swimming?) can you spend a couple of hours without everyone checking their messages?

Prestige not prizes

Our quiz has a prize pot of £20, which after an entry fee of £2 per person (all to the Village Trust) isn't much of a return. I often think it's not needed at all.

Because it's not about the money. It's the glory. The bragging rights. And of course, custodianship of the winner's trophy for a month. There's nothing more prestigious on the mantelpiece for when the vicar pops round.

The Tom Cobley Trophy is widely considered to be the Jules Rimet of all quiz trophies. Hewed from solid uranium by the mountain trolls of Bow, it's on permanent loan from the British Museum, and I'm not giving it back.

Distracting picture rounds

The benefit of having a few questions on a separate piece of paper extends to more than variety. Not only do they allow team members to stare at future questions when they've no idea about the current one, but the blank reverse side of the picture round serves as handy scrap paper when trying to work out those tricky anagram questions.

Late drama

Much like football play-offs, it's always good if teams still think they have a chance late in the proceedings. At our quiz, I've added in the spice of a wipeout round at the end. This dangles the carrot of a grandstand finish — 10 bonus points if you get them all right — but at the cost of a custard-pie-style zero points in the face if you get any wrong.

Fancy a warm-up before then? There's a fresh Pub Quiz Daily every single day — and you can replay any past week in the archive.