My son Teddy, who is 29, lives in Spokane and works in Alaska, is a trivia buff and Spokane Chiefs hockey fan.

I have to admit that nonsense has finally paid off. I'm going to let him tell you in his own words.

By Teddy Escobar,

For the Royal Register

SPOKANE - Last fall I entered a contest online with the Spokane Chiefs and then thought no more of it. On Thursday I got a call from the Chiefs asking me if I was still willing and able to make it to the game to compete.

I was informed I would be playing trivia, at which I'm awesome. And then the two winners would move on to the second event, to be announced at the game.

I got to the game and met up with the people from the arena and a couple of other guys picked for the contest. Shortly before the end of the first period, I walked down to a room with everyone, and we were split into pairs for trivia.

Vegas trivia. We were playing for a trip to Vegas.

I don't know jack squat about Vegas!

Everyone missed the first question, and then my team answered one more question correctly than the other teams. My partner John was actually pretty knowledgable. So that helped.

After the win, we celebrated for the camera and walked into the locker room area. At that moment, my teammate John became my enemy. The final round for the trip was a puck shootout in the second intermission.

I headed back to my seat to sit with my family and five friends who showed up, growing more nervous by the second. I'd played plenty of golf, but I'd never shot a hockey puck.

In the shootout, we would each have five alternating shots, and I strategically asked John to go first. The arena was dark except for three spotlights on the ice.

We stood in the crease (where the net sits) and shot to the other end of the rink. The first spotlight was worth five points, and it was the biggest target. in the middle of the rink was a smaller spotlight worth 10 points, and just before the opposite net was a small spotlight worth 25 points.

John's first shot almost made five points, but he shot just a little too soft. I was worried he would get more points with those skills, so I went straight for 25 points.

I overshot, but I made a goal, pretty much ensuring the hockey contracts would come rolling in.

John's second shot went way left. So I tried for 10 points and veered left. Maybe golf didn't pay off.

John's third shot went way left again. So I took the opportunity to make five points to take the lead.

At this point the heat was on. So John changed up his strategy and hit his fourth shot to the right.

By now, I was pretty comfortable in my skills as a hockey puck shooter. So I went big and watched my fourth puck curve left of the 25-point spotlight.

Dang! I can't let my family down! John can't win!

So I stepped back and let John take his last shot. He shot straight as an arrow at the five-point light to tie the game and kick us into a sudden death shootout.

But he ended up overshooting and leaving his puck right between the five and 10-point lights.

I won!

I started celebrating, but I was told I had to shoot my last shot. Salt on the wound for poor John.

The arena went silent. All you could hear was the crack of my hockey stick and the friction of the puck on the ice as I nailed another five points!

Sealed in stone, I was headed to Las Vegas.

And oh yes, and I got a letter from the Chiefs. They'd never seen anybody shoot like me.

They tore up, incinerated and buried my contract.