Repost - VITAL Idle

Just checking in with a Script Frenzy break and update. I’m about 50 pages in, half waty through. I am on pace to make 100 pages, even with being idle for a few days.

On this fill month post, we’ll go back to my last spring in Indiana. I was part of a quiz show team for our radio station, and our appearance was less than spectacular. The last line of this story was a little chilling, as at this point, I had no idea that I was going to leave Collegetown, USA in just three months. So this is a repost from April 9, 2002 from the original ianshane.com. Enjoy.

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April is the month of the greatest competition known to man. It isn’t the final game of the NCAA tourney, the Little 500, or even the Masters. No contest can bring out the true champion in us all like the VITAL quiz bowl.

VITAL (Volunteers In Tutoring Adult Learners) is committed to raising the literacy rate in Bloomington. Every year, the VITAL quiz bowl is the centerpiece of the annual fundraiser that is held at the Monroe County Library Main Branch in downtown Bloomington.

Our company is usually represented by personalities for our sister station, AM 1370 WGCL. The “Chatterboxes” have had a horrid history in the Quiz Bowl. In eight years, we have failed to win a game and advance to the second round. To make matters worse, the team would be without the services of Jeff Dellinger, who planned to be out of town that week. The star player from last year’s team was gone.

I wanted in and I asked to fill Jeff’s shoes. Our Program Director not only took me up on the offer to play, but gave me the Captain’s C for the team…meaning I was the spokesperson for the team on bonus questions.

I showed up at the library to check in. There was a guy sitting by the entrance of the auditorium, “looking official”. Of course, to me, any one that carries a clipboard is official enough.

“I’m Ian Shane checking in for WGCL,” I said.

The guy checks his lists to confirm. It struck me as strange that he had to do that. Was there anybody just itching to get backstage and pretend to be a player for the greater glory to be on cable access for 15 minuets? Satisfied that I was indeed slated to play the game, he hands me a few sheets of paper, a blank nametag, and a black Sharpie Pen.

One of the grips came to us to let us know that it was, as he put it, “go time”. They lead us backstage to our tables. We put our cardboard nameplates to the left of us, as we were instructed to do.

Eight years of being one and done were over. Tichenor Publishing was going down!

During the introductions, the Alex Trebek wannabe instructed each team member to test the buzzer one at a time. He looked right at us and told us to say our names directly in the microphone. Who the hell was he kidding? Out of all the teams playing, we were the only ones that actually make our living by talking into a mic. Thanks, Skippy…I think we got that one.

I was warned before the game to be quick, and I soon found out why. The game started, and Tichenor got off to an early lead, while being a step ahead of me, and the rest of the team. I don’t think that they were smarter, just faster.

We were in need of a rally, and I had been silent all night long. I then rattled off three right answers in a row to make a game of it. It looked as if the Chatterboxes weren’t dead yet. I was like Vinnie “The Microwave” (who could get hot in a hurry…get it) Johnson from the old Detroit Pistons. The host took a break from the action to give a score update, with Tichenor up 90-70. Unfortunately that little time out broke our momentum and Tichenor took full advantage by firing off four straight answers.

The next question, you would think, would be up my alley. “Who became the youngest person to achieve the top of the Billboard charts in 1970?”

Joe buzzed in quickly to answer before fully having the answer. “Uh…the kid from Gary…what his name…Jackson…the weird one…MICHAEL.”

Five points, Chatterboxes.

However, it would not be enough to mount any kind of comeback. That would be the last correct answer that we would conjure. Team Tichenor answered a few more question before the gun went off.

Final Score Tichenor 135, Chatterboxes 75…by most standards, a major ass whippin’. Beaten and broken, I headed off stage with my head hung low. The other members of the team were use to the kind of beheading that we suffered, but I wasn’t. I was brought in to be the one that pushed us over the hump, but I came up short and let the team down.

Well, there’s always next year.

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