Jason, Vijay, and I finally got up there. I went in believing that I could at least rack up a wild card score, and that I'd be happy and have fun. My plan was to be jubilant when introduced, and that went off without a hitch.
There isn't much I can say about the game, but I lived with my bum ear, and focused enough on the game that my head didn't bug me. The rest just whizzed by. I was in the lead for quite a bit, and noticed as the last $800 clue came up that I was $400 behind Vijay, and I could guarantee myself at least a tie for the lead if I got it. Then Jason beat me to it. And as the last clue, worth $400, was revealed, I figured I could tie Vijay. Then Vijay beat me to it. So it goes. The lead wasn't necessary.
I had $14,800, and I had gone in thinking I needed to be in the $12,000-$16,000 range for a wild card. Then I bumped my minimum to $12,225 just in case someone else had the $12,000 plan. And decided I wouldn't let myself fall below $13,000 if I got above it before Final Jeopardy. So with $14,800, I decided it was best to attempt to clear the $16,000 mark, so I wagered $1,225, which was fine because I'd be safely above $13,000 still if I got it wrong.
The clue was revealed, dealing with a state whose rainwater drained to the Pacific, Atlantic, and Hudson Bay. My only strategy was to name a midwest state I thought would have a river that went to New York (I read Hudson Bay and thought Hudson River, a mistake I didn't realize until I told my brother about the game that night).
Jason was in third place, and his response was revealed first. He was right (Montana) and bumped his score up to $11,500 (an amount I worried about). I was wrong with Ohio and fell to $13,575. Vijay, who had been $800 ahead of me, got it wrong, but only wagered $500 and won. He walked out and joined Alex on the stage, and Alex said, "And here are the wild cards, the four high scores among non-winners..." followed by the consternation of the people running the show. Alex was supposed to introduce the four winners of the previous games.
Jason and I remained in suspense as Vijay returned to his podium. (I was afraid that Jason, who could have won with a bigger wager, would fall short with his score. I was more concerned for him than myself, although I let doubt creep in about my score too.) They taped Vijay walking to Alex again, and Alex said, "Vijay will be in the semifinals with this week's other winners..." and the victorious faces introducing themselves appeared on the monitor (this was from when we said our names and hometowns before any of the tapings). And now at the appropriate moment, he introduced the wild cards again. Nick and Dave Belote appeared on the monitor, and then Alex started talking. That was the moment of realization, and then Alex said that Dave's score had been $4,999, and Jason and I knew that we were both through as well. I celebrated, being relieved not only at having done what I came to do, but also at Jason's low wager having turned out well for him.
The worst part of winning the games in my original run was knowing that I was depriving my opponents of their only chance at the same. I think I apologized to more than one person in my moments of victory. There was nothing to apologize for this time; we were all successful, and moving on.
All fifteen contestants gathered on stage to take a group picture with Alex, and yell some stuff for promotional material. As the previous contestants came on stage, it dawned on me that not everyone had been as successful as the trio I was in. Ryan was the first one I remember seeing who I realized hadn't shown up as a winner or a wild card. Then Stephen, Christine, Patrick, Joey, and Regina Robbins. Stephen was in a daze, alluding to what happened to him. (He wagered $16,350 out of $16,400 from a tie for second place on Final Jeopardy, and got it wrong.) I fear I reacted with an exclamation mark and a question mark, and Stephen added, "I don't want to talk about it." The happiest moment of my Jeopardy career was followed by wishing we all could have moved on.
After everything was done on stage, we left the studio. I greeted my cheering cadre and hugged everyone I could. Then I saw 1997 (and onward) Jeopardy champion Bob Harris. I thought he might be there (Christine's Winner's Blog mentioned that he was a friend of hers, and I was hoping he'd be back for her ToC), and had brought my copy of Prisoner of Trebekistan (his book on his Jeopardy experience) and a Sharpie. I accosted him and asked if he could sign my book, and he seemed pretty thrilled about it. I shook his hand and hurried off to the van back to the hotel.
