In it to win it?

25Jan09

It was primarily the promising lure of a ’substantial cash prize’ that prompted me to dial the telephone number that would lead me to being auditioned for a new television quiz show. I saw the advertisement in a national newspaper just before Christmas at a time when I was wondering how I could get my mortgage paid off closer to my next birthday rather than the projected target of my 63rd – which is some years away, I hasten to add.

Well, why not? After all, I like quizzes. I enjoy general knowledge crosswords, Trivial Pursuit and the Who Wants to be a Millionaire machine when I occasionally go into a pub. I know I am pretty good on some subjects – art, music, films, literature – and abominable in others – sport, astronomy, science, ancient mythology. I am not a particularly good loser, which I suppose implies a competitive streak of sorts.

So early last week when the phone rang, it turned out to be a charming researcher from this new show asking me if I would like to answer some questions. She would not tell me whether I had got them right or wrong but she did say at the end of the twenty or so questions that I had done well. Would I like to come for an audition on Friday? Sure. Why not? I am always game for a new experience.

It wasn’t until Friday came and I arrived at the television studio that it hit me what I was letting myself in for. In the small reception area sat an interesting array of people – ranging in age from mid-30s to early 60s. They were also auditioning.

“You look familiar,” the researcher said to one of them.
“People think I look like Omid Djalili,” said the budding contestant.
“I know Omid Djalili,” I told him. “You don’t.” How to lose friends and alienate people, example one.

As we spoke and got to know each other a bit better, what surprised me was these people’s passion for quiz shows. They had all been on other shows in the past. One even made it into the semi-final of Mastermind. One hadn’t wanted to be on this show at all – he wanted to be on In It to Win It (which I have never heard of) and his son had put him in for the wrong programme. Others were veterans of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Fifteen to One, Going for Gold. All were keen members of local pub quiz teams. “I don’t watch TV,” I almost thought aloud, “I don’t even have a set.” Example two. I have rarely felt so out of place.

“Think of words that describe yourself” said the researcher.
“Gregarious!” said one hopeful contender.
“Egregious!” said another.
“Erm, a loyal friend,” quoth I quietly.
I heard the sound of rain outside, the wind blowing, the unspoken judgement of pregnant silence. Example three.
“Focussed – which means headstrong,” said the next, moving swiftly on.

The audition lasted two hours during which we were put through a range of activities and quiz rounds. Everything was filmed. I was conscious that someone, somewhere was going to be looking at me in a darkened edit suite, deciding if I would make a good contestant. I would be barely glimpsed in fast forward – 43 years of life experience reduced to a juddering blip in someone’s consciousness.

The first game we played was word association.
“Egypt,” said our host.
“Pyramid!” cut in the first contestant.
“Nile” responded the next.
“Valley” said the woman next to me.
My turn. Simple word association. Easy.
“Valley,” she had said. A word lingered just outside of my consciousness. I knew what I wanted to say but in the pressure of the moment it escaped me. “Latrine?” I thought to myself. It can’t be. That’s not it. Something like latrine…but it was gone. I had wanted to say ravine and it had eluded me in the first test of my potential suitability for small screen stardom.
“Erm, mountain,” I finally blurted out knowing the delay had made me look like the tortoise on sports day at the Academy of Hare Racing. Example four.

The rest of the audition unfolded in a reasonably less uncomfortable manner but I still had problems with speed. I knew a lot of the answers but the other competitors were faster on their buzzers.

“How do these people see me?” I thought to myself. Someone a bit shy, reserved, out of their depth, slow off the mark? It struck me how differently one thought one could be perceived out of one’s usual environments.

Feeling the need for an energy-boosting packet of Minstrels for the first time in my adult life, I bumped into one of the ladies who had also been auditioning, in the railway station café.
“I don’t want to go through that again,” I said.
“So it was your first time,” she nodded knowingly, as if I had just emerged from a honeymoon suite. “I thought you did well.”

Then mild panic hit.

I am not sure if I now want to take part in the show, even if I successfully get through. I don’t think I would ever live down the humiliation of saying something stupid on national daytime television. My day out had opened my eyes to a world which until that moment had never been in my consciousness let alone my experience – the world of the addictive quiz show contestant, hungry for fame and family fortune. There’s a TV series or novel in that in its own right, or at least at this point, a blog entry. I’ll keep you posted if I ever get round to playing for the Big Money.

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Tags: contestants, quiz show