It is not often that a celebrity death brings out a crippling sadness inside of me. There is something about the moment when confirmation of reality just overwhelms you. I had that on November 8, 2020, the morning that Alex Trebek had died. No matter how much I tried to control myself, I just grew sadder. It wasn’t even a day after one of the happiest, most triumphant days of the year as Joe Biden became president-elect. I expected to spend my Sunday with a sense of relief. Instead, the pain of the harsh reality overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just that one of the most celebrated men in quiz show history had died. He was my hero, a figure that I continually looked up to.
For me, there was one constant that brought comfort to my life. Even if I was too busy to stop and watch the 6:30 news, I did everything to be in front of that TV for 7 PM. To me, Jeopardy! epitomized something greater than any other competition. I have an admiration for game shows, but most have a limited appeal. Not this one. Even if the format had been largely the same going on 37 years, there was a spontaneity that was addictive. Every box on two different boards presented a new piece of trivia, the potential to be something formative for my endlessly curious brain.
I think of myself as Rosie Perez in White Men Can’t Jump (1992). There’s something rewarding about running a category, even greater if you run a full board. The audience would cheer, taking pride in your intelligence. It was also something that every other show failed to be: quick-paced. Most needed exposition to get going, but Jeopardy! mastered the art of getting down to business, forcing the best minds to lean forward from their podiums, reading the clue, and prepare to hit that buzzer. Everyone playing may know the answer, but there’s a thrill of being the smartest AND fastest.
I suppose this all sounds more like a praise of the mechanics of the show, which will continue on to whoever is the next host. In fact, it’s one of the few things that has lasted longer than the echoic theme song. However, it’s a unifying knot of everything that this world has built, creating a cult of people who celebrate intellect, wanting to learn just a little bit more. Why? There’s that fantasy you’ll be on Jeopardy! one day and need to know about different breeds of dogs or the collected works of Richard Wagner. It’s the idea that every useless tidbit has value and makes the world feel bigger.
For those 37 years, Trebek was at the center of the franchise. Everything from video games to daily trivia calendars all had his face stamped on it. His shift from glasses and mustache to his later form remain great discussion points. So much about the cult of this show is thanked to Trebek’s ability to guide everyone. At the start of every episode, he would come out and say “Thank you, Johnny” to longtime announcer Johnny Gilbert, often providing a brief recap of the previous day’s episode.
As his book “The Answer Is…” will be the first to tell you, one of the best aspects of Trebek was that he was a caring, compassionate man. Some would joke that he was distinctly Canadian in the way he politely told people they were wrong. Even then, there is something incredible about his humbleness, his ability to let the disappointment of contestants not deter them from playing on. He often would suggest that a wrong answer was “close” or that things might pick up. Even as they approached Final Jeopardy!, he would suggest that the last-place contestant was “still in the game,” if just to provide a sense of morale. After all, the final wager had the rare opportunity of changing the game entirely.
It’s strange to think of Trebek as a hero because he was more of a moderator to what was great about the show. Within the context of that half-hour, you rarely got too many personal details about him. He definitely would perk up when something interested him, unafraid to show that he had these odd little passions. It was almost like he desired everyone to go home and do more research. At the end of the day, his voracious appetite for knowledge was endearing, serving the role of teacher to everyone watching. He was your friend, even as he toured the globe to collect clues with his “Jeopardy! Team” and offered contests to visit the various continents and see the wonders for yourself.
More than anything, Trebek had this way of making us appreciate our differences. Some of us thrived in science knowledge while others puns or Shakespeare quotes. They all had a home here and nobody was above the other. Every episode, Trebek had an interview segment that became a dream for every aspiring contestant. You spend your life wondering what you would talk to him about, making the most of that brief time. Sometimes it was a cute mishap story, others featured dreams of what they wanted to do. While he showed affection to every player, it was fun reading into his brief cutaway to the next contestant as he said “Good for you,” as if he was secretly bored. It was funnier because you couldn’t believe that he really was that indifferent about anything in his life.
I would be the first to tell you that I had that dream of being a contestant since I was eight. There was that naivety that I would try out for the show as soon as I could. No matter who you ask, I was never the best “player” when we watched, missing whole categories and having buzz words to throw off my “opponents.” I loved learning so much every night, keeping my brain from calcifying. It’s responsible for why my brain remains open, constantly curious to form new hobbies, and listen to the world around me. Sure some nights were so overwhelming with the knowledge that I forgot most of it, but others will present one or two things that have stuck with me, and I’m thankful for that.
