(Missed Part I? Read it here)

I’m always struck by how important life events take place in the most nondescript places. I remember showing up for my SATs, being led to the room where my future would be decided, and finding out it’s the same classroom where I dozed through 10th grade history. Or when someone was moving away, trying to say our difficult goodbyes, and noticing we’re having this pivotal moment at the airport Sbarro.

Similarly, the green room at the Jeopardy studio is just a place. It’s pleasant, kind of how I imagined the teacher’s lounge at school. It’s a perfectly adequate room, but no room would have been up to the task of absorbing the nerves and anticipation 13 contestants brought into it. There’s 13 of us because Jeopardy tapes five shows in a single day. So when you’re watching from home and they reference something from “yesterday’s show,” it probably happened 15 minutes earlier.

Everyone was kind. The other contestants are your competition, but we felt united by a shared feeling of “holy crap, are we really about to do this?” The staff sincerely want you to present the best version of yourself on TV. The host, Ken Jennings, made a point of greeting us in his street clothes so he wouldn’t intimidate us in full suit and tie.

It was time for the first game of the day. And when the first randomly selected name was my own, my entire digestive tract sank five inches. Now? Already?? I. Don’t. Feel. Prepared.

There aren’t many experiences comparable to stepping out in front of a full studio audience. Dazed, the three of us - myself, Emily, and reigning champ from last season Matthew - somehow make it to our podiums. The cameras start rolling, the theme music plays, and the show is underway.

The only thing keeping me grounded in this moment is a sense of familiarity. Over the past month, I’d watched a looooot of Jeopardy episodes. I would practice hearing the question, buzzing in at the right moment, and firing off an answer before my brain could overthink. In other words, I had turned Jeopardy into muscle memory. I was running on autopilot.

Which is why it took a few minutes before a realization sank in. Hey. I’m doing well! I’m beating the other two to the buzzer, with the right answer in my head. While you’re playing, you have no idea what the scores are because you’re hyperfocused on the next clue. But at the end of the Jeopardy round, I look up and see I’m in the lead.

The Double Jeopardy round begins and I’m back in autopilot. The cameras, the audience, and the other players almost disappear from my awareness and I enter a tunnel vision universe where three things exist: the buzzer in my hand, the clues board, and the sound of Ken’s voice. Scores go up, scores go down, who knows. At the end of Double Jeopardy, Matthew’s at $12,000, Emily’s at $4,000, and I’m at $15,600.

In Final Jeopardy, you first make your wager. The conventional wisdom for first place is to assume second place might wager everything and cover that. You control your own destiny that way. If you know the answer, you’re guaranteed to win. If you lose it’s because you didn’t know the answer, which is psychologically more palatable than knowing the answer but not wagering enough.

But…man. This is a big amount I’m writing down. I wrestle with it for a while and strongly consider a smaller number. In the end, I keep the big wager.

And now the clue. “Bearing the name of an arthropod genus, this iconic vehicle first sold after WWII was designed by Italian engineer Corradino D’Ascanio.”

Arthropod? Like an insect? I go through the Italian vehicles I know. Vespa. Alfa Romeo. Ferrari. None sound like insects. But why did they specify he’s Italian when he has an obviously Italian name? Maybe the whole Italian thing is a misdirect. Just because he’s Italian doesn’t mean he worked on an Italian brand. What other brand…VW Bug? That’s an insect. Five seconds left. Put something down.

None of us got this right, because it turns out (as I’m sure some of you were screaming at the TV) that Vespa is Italian for wasp. I lose my big wager, and end up below Matthew. It takes me a moment to process what’s happened. Just like that, it’s over. Second place.

This was a tough one to digest, because it was within reach. I had considered wagering small, and I had considered Vespa as an answer. If I acted on either one, I would have won. But I went with my gut, and sometimes your gut is wrong. At that point it’s luck, and luck wasn’t on my side.

I came back to my Airbnb, bummed but also strangely riding a high. I knew I played well up there. I had tapped into a flow state where my body knew to do all the right things up until the end. Riding that flow, like surfing a wave, was the greatest feeling in the world. I was nervous as hell, but I held it together.

Even if you shoot for the moon and miss, you still feel the thrill of flying. You don’t get it by never leaving the ground. I understand that now and I feel more confident in my ability to master whatever goal I dedicate myself to. Everything’s just preparation plus luck. I’ll bring the preparation. And I’m due for a lucky break next time, whatever shape that next time takes.

Thanks to my fellow contestants, the staff at Jeopardy, and everyone who supported me. Wish I got you that W but at least I can say we put on an entertaining episode.

Wiser and ever so slightly richer,

Bryan