This column originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune Feb. 6, 2018
It finally happened. Alex Trebek snapped.
As a longtime Jeopardy fan, among the thousands of avid watchers convinced they could win fortunes on the show but too intimidated to apply as contestants, I’d been predicting a meltdown for years. The seemingly unflappable Trebek, however, has kept his cool for well over three decades of reading “answers” to thousands of contestants and one IBM computer, never once throwing his cards at the game board in disgust.
But Trebek’s visage showed signs of cracking during a recent, now viral, episode in which the three players failed to press their buzzers ONCE during the category, “Talkin’ Football.” The trio could not even connect legendary coach Tom Landry with the Dallas Cowboys , the dynasty Landry created. A correct response would have netted $400.
By the time Trebek reached the final answer on the board, he could take it no more.
“Let’s look at the $1,000 clue, just for the fun of it,” said Trebek, his silky voice dripping with sarcasm. He added, “If you guys ring in and get this one, I will die.”
To no one’s surprise, nobody knew the Minnesota Vikings ‘ vaunted defense of the 1960s and ’70s was dubbed “The Purple People Eaters.”
I’ve always wondered how game show hosts can remain so emotionless as they face off against, on first appearance, intelligent contestants who subsequently fumble with basic facts or, in the case of Wheel of Fortune players, call out letters that have already been revealed. While Pat Sajak calmly moves on to the next contestant, professional letter turner Vanna White smiles and continues her $8-million-a-year cheerleading routine. For all we know, both hosts return to their dressing rooms following each show, pass a whiskey bottle back and forth, and threaten to update their LinkedIn profiles to include the phrase, “Actively seeking new opportunities.”
Even The Price is Right host Drew Carey remained even-keeled during a 2008 episode when contestant Terry Kniess made a perfect Showcase bid of $23,743. Carey attributed his lack of enthusiasm to fear that Kniess had somehow cheated, compromising the show’s integrity in the process. Turns out, Kniess was simply a Price is Right junkie and had memorized the prices of items that often appeared in showcases. At the very least, Carey should have complimented Kniess for his ability to retain such useless information as the suggested retail price of a trailer hitch.
There are growing signs that contestants will no longer receive sympathy from hosts. Ellen’s Game of Games (hosted by Ellen DeGeneres) includes a trap door feature, swallowing contestants who fail to come up with correct answers. Activated by DeGeneres herself, she looks positively giddy when contestants disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. Alex Trebek is probably watching and wondering, “How fast can we get one of those?”
Here are a few more extreme suggestions for dimwitted game show participants.
When Wheel of Fortune contestants ask to buy vowels and, instead, yell for consonants — yep, that’s happened — Sajak should turn sinister. Rather than gently schooling the offender in basic grammar, as he is prone to do, administer a quick electric shock the next time the contestant spins the wheel.
Jeopardy contestants, your utter cluelessness in certain categories will no longer be met with sarcasm from Trebek. Instead, your parting gifts will include reminders of your ineptitude. The three football ignoramuses should have received jerseys from all 32 NFL teams and Cleveland Browns season tickets. Next season, the viral clip of their silence during the football category should run on every Jumbotron in every NFL stadium prior to kickoff.
The only game show that doesn’t merit stricter consequences for poor answers and behavior is, in my opinion, Family Feud.
Dealing with Steve Harvey is punishment enough.