My head hurt again, and I thought I might crash the moment I got into my room. But I didn't. I stayed up, watched Regina's first Jeopardy episode, and ate a big dinner at the hotel restaurant. I ordered more than I could eat, and had half my sandwich boxed up. I went back to my room, showered, shaved, and tried to sleep.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Meeting Contestants, Sitting in Green Room
Tuesday morning I woke up, got dressed, brought an extra shirt, and headed down to the lobby. I was early, but not the first one there. I can't remember who showed up in what order, but I remember the atmosphere: it was like a high school reunion. One where you remember everybody, with the strange detail that you're actually meeting all of them for the first time. I remember Liz Murphy, beyond conversation distance, smiling and waving and saying, "Hi, Stefan!" I said, "Hi, Liz!" back to her. That was the first thing we said to each other. When Ryan Chaffee showed up, I heard him say hello to Stephen Weingarten (who defeated him in December), and I thought he sounded like an evil character greeting his arch-nemesis. (But his voice sounds like that all the time. Maybe he was injecting further evil, or maybe I was just hearing what I wanted to hear.) He asked me if I was nervous, but I felt pretty okay. I was just enjoying the experience.
When we had everybody, we piled into a van. I sat next to Terry Linwood (who looked like the picture of cool in his hat and shiny suit). I can't remember what we all talked about, but it was a pleasant ride.
At the studio, we went into the green room for the usual briefing by Maggie. We were all seasoned professionals, so it didn't go as long as at regular tapings. Therefore we got to ask all sorts of questions, mostly pertaining to our various curiosities. Vijay Balse revealed himself to be as well versed in the little details of Jeopardy history as I was.
I can't remember where it fits into the timeline, but two or three of us at a time went out from the green room onto the stage, where we were interviewed for the website. They also had us force a laugh. (Some of these laugh shots, but thankfully not mine, can be seen in the ToC promo, also on the site.) I may have babbled a bit, but I mostly had good things to say.
When the time came, the first three (Ryan, Liz, and Patrick Tucker) left to play the game. The rest of us were left to watch a movie in the green room, and Talladega Nights was quickly chosen.
Time went by, groups of three left the room, and I was still in there with diminishing company. Talladega Nights ended and Tropic Thunder was started. The lunch break came, and the seven of us remaining (Justin, Christine Valada, Vijay, Joey Beachum, Jason Zollinger, Kevin, and me) had to stay in the green room, eating sandwiches, salad, and fruit. I started realizing that I wasn't fully recovered from being sick, and my early morning and ear weirdness was doing funny things to my head. I tried to relax after Christine, Joey, and Justin were called. I'd be playing against Jason and Vijay in less than an hour.
When we had everybody, we piled into a van. I sat next to Terry Linwood (who looked like the picture of cool in his hat and shiny suit). I can't remember what we all talked about, but it was a pleasant ride.
At the studio, we went into the green room for the usual briefing by Maggie. We were all seasoned professionals, so it didn't go as long as at regular tapings. Therefore we got to ask all sorts of questions, mostly pertaining to our various curiosities. Vijay Balse revealed himself to be as well versed in the little details of Jeopardy history as I was.
I can't remember where it fits into the timeline, but two or three of us at a time went out from the green room onto the stage, where we were interviewed for the website. They also had us force a laugh. (Some of these laugh shots, but thankfully not mine, can be seen in the ToC promo, also on the site.) I may have babbled a bit, but I mostly had good things to say.
When the time came, the first three (Ryan, Liz, and Patrick Tucker) left to play the game. The rest of us were left to watch a movie in the green room, and Talladega Nights was quickly chosen.
Time went by, groups of three left the room, and I was still in there with diminishing company. Talladega Nights ended and Tropic Thunder was started. The lunch break came, and the seven of us remaining (Justin, Christine Valada, Vijay, Joey Beachum, Jason Zollinger, Kevin, and me) had to stay in the green room, eating sandwiches, salad, and fruit. I started realizing that I wasn't fully recovered from being sick, and my early morning and ear weirdness was doing funny things to my head. I tried to relax after Christine, Joey, and Justin were called. I'd be playing against Jason and Vijay in less than an hour.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Further Prologue: Hotel
After going to a clinic the Sunday before the Tournament of Champions taped, and learning that at least my ear wasn't infected (although I had felt pressure in it to the point of pain earlier that day), I packed for the hotel. I was local, but I wanted to enjoy the hotel for as long as Jeopardy had reserved me the room. Sunday through Thursday was the plan, and I was sticking with that.
I didn't know what kind of amenities there would be, so I brought a few things with me. An alarm clock came along, because I knew waking up on time would be paramount. I brought my mp3 player, and because I didn't like the idea of shoving a little speaker into my poor ear (not to mention falling asleep with it there), I brought some small computer speakers as well.
