Run over by a ‘Jeopardy!’ juggernaut

Overcoming odds tougher than Harvard admission, I recently fulfilled a long-deferred dream to become a contestant on “Jeopardy!” I auditioned with a game simulation; I competed on a real test with buzzers. I sucked in my stomach, told my funniest stories and oozed intelligence. I was thrilled when called for a show date; I showed up eagerly sporting my lucky red sweater set.

Then I encountered the Ken Jennings juggernaut.

Television viewers now know all about Jennings’ phenomenal run on “Jeopardy!,” where he’s racked up $1 million and counting. But in early March, when I and 11 fellow contestants -- 10 for five shows, plus two alternates -- arrived at Sony Pictures Studios for the tapings, we were clueless. Then we met the returning champion ... of 30-plus shows.

We were stunned. As we struggled to process this information, the contestant coordinator desperately tried to distract us with jokes, dance routines, bouncing off the ceiling, you name it. She and her colleagues showered us with ego-expanding attention: We were fed, hydrated and helpfully ushered through the voluminous disclaimers and contestant information; we were powdered, primped and pumped up. This buildup was exceeded only by the letdown. After each failed attempt to unseat the champ, the losers were discarded like pages of a “Jeopardy!” answer-a-day calendar.

At some point we taped “Hometown Howdies” for local TV stations: “Hi, Santa Barbara. I’m Susan Keller, a game show junkie who just got the ultimate fix: a slot on Jeopardy!” Ultimate fix, indeed. I needed more than recreational drugs; I needed a complete transfusion that day. I had a bad cold and persuaded the contestant coordinator to make me a “local holdover” contestant -- one who could come back later easily.

Then, even knowing about the unstoppable Jennings, I did the unimaginable, the thing I’ve had nightmares about ever since. I went back the next week to face him. My humiliation was broadcast Tuesday night.

By then Ken’s winning streak was five shows longer and my new fellow contestants were more resigned to their fate. An intense “psyching up” effort was attempted, but somehow the phrase “lambs being led to slaughter” hung in the air.

The thing I learned -- other than that I should heed the flight portion of my fight-or-flight response -- is that “Jeopardy!” is more about the buzzer than the brain. I don’t wish to take anything away from Jennings and his astonishing depth and breadth of knowledge about the most random things. But I watched eight shows live in the studio and faced him myself. We challengers also knew that material. Jennings simply has an incredible buzzer technique.

You see, it’s not just that you must wait until host Alex Trebek finishes reading the answer aloud (and all of us finish long before he does); you must wait until an anonymous young man seated at a production table triggers lights around the game board. TV viewers don’t see these, but they indicate to players that the buzzers are now effective. If you buzz in right when Trebek finishes reading, you’re too early; however, if you wait until you actually see the lights, you’re already too late. According to production sources, I spent the first half of my particular episode buzzing early and the second half buzzing late.

By the time we hit Final Jeopardy, I’d answered only four questions. My fellow competitor managed maybe eight.

Jennings, by contrast, on the way to his 35th win that day, was so cosmically in sync with the production assistant flipping the light switch that his timing was unassailable. Along with a hair-trigger finger (he is a computer programmer, after all; think “left click”), this gives him first crack at the easier answers in each category. He develops unstoppable momentum, using knowledge that seems organized by category. Maintaining control of the board, he hits 75% to 80% of the Daily Doubles and accumulates an insurmountable monetary surplus. It doesn’t matter that he’s missed a surprising number of Final Jeopardy questions; he always has a secure winning margin.

For those of you who’ve watched Jennings’ record-breaking run, trust me: The challengers standing there looking like total dunces were indeed pressing their buzzers frantically but getting absolutely nowhere. And that doesn’t even consider the confidence he wields over his quaking, perspiring competitors.

Funny thing is, we hapless contestants left convinced that Jennings’ success would be the demise of “Jeopardy!” “There’s no competition,” we groused in the greenroom. “Viewers will tune out in droves.” Yet it’s reported that the show’s ratings are up almost 30%. (This increase does not include my mother’s bridge group, who vow they won’t watch “that man.” Mother was sworn to secrecy about my appearance, but word must have leaked out.) From this surge in viewership, I have concluded two things: 1) we challengers may not have been so smart after all; and 2) the temptation to watch a train wreck is overwhelming.

If all this sounds like an extended apologia for my disappointing performance, that’s not the case. Actually, mine was a completely humiliating, intensely frustrating and absolutely mind-numbing experience. I’m a family-room “Jeopardy!” champ who’d been encouraged by friends to try out since Art Fleming was host. I got my one and only chance, and I came away with parting gifts.

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Susan Keller is a writer living in Santa Barbara.