I consider myself a very humble man. I am self-deprecating to a fault. I likely always sell myself short. My parents raised with me with their particular Midwestern style of humility, especially my mother.
But, there is one thing I believe most sincerely: that I almost assuredly know more trivia than you. It will not be in every subject and every time, but most of the time, I will know the answer to some trivia question before you do.
And very frequently people will say to me, usually after doing something like rattling off the names of all the British Prime Ministers of the 20th Century (and most of them from the 19th Century) or the capital of a country that you didn't even know existed, or telling you that the frozen pellet coming out of the sky is not hail and not snow, but very likely graupel, someone will say to me, "You should go on Jeopardy."1
I used to reply, "I've tried, but I didn't make it." And now I just don't answer and hope no one asks me why. Except I will say why now.
The simple answer I would give is: I am getting older. I am 57 years old now. And while I know a lot more stuff than when I was say, 21 years old, I am much slower to be able to recall it. It might not appear to someone observing me that it is taking longer, but I can detect the difference. I suppose I could practice over and over to get my reaction time up. And rig up some sort of home buzzer system to also practice with, but do I really want to do that?
There are some other reasons. One of them is that a LOT of people want to get on Jeopardy and there are very few people chosen in one season. It is almost like trying to make it to one of the top professional sports leagues. Except that with Jeopardy, people do not age out of the game that quickly. People can keep trying out for years and years. The pool of possible contestants always gets bigger. And the game is even more popular now.
Here is how you get on the show.
You take an online test. This used to be offered at specific times, but now you can take it anytime, but I believe only once a year. The test is not, in my opinion, all that hard. You never find out what your score is. But, if it is high enough you move on to.
The audition. Jeopardy’s production team takes people who score above a particular number and invite them to an audition. These used to be done either at the Doubletree Hotel in Culver City (which is now called The Hilton - Culver City Los Angeles and no longer gives out free cookies) or at regional auditions throughout the country. Since I live in Southern California, I had two auditions in Culver City. After COVID, the auditions changed to Zoom. At the audition, you are given another test, which is a bit harder, and then you play a mock game, although they let everyone there answer something to see how people react. (They prefer contestants to keep the game moving and use as few words possible to pick a category. So just say “Citrus Fruits for $200” not “I think I’ll take Citrus Fruits for $200.”)
There is one other aspect to this: an interview. Since Jeopardy is a TV show, they like to have people on the show who are interesting in that medium. There is a certain Goldilocks level of enthusiasm that they want you to demonstrate. And whatever that level is, I’ve never found it. You do not want to look like you are going to be on “The Price is Right,” but you also cannot look like you are about to report to jury duty. Auditioning on Zoom is only harder for me even though I have the comfort of being in my own home. Perhaps I should have taken intensive classes in learning how to smile better.
You also need to have something in your personal background that stands out a little bit or separates you from the rest of the people in the room. At my first audition, back in 2015, I played a mock game with two other people. One contestant was a rabbinical student who wanted to use the earnings from Jeopardy to help finish their transition. The other person was a recent breast cancer survivor, who was also a librarian, but was moving on to a job helping other cancer patients. (She got on the show within a couple weeks of her audition. I never saw anyone else from that room on the show.) And I was a guy who talked about wanting to get money to go see a mediocre English soccer team play in person.2
After you are done, you go into the contesant pool for 18 months and you wait for a call or email or some sign that the show wants you. I put a reminder into my phone calendar when the 18 months was up to tell me that the process was over. And that has happened three times in the past seven years.
Then you can start the whole process over again!
If you get on the show, you usually get just one shot, although this year, a “second chance tournament” was set up for players who scored well during a game, but came up short, usually because they were facing one of the now common “superchampions” that the game features.
I could be a person who shows great determination and keeps at this as my life’s work. But, I really don’t want to. I know who I am by this point in life. I could appear on television for about 22 minutes and try to appear that I know a lot, but do I need to. Winning a lot of money would be nice, but it’s far more likely that the most I would get would be the 2nd or 3rd place payouts of $2000 and $1000.3 Although winning on Jeopardy is something that people will remember you by. My brother Jim appeared on the show in its first season under Alex Trebek and tied for first on one show on January 23, 1985. We mentioned in Jim’s obituary that he was a former Jeopardy champion and people were EXTREMELY impressed by this, although I thought he was impressive for a lot of other reasons.
Now, I almost never watch the show. I used to plan my night around it. I would study Final Jeopardy betting strategies and just wonder how many librarians Jeopardy would use in a season. (Answer: A lot. Librarians tend to be good at stuff like this.)
But after many years, I have just given up on watching. I am not bitter that I never appeared on the show. I just have decided that I want to do something else with 30 minutes each night. I would say that I am doing something wonderfully productive, but it’s more likely that I am just using that time to do the New York Times Spelling Bee puzzle.
The internet is taking a long time to unlearn that I do not watch Jeopardy as my social media feeds are loaded with Jeopardy info. One day I will be able to look at social media without asking me to decide between Ken Jennings and Mayim Bialik, aka the World’s Oddest Choice of Options.
I know that there is a local restaurant that has a trivia contest on Sundays. And if I remember to go there when they’re having the contest, I will grab an answer sheet and a pencil, and I will go at it. And I will want to win. And if you happen to be on my team and I say that I know something is right and you disagree and put down a different answer, you will have developed a very powerful enemy in me in this field. Because when I KNOW I am right, I do not make that assertion lightly. So please, just let me fill out the answer sheet.
The official name of the show is “Jeopardy!” which either means you have to be excited to say it or maybe they are waiting for a category which is effectively Jeopardy factorial.
I ended up doing that anyway and it will be a story for a future post.
The losers don’t get the totals they end up with on the show to prevent people from just playing very conservatively and not wanting to lose any more money once the player in first has a big lead.
Be thankful you are an aging trivia player and not an aging gun fighter.
And be thankful you don't support a team that blows a 2-0 lead at home to lose 5-2 to some Spanish club.