I arrived at the hotel and checked in. I went to my room on the 18th floor, which, due to hotels' convention of not having a 13th, was really the 17th floor. Some have heard about my affinity for the number 17 (in my first two games, my winning totals contained three 17s: $19,917 and $17,017), and I was taking what I could get. I know that if I had been on the floor actually called the 17th, I would have ignored the fact that there was no 13th. As it was, I ignored the fact that two subterranean floors were also counted, even though they went by names and not numbers.
I got to my room, and discovered immediately that not only was there an alarm clock, but it also had a jack for mp3 player input; it plugged right in where headphones go, and I could listen to my music on better speakers than the ones I had! Being in the hotel room made the whole thing real for me. I jumped up and down, leapt onto the bed several times, and ran back and forth between the door and the window (which, by the way, had a little balcony on the outside).
That night and all of Monday, I spent mostly not knowing what to do with myself. I ate a big breakfast at the hotel restaurant Monday morning. While I was sitting at the table, I saw fellow ToC-er Justin Bernbach being led to a table. I think we noticed and recognized each other at the same time. We shook hands and chatted a bit; he asked me if I had studied, and looked surprised when I said I hadn't. He ate at his table, and I stayed at mine and relaxed after deciding I'd had enough of the breakfast buffet, reading poetry and waiting for him to finish so we could talk for a little while longer. He pointed out another ToC contestant, Christine Valada, sitting at another table, but she was reading and we decided not to accost her.
In the afternoon, I took a bus into Beverly Hills and ate at a Chipotle. (A ritzy hotel near Beverly Hills, and I take a bus and eat at a fast food chain. I savor the incongruousness. That's what L.A. is all about.)
I hung around in the lobby some more. I recognized the most recent College Champion, Nick Yozamp, and called his name. I don't know if he had seen me on the show, so I introduced myself to him and his parents. We talked about how exciting it was, and he laughed a lot. Dude's got a perpetual smile on his face.
I did a lot of going up to my room, going back down to the lobby, exploring the grounds, and engaging in general aimlessness. I wanted to meet more champs, but talking to Justin and Nick, having a brief glimpse of Christine, and recognizing three-time champ and alternate Kevin Joyce (with enough uncertainty that I didn't attempt to talk to him) was all I got that day.
I watched that night's Jeopardy in my room (playing along, as had been my routine for about a year and a half at that point—and doing quite well, I might add), went back down to the hotel restaurant and had a good dinner, then went up to my room, showered, ordered a wake-up call, and tried my best to go to sleep (it seemed that whenever I was doing nothing, I would be seized with fits of coughing).
I didn't know what kind of amenities there would be, so I brought a few things with me. An alarm clock came along, because I knew waking up on time would be paramount. I brought my mp3 player, and because I didn't like the idea of shoving a little speaker into my poor ear (not to mention falling asleep with it there), I brought some small computer speakers as well.
I arrived at the hotel and checked in. I went to my room on the 18th floor, which, due to hotels' convention of not having a 13th, was really the 17th floor. Some have heard about my affinity for the number 17 (in my first two games, my winning totals contained three 17s: $19,917 and $17,017), and I was taking what I could get. I know that if I had been on the floor actually called the 17th, I would have ignored the fact that there was no 13th. As it was, I ignored the fact that two subterranean floors were also counted, even though they went by names and not numbers.
I got to my room, and discovered immediately that not only was there an alarm clock, but it also had a jack for mp3 player input; it plugged right in where headphones go, and I could listen to my music on better speakers than the ones I had! Being in the hotel room made the whole thing real for me. I jumped up and down, leapt onto the bed several times, and ran back and forth between the door and the window (which, by the way, had a little balcony on the outside).
That night and all of Monday, I spent mostly not knowing what to do with myself. I ate a big breakfast at the hotel restaurant Monday morning. While I was sitting at the table, I saw fellow ToC-er Justin Bernbach being led to a table. I think we noticed and recognized each other at the same time. We shook hands and chatted a bit; he asked me if I had studied, and looked surprised when I said I hadn't. He ate at his table, and I stayed at mine and relaxed after deciding I'd had enough of the breakfast buffet, reading poetry and waiting for him to finish so we could talk for a little while longer. He pointed out another ToC contestant, Christine Valada, sitting at another table, but she was reading and we decided not to accost her.
In the afternoon, I took a bus into Beverly Hills and ate at a Chipotle. (A ritzy hotel near Beverly Hills, and I take a bus and eat at a fast food chain. I savor the incongruousness. That's what L.A. is all about.)