Which is a long way to say that a few of my dreams were dashed in Trebek’s passing. I never got to have that interview with Trebek on TV. I didn’t even get to experience the joy of sitting in the audience, watching a taping for a few episodes. All that I can really claim is that I am officially a Jeopardy! Test reject. Maybe it was because of his relapse of pancreatic cancer, but I remember the shift from the more prestigious biannual test days to an open-ended schedule. I feel thankful to at least have been part of the former group if just to know what that experience was like. So long as you have a head full of knowledge, I promise you that it’s worth trying.
If you had to ask me the best way to remember Jeopardy! in light of his passing, I would be quick to tell you to watch two different special tournaments. While every episode has something worth remembering, especially the Tournament of Champions or Teen/Teachers Tournaments, there was something abundantly clear about The All-Star Games and The Greatest of All Time (the first, and likely only, primetime event in Trebek’s run).
If you asked me, The All-Star Game embodied everything that made the show feel like a family, where the common man could become a hero just because they had knowledge. It was symbolically the culmination of what Trebek had achieved. By becoming someone that welcomed intelligence, he drew in figures like Ken Jennings, Brad Rutter, Colby Burnett, and Austin Rogers that became fan favorites. They had their own fake in-fighting and built into the universe. By some miracle, Trebek had a good sense of humor about everything and was fine poking fun as well as taking jabs.
It may have broken from format a little, but you could see the deconstruction of Jeopardy! as a phenomenon. There was strategy over how every round was played, where you got to hear Rutter admit that his “Go big or go home” strategy once cost them an easy lead. If you watched it live, you even got to see power rankings flash across the screen. There was a whole gambling nature to it, but all in regards to a sense of playfulness. You loved watching Rogers argue with Buzzy Cohen, making flippant remarks when he got a question wrong. Trebek was the glue of the show, having fun and bringing out the best in these players.
To me, that is the great finale. Everything that followed, in my mind, remains a victory lap. By then everyone knew of Trebek’s personal health. Even then, reading pages of “The Answer Is…” had a similar heartbreaking impact on my views on him. He showed such strength onstage that you never believed that he was feeble, losing his sight and going bald. He seemed so resilient and you believed that he was going to pull through. He became a spokesperson for pancreatic cancer groups in its wake, admitting that there’s strength in admitting your weaknesses. He wasn’t only humbled, but he somehow became more compassionate and open about his shortcomings down to writing an autobiography that only enriches the mythology of this man.
The Greatest of All Time Tournament remains arguably the most incredible run of Jeopardy! episodes in its history. While I wouldn’t call Jennings, Rutter, or James Holzhauer my ultimate favorites, there was something incredible about watching them clear a board as if they were playing at 2x speed. Again, it was a celebration of intellect in its highest form, and there was something to watching the wagers and strategies all come into play. Most of all, they were having fun and knowing that even if they were against each other, they were still friends.
In fact, it ends with one of the most bittersweet moments in Jeopardy! history, and one that made me fear his death a near year in advance. He spoke about Jennings’ win as something finite, that there would never be anyone better than him (Jennings even went to court to legitimize this). It sounded like a farewell in disguise, and to have it in primetime only brought more attention to what made the show essential. Even if I am critical of his gameplay, I remain thankful that Holzhauer was able to bring attention back to the show in such significant ways, making this capper more than just a shrouded fan event.
I suppose that’s the thing about Trebek. Even when you talk about his accomplishments, you can’t help but include the world that he sought to make better. He made everyone feel better about their personal knowledge, knowing how to feel encouraging even as he corrected you. He likes to claim that the show was never about him, but he was essential to making the show what it was. Nobody hosted with as much focus and spontaneity that he did. He welcomed you in every night, and that begins to make him feel like your friend.
I’m confident that Jeopardy! will continue in some form for years to come, but it felt special that as other series like Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? replaced hosts by the year, he was always there doing what he loved. Nothing really changed about the show, and yet it remained one of the most exciting parts of my night. He was always there to give me comfort at 7 PM, and I’m going to miss it. With the announcement that his final episode will air on December 25, I cry a little more realizing how beloved he actually was.
More than anything, I have a strange relationship with watching older episodes. If it’s too familiar, I have trouble enjoying it. Even with an 8,000+ episode archive, I don’t know how to feel knowing that there’s now a finite amount of episodes (as of today, there are 33 episodes left). What will I do now in the evenings, especially losing someone as dependable as him? Knowing that I’m not the only one who feels that way, I feel a little more grateful. Thank you for everything, Trebek. I’m sad that we never got to meet, but I’m thankful for the decades of time we spent together.
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