We came to Boston for the College Jeopardy tryouts. Students came from around the Northeast, striving to become the next Ken Jennings, the baby-faced Jeopardy juggernaut who won 74 straight contests in 2004. The Sheraton, a swanky hotel with soft red carpets and sparkling marble countertops, was hosting the tryouts. The hotel was fully booked because of the large yoga festival that was also taking place, so I stayed at the equally plush Marriott down the street.
The written test was set to begin at 9 a.m. I woke up at 8:45 to the phone blasting on the nightstand and was greeted by the monotone of the wake-up call service, “Good morning. This is your wakeup call for July 10. It is 8:45. The forecast for today is…” As I slipped out of bed, I reached for the receiver and tried to hang it up, but instead bumped it onto the floor.
The voice on the line was happier now, “It’s going to be a great day in Boston today!” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I shoved the phone under the nightstand, but it kept on yakking, so I kicked it under the bed to shut it up. I threw on a pair of shorts and a rumpled polo shirt. I walked over to the mirror, adjusting my bed head until it looked presentable, and staggered out the door.
When I got to the conference room just before nine, there were about 80 or so other half-awake students fumbling through their pockets and staring at their shoes. I slouched against a pillar and started to doze off when the coordinator hurled open the doors. “Hi there, kids! You can come on in now,” the lady shouted from inside the room.
I happened to be right next to the door, so I stumbled inside before everyone else, walked to the nearest table and plopped onto a chair. All the other students followed behind me, shuffling into the room and sitting at one of the other tables. Once everyone sat down, the coordinator started talking to the group.
“Are you all excited?!” she screeched. “We’re going to give you a 50-question written test and then we’ll quickly grade the tests. If you’re one of the high scorers, we’ll interview you for the show. Do you have any questions?” Most people were too dazed to answer or even care.
The coordinators began the test, which consisted of questions flashed onto a screen and read by Trebeck’s recorded voice. The first question read “This basketball player for the Chicago Bulls won six NBA titles from 1990-1998.” Come on, Alex, I can do these in my sleep.
Or maybe not. There were plenty of head-scratchers. “This famous museum in Denmark houses the Tollund Man and the Elling Woman,” one of the questions read. Uh … I left that one blank. Another question read, “This legendary creature is believed to reside near the town of Drumnadochit in Europe.” Another blank.
Once the test was over, I looked at my answer sheet and found more than half of the spaces were blank. I felt more dazed than when I came in. After the tests were graded, the coordinator announced the eight winners, carelessly forgetting to mention my name. While I was drifting out the door, I was assaulted by one of the winners, a dude wearing gray pants, a white oxford shirt and an ugly blue tie with Trebeck’s massive head plastered on the front.
“What did you think of the test? Did you get the one about Drumnadochit?!” he asked, shoving his face into mine and smiling like a jackass.
“Well, I-”
“Great!” He cut me off, “It was the Loch Ness monster! Drumnadochit is a town in Scotland near the monster.”
“Really? I didn’t know-”
“Yeah! You see, Jeopardy isn’t so bad. You just have to know a little bit of everything.”
I guess you could see it that way. But it sure sounds like a whole lot of nothing to me. I just staggered home to the Marriott and went back to bed.