I hung around in the lobby some more. I recognized the most recent College Champion, Nick Yozamp, and called his name. I don't know if he had seen me on the show, so I introduced myself to him and his parents. We talked about how exciting it was, and he laughed a lot. Dude's got a perpetual smile on his face.
I did a lot of going up to my room, going back down to the lobby, exploring the grounds, and engaging in general aimlessness. I wanted to meet more champs, but talking to Justin and Nick, having a brief glimpse of Christine, and recognizing three-time champ and alternate Kevin Joyce (with enough uncertainty that I didn't attempt to talk to him) was all I got that day.
I watched that night's Jeopardy in my room (playing along, as had been my routine for about a year and a half at that point—and doing quite well, I might add), went back down to the hotel restaurant and had a good dinner, then went up to my room, showered, ordered a wake-up call, and tried my best to go to sleep (it seemed that whenever I was doing nothing, I would be seized with fits of coughing).
Epilogue/Prologue
After I lost on Jeopardy, I was unhappy about it. I thought maybe I could channel that unhappiness into something better, perhaps by throwing myself into studying for the Tournament of Champions I felt I'd inevitably be invited to. I got a five subject notebook, and I was sure I'd fill it with anything and everything I thought of or noticed around me that I felt would be useful on the show. And when I was told my job would be ending in two weeks the Friday after my losing show aired, I was glad to have tons of time to fill it.
All I ever wrote in it was a handful of subjects I thought would be good to study, and Gold, Sword, Juno, Omaha, and Utah. And on the last page months later, when I started working again, some bus times.
I got called near the end of February (in fact, on the anniversary of when they first called me last year), and learned I was indeed invited to compete in the ToC. My time had wound down, and I decided that since I hadn't studied at all, this was no time to start. I became determined to have as much fun as possible with the whole experience, and to just let it happen.
Two Saturdays before the taping, my family had a St. Patrick's Day party. We ended up leaving my aunt's house late. I didn't tell anyone, but I had hoped to get to work Sunday morning; I had called myself a "maybe" for overtime work that day (I originally gave a categorical "no," but changed my tune when I got scoffed at by my supervisor), and I made sure to get up really early so I might get over there for 8:30. (This happened to be the Sunday morning that clocks were set forward.) I awoke miserable, realized that there was no way I could get to work on time with Sunday morning buses, and gave up, but I didn't go back to bed.
After surviving that day tired, I didn't think much about it until that Tuesday night. At choir practice, I sang in falsetto at a part that our director encouraged the men to sing with the altos, and discovered a rasp to my head voice. By the end of that night, my throat hurt.
I felt worse on Wednesday, and worse on Thursday. I was better on Friday and Saturday.
(Speaking of Friday, something else that was nice that day was getting Chinese food. In my fortune cookie was this slip of paper:
I put it in my wallet, and it's been there almost continuously since.)
And then I woke up Sunday hardly able to hear in my right ear. This would last for weeks, and the taping was two days away.
All I ever wrote in it was a handful of subjects I thought would be good to study, and Gold, Sword, Juno, Omaha, and Utah. And on the last page months later, when I started working again, some bus times.
I got called near the end of February (in fact, on the anniversary of when they first called me last year), and learned I was indeed invited to compete in the ToC. My time had wound down, and I decided that since I hadn't studied at all, this was no time to start. I became determined to have as much fun as possible with the whole experience, and to just let it happen.
Two Saturdays before the taping, my family had a St. Patrick's Day party. We ended up leaving my aunt's house late. I didn't tell anyone, but I had hoped to get to work Sunday morning; I had called myself a "maybe" for overtime work that day (I originally gave a categorical "no," but changed my tune when I got scoffed at by my supervisor), and I made sure to get up really early so I might get over there for 8:30. (This happened to be the Sunday morning that clocks were set forward.) I awoke miserable, realized that there was no way I could get to work on time with Sunday morning buses, and gave up, but I didn't go back to bed.
After surviving that day tired, I didn't think much about it until that Tuesday night. At choir practice, I sang in falsetto at a part that our director encouraged the men to sing with the altos, and discovered a rasp to my head voice. By the end of that night, my throat hurt.
I felt worse on Wednesday, and worse on Thursday. I was better on Friday and Saturday.
(Speaking of Friday, something else that was nice that day was getting Chinese food. In my fortune cookie was this slip of paper:
I put it in my wallet, and it's been there almost continuously since.)
