So which is it: 4 1/2 or 5?
The people who write the questions for the hit game show ”Jeopardy”
need to know the number of completed innings before a baseball game becomes official. They`ve been tossing the question around a conference table for several minutes now, fine-tuning one of those pithy ”Jeopardy” answers, as they try to come up with the proper ”Jeopardy” question.
It`s round-table time at the Hollywood offices of America`s most intelligent game show, when five writers run through the questions and answers for a couple of upcoming ”Jeopardy” games. That`s 230 shows per year, 73 questions per show, for a total of 16,790 questions every season. Hard questions. Easy questions. Those tough ”final Jeopardy” questions. Not to mention confusing questions, like the one currently on the table.
”The number of complete innings which make a baseball game official,”
head writer Harry Eisenberg reads.
”Five,” writer Kathy Easterling shoots back.
”No, wait a minute,” researcher Steven Dorfman responds, ”if the home team is winning, it`s only 4 1/2.”
”Is it?” Eisenberg says. ”We`ll have to check the rule book. And we need to reword the question. How about something like, `For a baseball game to be official, the losing team has to have batted how many completed innings?`
”
And so on. ”Jeopardy`s” staff of dedicated triviameisters ponders the baseball question, then moves on to fresher territory.
”George (Vosburgh, the producer) has flagged the next one,” Eisenberg says. ”He said it was out of date: `Toothsome twosome who were partners in crime on NBC.` ”
”Toothsome?” the four writers respond in unison.
”Do you mean Loni Anderson and Lynda Carter (in the TV series `Partners in Crime`)?” writer Barbara Heller asks.
”The word `toothsome` bothers you all?” Eisenberg asks.
”Try saying `toothsome twosome` a few times real fast,” Dorfman jokes.
”I think of Lynda Carter as being toothy,” says writer Fred Pohl, who is looking the word up in a dictionary. ”It also means sexually attractive or exciting.”
This verbal volleyball, which usually runs on for about an hour, comes at the tail end of a long, relatively complex process. ”Jeopardy” questions are written in categories, six questions to each category. Each writer is given a quota of 15 categories per week, plus the task of coming up with a number of
”final Jeopardy” questions.
The show`s basic format asks contestants to choose categories and accompanying questions. Each contestant continues until he or she misses an answer. The twist is that the ”questions” actually are ”answers,” for which contestants must state the correct question, e.g. Answer (which appears on the game board): Dec. 7, 1941; Question: ”What is the date Pearl Harbor was attacked?” Harder questions are worth more money. In ”final Jeopardy”
each contestant can wager all or none of his earnings on a last question selected by the leading contestant.
”We don`t like trick questions, boring questions or questions the audience couldn`t care less about,” Eisenberg said. ”The questions should involve something interesting, something people appreciate being reminded of, where they say, `I should have known that.` ”
”A bad question is one that`s so specific only a doctor, lawyer or nuclear physicist would know it,” producer Vosburgh added. ”A good question is one you`ve probably learned in high school or soon thereafter.”
To aid in this search for the ultimate bit of information, the
”Jeopardy” writing staff, whose backgrounds range from country singer to actress to former schoolteacher, has a small office library containing 1,500 books, seven sets of encyclopedias, three years` worth of USA Today, media guides from professional sports teams, a subscription to the weekly publication Facts on File and numerous informational pamphlets issued by private and public corporations. Each writer is also encouraged to make use of his or her own reference works.
Information is ”Jeopardy`s” lifeblood, the pulse that makes the second- highest-rated game show in TV syndication history (after ”Wheel of Fortune”) a hot property as it enters its fifth year of syndication. (The 1988-89 season, which begins Monday, also marks the 25th anniversary of the show`s debut on NBC, in 1963.)
The program is successful because it doesn`t appeal to the glitz and greed that other game shows pander to, because it provides an information fix and because, in the words of host Alex Trebek, ”It`s the kind of show you don`t have to be ashamed to admit you watch.”
Given this context, it`s no wonder the ”Jeopardy” writers have a tough gig, one that is carefully scrutinized. For one thing, the parameters for
”Jeopardy” questions, while fairly wide, are still proscribed. Trivia may be in, but esoterica-categories on Jews in sports, Charlemagne or Bertolt Brecht, for instance-is most definitely out. Further, because the game calls for quick thinking and lightning-fast reflexes, ”Jeopardy” questions have to be tight and concise.
”The questions have to be very clear,” Kathy Easterling said. ”They can`t be so convoluted that people stare at (them) for a long time.”
”We`re also limited in space,” Harry Eisenberg added, referring to the video screens on which the answers appear. ”A long question for us, one with small words, would be about 18 words.”
Because of all this, ”Jeopardy” questions go through the game-show version of quality control. Each group of questions put together by a writer is first checked by Eisenberg and Vosburgh, then checked by a researcher. A computer operator then prints out questions on color-coded strips: green for lifestyles and inventions; blue for academic questions; pink for music, sports TV and other pop culture; orange for celebrities and other people in the news; and yellow for wordplay. Eisenberg then mixes and matches the strips, puts them together into a game format and checks to make sure there are no conflicting questions.
”We pretty much give the writers free rein,” Eisenberg said, ”but we do keep tabs of what`s coming in, so if there are too many questions about presidents, we send out a memo saying no more questions on presidents.”
After Vosburgh looks over the questions, they go to a round-table discussion (which usually occurs about three weeks before a show is taped):
The writers check for fuzzy wording, incorrect answers or any other problems that the producer may have noted. Corrections are made, the questions are officially approved, and the process begins all over again.
So here`s Eisenberg, moving on to the ”Presidents” category, asking for the ”number of presidents born outside of North America.”
”None,” the writers say in unison.
”George says, `I`m not fond of this one,` ” Eisenberg notes, as he reads from a little slip of paper that Vosburgh has attached to this question, ” `because it implies there is one.` This question will have to go.”
”Okay, let`s move on to `Etiquette,` ” Eisenberg says. ”Standard tip for a flight attendant.”
”What?” the writers say in unison.
”None,” Dorfman finally answers.
”Is that a little tricky?” Eisenberg asks.
”Yes, that`s a little tricky,” Barbara Heller responds.
Says Easterling, ”When nobody round-tabling even understands it, then it`s not a good question.”
