In one of my earlier columns this semester, I may have mentioned a certain fondness for competition. It should, therefore, come as little surprise that in late January, I was among 70,000 intrepid know-it-alls who subjected themselves to the "Jeopardy!" Online Test. What I didn't expect was being one of the 3,000 whose scores landed them an invitation to an in-person interview.
This week, instead of discussing the television I'm watching, I thought I'd give you a play-by-play of my own recent attempt to make it onto the silver screen.
8:35 a.m.: Making my way through the stately Capitol Hilton in downtown Washington, D.C., I encounter a queue of business casual cardigans and sports jackets on the second floor. I sign in and size up my competition. To say that this group is heavily White and middle-aged would be an understatement. Many people seem to be trying not to disclose specific jobs, degrees and almae matres, whether out of decorum or fear of revealing potential strengths. Maybe I should've applied when I was eligible for the College Championship.
8:45 a.m.: A hush descends. “Another Jackson," a well-dressed man mutters furiously. I Google surreptitiously: Matt Jackson, D.C. native, fourth-longest winning streak (13 episodes) in "Jeopardy!" (1964 - present) history, infamous creepy smile. Got it. His brother David seems to be something of a celebrity by association. I watch a TV crew descend upon the diminutive man and pepper him with questions. The rest of us look on, part-envious, part-wary and part-intrigued — no one wants to go head-to-head against a potential champion, but everyone wants to watch him play.
8:49 a.m.: I make several awkward attempts to initiate conversation. Most of us are east coasters, ranging from couch contestants like me to zealots who've taken the initial qualifying test as many as 10 times. One man bemusedly informs me that he's not a fan, that he just took the test on a whim. (I wonder if this is the truth or merely a story designed to lower expectations.)
9:00 a.m.: The staff split us between conference rooms. The audition is officially underway. We sit through a welcome speech, the gist of which is: don't panic, don't cheat and don't be disappointed. Only 400 contestants appear on "Jeopardy!" each year, and even the best performance today can't guarantee you'll be on the show. We are encouraged to keep trying if this year doesn't work out — after all, they say, any of us could be the next Ken Jennings. (Over the course of the morning, we will be told several times that if we don't know who Ken Jennings is, we can show ourselves out.)
9:15 a.m.: Our second test. Similar to the online qualifier, we're asked 50 questions from various categories. Having never taken art history classes, I'm thrown off by the rigid timing and relentless advance of the projector and resort to making hasty notes for the ones I'm stuck on.
9:30 a.m.: Time’s up. We anxiously compare answers — "What did you say for this? Do you think they'll accept this spelling?" The score cutoff is secret (supposedly to prevent contestants from comparing theirs before taping), but a repeat auditioner speculates it’s around 35 correct answers. I didn't do myself any favors by leaving a couple questions completely blank, but I'm not feeling totally hopeless.
9:45 a.m.: Screen tests. In groups of three, we play sample scoreless rounds.Buzzer strategy is crucial to success on the show: buzz in too early, and you'll be locked out; too late, and you'll never get on the board. I do alright, but I botch one grammar-related question and feel like shark chum. When only one person's left, I’m selected to go up again and try to redeem myself.
In practice interviews, we're told to be upbeat, energetic, charismatic and if all else fails, to go with "That's right, Alex." I discuss being duct-taped to a wall (true) and my plans to use the prize money to bribe my graduate school admissions committees (false).
11:30 a.m.: Armed with "Jeopardy!"-issue earbuds and ballpoint pens (so we can keep practicing buzzer timing at home!), we are released back into the real world. Our files are all officially in the active pool, meaning that we may be called to Los Angeles for taping at any time in the next 18 months. This is to say: I passed the audition, which may or may not get me on the show? Uncertainly triumphant, I head for the Metro.
My usual rubric isn't quite applicable here. Instead, here's a full round's worth of "Jeopardy!" categories I could safely take on: The Clexa Fandom, Fruits and Vegetables, Mario Kart Wii, Asian American History, Netflix Original Programming and the "Mahabharata." Keep me in your thoughts.
What are “pipe dreams?"
