Revenge of the Nerds (an epic tale, or just a long winded ramble)

I mentioned that I was busy last Saturday which prevented me from making the Super Bowl party as awesome as normal. The reason was that I was at my daughter's Academic Decathlon competition. And let me tell you, what a way to spend a Saturday.

What is Academic Decathlon? Well, it is a competition involved ten events, but they're all academic. I'm not going into all the details. If you're interested, look here.

My oldest daughter went through a goth phase when she was in junior high. She didn't want to participate in anything, her grades sucked, wore black, the whole nine yards. I'm pretty sure a lot of this was her response to my ex leaving, and the subsequent divorce. But I didn't like it at all.

When she was ready to start high school, I was determined to put an end to this. I told her that she was required to join at least one school event every year she was in high school. I didn't care if it was a sport, band, debate, chess club, whatever. I wanted her to get involved. I thought this was a brilliant plan.

She had other ideas. She complained, bitched, moaned, and generally acted as if I had asked her to prostitute herself so I could have beer money. However, I am a rock, and I didn't budge on my stance. In her final act of defiance, she decided to pick something she would be an utter failure at, in hopes I would change my mind. The club she picked, you guessed it, Academic Decathlon.

But a funny thing happened on the way to showing up her old man. The subject matter that year was the Renaissance. One of the by-products of her goth phase was that she gained an interest in art. Slowly, she started getting into the studies for this topic. And because the club was fairly new for her school, they only had seven kids in it (nine is a regulation team), so she automatically made the team. She worked pretty hard at it, and off they went to the regional competition.

Both she and her team got slaughtered.

Sophomore year, and the subject was China. She had been getting into Asian cultures for the last couple of years, so she decided to stay on board for this topic. Once again, she worked hard, studies vigorously, and had high hopes going into regionals.

Both she and her team got slaughtered.

By her junior year, she had grown out of her goth phase. She was growing into a woman, and even joined a couple of other clubs at the school. She played one sport, and her grades were starting to come up. The topic this year was the Civil War, which is something I studied extensively. Finally, something I could help her with. She and her team would come over to my place, we would order pizzas, and they would study while I helped them out. Their goal was to have someone, anyone, win an individual medal in any event. We were confident that this was the year.

Both she and her team got slaughtered.

Senior year, and the topic is Latin America. Once again, everyone is working hard. Once again, confidence is high. She and her best friend had been at this for four years, and they were sure a Hollywood ending was in store for them. And it seemed to me like a million years ago when I had that youthful optimism, instead of my bitter pessimism. Tucson sure isn't Hollywood.

So that is where I was sitting on Saturday, for the fourth year in a row. I love my daughter, and I will support her in damn near anything she wants to do, as long as it is legal, but I have to say that I would rather spend a day getting my teeth drilled than sit through that freak show. It starts off with something called Super Quiz, which isn't too bad. It's kind of like a game show. Each team member sits at their table, and they ask a multiple choice question. If they get it right, their team gets a point. Each member gets five questions, and for the whole team, it is a total of 45 questions.

However, these questions are damn near impossible. I graduated college summa cum laude with a degree in electrical engineering. I am far from stupid. But listening to these questions make me feel like an absolute moron. It amazes me how many these kids get right.

Most of the kids dress like idiots. They wear stupid hats. I've seen kids with Spock ears. I've seen guys wearing hula skirts. Imagine a room full of Urkels. I'm not even exaggerating, this is what it's like. It's absolutely ridiculous. I'm just grateful my daughter and her school don't do this.

Then they have a couple of hours of break while scores for all the events are tabulating, and the awards are determined. We usually bring some cards, and play cards while this is going on. The kids are usually burnt out at this point, since they've spent the last two days taking tests, giving speeches and interviews, and writing essays for the competition.

Then it's back for the awards ceremony. There are ten events, 3 divisions, and the top three in each division get a medal. Yes, that's 90 awards given out. Consider the fact that the one school in our region that has won every year (and even went to nationals last year) wins about 80 of these medals, and it makes for a long day.

So I was watching Super Quiz this year, feeling stupid, when I noticed something strange happening. Her team was doing OK. The kids were getting 3-4 questions right per turn. They were lurking near the top. However, the team that wins every year pulled away at the end, my daughter's team struggled late, and when the final results were shown, they finished tied for fifth. Considering the highest the school had ever finished was 15th, this was a major accomplishment, and the kids were thrilled. Unfortunately, only the top three teams in this event get an award, so they were still shut out.

On to the awards ceremony. My chronically messed-up back was starting to rebel after sitting in the bleachers for so long. I was zoning out while the annual parade of winners from the school that always wins was going on. Then something bizarre happened.

They called my daughters name!

Her team was sitting on the other side of the gym, directly across from us. It was funny to see all nine of their jaws drop in unison. They were looking around in complete disbelief. She told me later that they were also zoning out, and they weren't sure if they misheard it. Since nobody was going up to the podium, she finally headed over there. Yes, my daughter, the poor grade having, school hating, social misfit, had just won the first medal in her school's history. I was completely speechless, and I don't think I've ever been happier for her in my life. Heck, even typing this now several days after the fact is making me giddy. She had won a silver medal for her interview.

She had a huge grin that couldn't be blown off of her face with a grenade. All of her teammates were just as excited. I was trying to be cool, but I was so excited, so I was fidgeting around like a toddler with a bladder problem. It just couldn't get any better.

Except it did. A little while later, she was announced as the silver medal winner in the math category. It was so cool to see the bounce and confidence in her step as she went to the stage a second time. It truly was like something had changed in her. I just wanted to yell to everyone, "That's my kid!" One of my all time great moments as a parent.

We went out to dinner afterwards, and she was absolutely beside herself. It was really strange to see her all giggly, and smiling, and genuinely happy. I can honestly say I haven't seen this side of her since she was a little kid. It's such a nice change from the moody, gloomy teenager.

So I guess I need to change my disclaimer. This is about as happy feel-good story as it gets.