I protested as I was dragged toward the stage. Yeah, I'd reluctantly agreed earlier in the evening to enter a Chinese-speaking competition at a party but hadn't signed up for the crazy scene that was about to unfold.

I had figured that I'd get walloped by some retired sinologists who'd lived in China for several decades and did their PhDs on Tang Dynasty (AD618-907) poetry - and probably every other contestant. And thought: "Hey, what the heck?"

But as I was being hauled before the crowd, I saw what I was up against and immediately tried to escape the grip of the man leading me toward public humiliation - to no avail.

You could say it didn't take long to size up the other contestants. That's because there wasn't much size to them.

Not only was there little competition, but also the competitors were all little.

I was pushed next to 12-year-old Ethan, who didn't even come up to my chest.

Next stood his 8-year-old brother, Nolan, who decided to join the contest for a bit of healthy sibling rivalry.

To his left stood 6-year-old David, with a very determined look on his face.

It wasn't clear whether the smallest tot, who looked about 2 or 3, was tossing her hat in the ring or not, because she kept wandering on and off the stage, as toddlers tend to do. I wondered if she could even speak at all yet.

I stood there, 183-cm-tall, towering over my rivals like Goliath, wondering what kind of words David and his little friends were going to sling at me.

I stared into the crowd watching us, wondering what on earth these kids' parents were thinking.

They hadn't seen me get pushed onstage, nor had they heard my polite objections as I was dragged there.