And then I woke up Sunday hardly able to hear in my right ear. This would last for weeks, and the taping was two days away.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Suddenly
I'm the Jeopardy guy now. I thought I could win on the show, but I wasn't prepared for two runaway games right out of the gate. Everything's going nuts. It's exciting and overwhelming.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
TRB RIP
I take a bus south on the 405, through the Sepulveda pass, to get to work. On the uphill portion of the pass, the ground surrounds the freeway as it occupies the lower portion between hills. I started noticing across the road, on the hill by the shoulder of the northbound side, a white cross. I saw numbers and letters, among which were "RIP."
It was always just a little bit too far for me to see clearly, plus the motion of the bus meant I only had a matter of seconds to see it at all. But it was in my mind whenever I noticed it that I should make note of the numbers (likely birth and death dates).
Eventually I would write the digits down. I got them slightly wrong the first time around, but took another look a day or two later, and fixed my error. When I was at work and thought about it, I punched the birth date and the death month (it didn't allow for exact death date entry) into a searchable Social Security death index online. It turned up several people, but only one whose death date matched the one from the cross. And he was the only one who had died in California.
I searched Google with this name, and found a news posting. He crashed his motorcycle into a truck one afternoon late last summer, and died on the northbound 405.
I'm posting about this because the cross has been removed; I first noticed its absence a few weeks ago. As I was writing this, I stopped to think if I could remember the numbers. As I brought them to the front of my mind, I realized that today is his birthday, the first since his death. The little marker by the 405 is gone, but I still remember Thomas Brough, although I never knew him.
It was always just a little bit too far for me to see clearly, plus the motion of the bus meant I only had a matter of seconds to see it at all. But it was in my mind whenever I noticed it that I should make note of the numbers (likely birth and death dates).
Eventually I would write the digits down. I got them slightly wrong the first time around, but took another look a day or two later, and fixed my error. When I was at work and thought about it, I punched the birth date and the death month (it didn't allow for exact death date entry) into a searchable Social Security death index online. It turned up several people, but only one whose death date matched the one from the cross. And he was the only one who had died in California.
I searched Google with this name, and found a news posting. He crashed his motorcycle into a truck one afternoon late last summer, and died on the northbound 405.
I'm posting about this because the cross has been removed; I first noticed its absence a few weeks ago. As I was writing this, I stopped to think if I could remember the numbers. As I brought them to the front of my mind, I realized that today is his birthday, the first since his death. The little marker by the 405 is gone, but I still remember Thomas Brough, although I never knew him.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Comeback
It's been a long time since my last appearance. Not that it particularly matters, since I still have yet to tell anyone about this, but 7 months of silence after 10 days of activity is pretty extreme.
I grew my facial hair through September and October, then shaved all but my beard off and put on some oversized Goodwill clothes so I could be Shaggy from Scooby-Doo for Halloween. I don't think I'll be growing out my face again. It was neat to look different for a while, but I prefer the bare-faced thing.
Still doing the night thing, still traveling by bus to get there, but I discovered that a specific set of routes, suggested by the city's public transit web site, which I dismissed as having too much extra distance, was actually the better choice for travel time. I'm learning not to think like a walker/bike rider in planning how I travel via non-foot/bike means. It turns out that a little bit of easterly movement at the start of my generally south-southwest travel helps me avoid my previously described frustration most of the time.
I had a big day outside of work last week. I can't talk about it much at the moment (it'll be months before I can; see you in the summer), but I exceeded my expectations in a challenging situation. Much like I've done with some karaoke or open mike performances, I look back and find it hard to imagine that it was me.
I grew my facial hair through September and October, then shaved all but my beard off and put on some oversized Goodwill clothes so I could be Shaggy from Scooby-Doo for Halloween. I don't think I'll be growing out my face again. It was neat to look different for a while, but I prefer the bare-faced thing.
Still doing the night thing, still traveling by bus to get there, but I discovered that a specific set of routes, suggested by the city's public transit web site, which I dismissed as having too much extra distance, was actually the better choice for travel time. I'm learning not to think like a walker/bike rider in planning how I travel via non-foot/bike means. It turns out that a little bit of easterly movement at the start of my generally south-southwest travel helps me avoid my previously described frustration most of the time.
I had a big day outside of work last week. I can't talk about it much at the moment (it'll be months before I can; see you in the summer), but I exceeded my expectations in a challenging situation. Much like I've done with some karaoke or open mike performances, I look back and find it hard to imagine that it was me.
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