Guest post by Dinu Nesan

I’m a Department of Biology alumnus (B.Sc. ’05, PhD ’13) and occasional lecturer here in the Department, and I was on Jeopardy! earlier this year. I’ll skip the answer/question cliché opening and just tell you this up front: This is a story about dumb luck more than knowledge, reflexes, skill, or anything else. Unless I win the lottery, it was the biggest stroke of luck I’ll ever experience. And yes, by the way, I was told the proper wordmark for the show always contains the exclamation point, never not.

The first step to be on the show is the online test, held yearly each January, meaning those of you who might be interested have a solid 10 months to cram. The test is 50 questions and if you get above a certain score (supposedly 35/50), you may be called for an in-person audition. The show (staff only, no Alex) travels around North America each year. In April, I got an email for a June audition at a Toronto hotel conference room, where about 20 of us wrote a second test, then were brought up in threes to play a mock game, complete with buzzers and a board of questions projected onto a screen. After a dozen questions, they ask you to talk about yourself for a minute. That’s all the time you get to distinguish yourself, and to be honest, I still have no idea what they were looking for. You walk out of the room with a souvenir Jeopardy! pen and earbuds, and are told that everyone is now officially in the contestant pool for the next 18 months. Then you wait.

Before I go on, we’re all scientists, so let’s talk numbers: Over 200,000 people wrote the test last year, about 2,500 got auditions, and maybe 400 will make the show. I’ve been told that the audition selection process is random, not weighted towards higher scores or anything else. That’s the lucky part, as those numbers are pretty daunting. Even at the audition, I went in hoping my ability to speak coherently and crack some jokes would help me stand out, but there were few socially awkward malcontents in my group. I left thinking that at least I’d be better prepared if I ever made it back to the audition stage. Still, 1 in 6 odds of making the show aren’t bad, so I started studying anyways, and I made sure to watch every episode and play along.

I got the call in early October, for a November taping in Los Angeles. I had already been working my way through US History and State Facts, learning about Popes, Best Picture Oscar Movies, and British Royalty, but now it was time to step it up. I had only a month to learn everything about everything. I figured I’d ignore Science and Math, but had to focus on Geography, Art and Artists, Classical Music, and various other social science topics that Jeopardy! loves but aren’t covered in a Waterloo Biology PhD program. I studied for hours each day and made hundreds of index cards on various facts and topics. At the end of my taping I gave my cards away to another contestant, but I wish I’d kept them. I’m already starting to forget my state mottos and Dickens’ synopses.

I flew to Los Angeles the day before the taping, and stayed in the J!-recommended hotel. I holed up in my room the night before to spend quality time with my cards, I felt tense but confident. It reminded me of the night before my thesis defense. In the morning you could spot the contestants waiting for the shuttle to the studio, we all looked nervous and had garment bags with us. They tape five shows a day, so you’re told to bring a couple of changes of clothing in case you win and need to tape again. You arrive early, around 8 am, and for a few hours it’s all contract paperwork and small talk. The staff are amazing, clearly well-versed in bringing tense people out of their shells and easing the jitters. There are 12 contestants invited each day, 10 who will play and 2 alternates who will come back the next day to be on the show. I was surprised at how kind and friendly everyone was - no mind games, no tension, just genuine goodwill and mutual respect. Maybe this was just another bit of luck in my experience, but I made some real friends in the room (and at the hotel bar in the following days).

They select the new contestants minutes before taping, so there’s no time for nerves, just a few deep breaths and a trip to the bathroom. As the shows are taped, the other potential contestants sit with the audience, though we’re instructed not to speak to anyone, especially not our family/friends. We’re all too busy fake buzzing in and whispering answers to ourselves anyways. I was selected for the third game, slated for Wednesday January 8th. From the audience I’d blanked on the Monday show’s Final Jeopardy! (FJ, for insiders) question but would have killed Tuesday’s category about poker hands.

It’s game-time, so let’s switch to a play-by-play. After your name is called, you get your makeup touched up, a mic put on your collar, and then it’s just you, your two competitors, and, before you know it, Alex Trebek is right in front of you. The game is shot in real-time, and during commercial breaks Alex chats with the audience. I spent the time trying to calm my heart rate. At the first commercial break I had the lead, giving me needed confidence that I wasn’t going to embarrass myself, which I kept as I finished Single Jeopardy in first. But the Double Jeopardy board did me no favors, no science and a category about Maine for the returning champion from Massachussetts. The champ found his footing, running the Maine category and taking over the lead. I catch a break (more luck!) as he answers questions incorrectly and gives up his lead, and I hunt the last daily double right as time is about to expire. The only catch: the category is on Thomas Paine and I know maybe 3 things about him. I wimp out and bet $100, because the math says it’s better to have the lead going into FJ then anything else. When the question is revealed, I kick myself, it’s about the French Revolution and I know it immediately. I smile, answer, and bank a meaningless hundred. But at least I hold my fate in my hands. The FJ category is revealed, 2013 Obituaries, and I start trying to remember who died in the past year. During the break I do the betting math to cover second place by a dollar, and then wait. When the clue is revealed, I can only think of one name, Margaret Thatcher, but despite all my studying I am not convinced she’s actually dead. I struggle for an alternate answer, then spend at least ten seconds deciding that I’m okay with Trebek making a smug comment to embarrass me if she’s still alive. I scribble down “Thatcher” and wait. My answer is revealed last, but I already know the outcome and I’m mainly working to hold my poker face. I’m right, and $18001 richer. A fist pump, a big exhalation, and I can finally smile. The sound technician calls me “champ” as he takes off my mic, and it’s about as good a feeling as I can imagine. I was already thinking about challenging Ken Jennings.

Next, they whisk us to the studio cafeteria for lunch. I have no appetite, but eat a salad and try to walk the line between intimidating and cocky with the remaining contestants. I doubt they’re buying it. By the time we get back, my adrenaline is gone and the coffee I chugged isn’t helping. Makeup, mic check, and two new contestants arrive as I’m trying to remember my buzzer timing. I don’t find it, and one of the challengers is on fire. I make some educated guesses that don’t work out, and mispronounce “muchas gracias” to quickly fall into the negative. After Single Jeopardy I was way behind and had to gamble, but I never found my buzzer touch or a Daily Double and I was out of it by the end of the game. I bet $0 and used my FJ answer to shout out my nephew. If you can’t keep winning, you may as well go home to a big hug from an adorable four year old.

I could tell you a lot more about the game itself: how Trebek seems like a nice guy, but that you barely spend any time with him, how the buzzer is harder than you can possibly imagine, how the second I stepped off stage I knew what I’d been doing wrong in the second game and wanted nothing more than another chance to play. Instead, I’ll say that it was a once in a lifetime experience (maybe literally, if the rules don’t change), one that I’ll never forget, and I’ve already added “Jeopardy! Champion” to my CV.