What it's like to be on JEOPARDY! Round 1

It's so cool to have a friend actually be a contestant on JEOPARDY!  A few weeks ago a San Diego buddy, Jeff Lasky was on the show.  I asked if he'd graciously agree to be a guest blogger and recount his experience.  Jeff said yes and did such a great job that I don't want to edit a word.  So I'm presenting this as a two-parter; part 1 today and part 2 tomorrow.   I'm an avid JEOPARDY! watcher and I've attended the taping of JEOPARDY! episodes and there were still a lot of things in Jeff's piece that I didn't know.  So a big thank you to Jeff Lasky.  certainly an all-time JEOPARDY champion on this blog.  And Jeff, your dollar is the mail. 

I feel really honored that Ken asked me to write a guest blog about my experience as a contestant on Jeopardy! When I think of the incredible list of guest bloggers Ken has had over the years, I really feel like I don’t belong. Which, some could say, also applied to my appearance on Jeopardy! Although at least the $1 I finished with on the show is more than what Ken is paying me to do this.

Being on Jeopardy! is an intense experience. The show itself goes by in a blur, but the shooting day is a long one. They do five episodes in a day, the Monday through Friday show all in just a few hours. They do this two days a week during only two weeks each month. Usually the episodes shoot about two months before they air. So when Alex is wishing you a Merry Christmas, it isn’t even Halloween yet (not that that’s stopped Costco from putting out their holiday decorations for sale). The day begins when a shuttle bus arrives at the hotel to pick you up at 7 AM. By the way, contestants pay for the hotel. The only one who gets expenses paid is the defending champion. The producers call this the Ken Jennings rule. You don’t get your prize money until 120 days after the show and he was going broke flying himself from Utah to Los Angeles every few weeks during his unprecedented run. That’s why Sony started ponying up for the champ’s travel expenses.

Once you arrive at Sony Pictures Studios in Culver City, you’re ushered into the green room. All 16-17 contestants (15 who will appear on the show that day and one or two alternates in case someone gets sick or doesn’t show) sit at tables or on sofas to fill out paperwork. One of the contestant coordinators goes to each person to make sure they know how your name is pronounced. She also goes over your interview with Alex. The coordinators put three stories on a card and Alex chooses which to ask about.

Legendary Jeopardy! producer Maggie Speak then does orientation, which lasts an hour. She walks you through the process, explains how everything works, and answers whatever questions you might have. She also spills some great behind the scenes stories- it’s a pretty amazing performance, which I got to hear twice because I had previously been an alternate. Each contestant also goes through makeup. During this whole time, some contestants are mingling a bit, others are silent. Everyone is probably checking out the competition, although they were all nice- seemingly no gamesmanship.

At this point everyone is paraded out to the set. We’ve all seen it a million times on television, but there’s still something magical about seeing it in person. What struck me was how big the board looks when it’s in front of you, which it needs to be because the clues have to be big enough to read. Before we get a chance to play, pictures need to be taken and each player does a little video called the “hometown howdy”, which will be sent to you to post on social media. Everyone then gathers around the podiums while the floor manager explains the set-up. That includes how to write your name, how to put in your bid and answer for Final Jeopardy (there’s a piece of paper and a marker just in case the screen fails during the show), and the elevator. What? Yes, each podium has a little elevator behind it that can lift up shorter people so that everyone looks the same height. But the most important part of the set-up you’re shown is the buzzer. They actually never refer to it as the buzzer because, duh, it doesn’t buzz. They call it the signaling device. I still call it the buzzer. It’s a little thicker than I had imagined, about the length of a pen. As soon as Alex reads the question, a production assistant flips a switch. A light which runs around the entire game board flicks on, although the camera shot is framed in a way so that you can’t see it at home. Once the light appears, you can buzz in. However, if you hit it too early, you get locked out for a quarter of a second. It doesn’t seem like much, but everyone is so smart, that will almost always allow one of the other players to get in. Of course, wait too long, and they’ll beat you anyway. So the key is timing, trying to figure out that sweet spot between when Alex stops talking and when you see the light go on. The producers tell you to keep buzzing until someone is called on. After all, maybe all three buzzed too early and got locked out, so you want to be the first one in after the quarter-second is up.

Once all the explanations are over, there’s a rehearsal. We’re called up to the stage three at a time to play just like they do on the show. Jimmy McGuire from the Clue Crew hosts. Once the producers think you’ve gotten a feel for the buzzer, they pull you out and put another player in. By the end of the rehearsal, the studio audience is arriving. We’re all rushed back to the green room with the strict admonishment that we’re not to have any contact, verbal or visual, with our guests in the crowd. This is near impossible, so no one yelled at me for smiling at my wife. Once back in the green room, the producers reveal who will play in the first game against the returning champion. No one, aside from the champ, knows when they’re going to play until it’s announced before each game. Another interesting note- the producers don’t pick. There is a third-party law firm hired to keep everything on the up and up. This all stems from the quiz show scandals of the 1950’s. I guess this prevents any of us from becoming the next Charles Van Doren, although I’ll admit I’m more likely to be compared to Herb Stempel. The lawyer chooses which set of categories and questions go with which show and which contestants will play each game. Security is so tight; contestants are not allowed to leave sight of the coordinators. You need to be escorted to the restroom and you’re kept far away from anyone else involved in the game. This means the only moments you spend with Alex Trebek are the ones on stage during the show.

To be continued tomorrow.