7 Days Of Strife: A Crazy Week Trying To Win Big On ESPN's 2-Minute Drill

So I called the number, unsure of what to expect. After leaving a voice mail, a woman named Jane Hirt called me back in Duluth. Jane told me I could try out for the 2MD, but I would have to fly my own way out to New York City.

Here is where a common theme emerges: Everything just fell into line.

Erica, my wife, was in NYC for the first week of August on business. So I tagged along and stayed at the Novotel at 52nd Street and Broadway. Life was good for the week. After all, it was my first time in the City. Saw the buildings. Did a few tours. But mostly, I prepared for my “Sports Game-Show Judgement Day”. On the late afternoon of August the 8th, I was to take the 2MD test.

Two weeks before, I made a sound purchase: The 2000 ESPN Sports Almanac. 960 pages. $12.99 - $13.71 with Minnesota tax. For days, at home, at work, at the Novotel, I studied the book. I made timelines on all four major sports, plus Olympics, boxing, tennis, golf, college sports. I could tell you all the MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL champions back to 1951. I could also tell you that Colorado and Wyoming have tied for the most NCAA skiing titles.

My sports knowledge had reached an incredible level, unmatched even in my years of the study of athletics.

When I walked into the Disney building on Park Avenue, it was August the 8th, an hour before my scheduled try-out. In fact, I was the first one to wait. Slowly, men mostly in their 20s and 30s rolled in. The vast majority were from the area, judging by how much “How do you think the Jets will do?” talk that flowed throughout the lobby. A paranoid man to the end, I kept reading my almanac, studying my charts. One man even asked if he could borrow the beaten-up almanac. For some reason, I declined. That is how nervous I was. I had no idea what to expect at the test.

With 30 of us in tow, we followed three women from the 2MD up to the eighth floor of the building. Good-natured humor was in the air, a few desperate contestants hitting on the production assistants. It had all of the elements of a sports bar in the middle of corporate America.

Test time. The written one first. 30 of us sitting around a conference table, with alternating tests to prevent cheating. 20 questions. Fill in the blank. No multiple-choice here to bail me out.

As I went through it, I silently praised the ESPN almanac for saving me. “How many singles titles did Martina Navratilova win at Wimbledon? Nine.” was just one of at least six questions that I had the answers for thanks to my studying. Only a few stumped me. I did not know who K.C. Jones won a title with Seattle as an assistant. But I knew more than most. 16 of the 20. Just enough to pass.

They called out the names of those who would move on. I have never been on “The Price Is Right”, but I can imagine the feeling of hearing your name in this forum is quite similar, just without hearing Rod Roddy and seeing 20-year-old girls in Arizona State sweatshirts.

Somewhere in there was “Chris Earl”. I remember pumping my fists. I also remember the guy whom I declined access to the almanac did not make the cut. I felt bad. For about three seconds. Time to move on. There’s a nice raise to go get.

Six of us remained for the “mock game play”. The idea here was to see if we had both the knowledge and the personality. In other words, the complete package. Producer Jen Kelly hit the record button on a minicam to record this rather dreadful spectacle. She played the role of Kenny Mayne. Jen says, “One of your hobbies is karaoke: What is your favorite song?”. Without missing a beat, I crooned out, “Luck Be A Lady....Tonight”.

I decided going in that I would have to be so outrageous, they could not turn me away. The whole time, I am cracking jokes and having way too much fun. Four “panelists” were there, the subjects were Miscellanous, Baseball, Basketball, and Football. I remember sweeping basketball, struggling in baseball and football, and getting out “Clubber Lang” in the first category. Much like future rival Jim Jividen, a turning point in the mock game play was getting Mr. T’s Rocky III character correct. Unlike Jim, I did not scream out “I pity the fool!”

Once it was over, a staffer told me to “Get out. Staying here and telling the others what happened can only hurt your score.” So I got out. Walked back to the Novotel, and flew back to Duluth the next morning.

Fast forward three weeks. I knew the first shows had already been taped. No phone calls back from 2MD. I figured I was done. One and done. Each time I called Jane, she said they were still making decisions on the final pool of contestants. With each passing day, the likelihood of making some serious cash for my sports trivia knowledge was slimmer and slimmer.

Then a phone call at work. “Hi Chris. This is Jen Kelly from ESPN’s 2-Minute Drill. I am pleased to tell you that you have been selected to be a contestant on the 2-Minute Drill.” My world changed immediately.

Over the past three weeks, I had quit the almanac. After beating myself up with it leading up to the test, I put it aside. The black spine of the almanac was creased and crumpled. Time to rev it back up.

Outside of this, I work as the sports director at KDLH-TV, the CBS affiliate in Duluth. What that really means is that I anchor ten sportscasts a week, shoot a bunch of games, write everything I say, edit all the videotape, and set the course for our sports coverage. Word of my upcoming appearance had gotten around. In my department of two, colleague Chris Long spent countless hours peppering me with obscure questions.

Soon after Labor Day, 2MD faxed me all the pertinent information on prizes and rules. I could capture up to $200,000 if I won all four rounds AND got all four bonus questions correct.

I knew the bonus questions would not be that difficult for me. Handling that aspect of the game was the smartest thing I did.

When I went in for the August audition, Jane asked me to bring in a total of two sports subjects. One of these two would be my specialty category for the bonus questions. As one who is in sports media, I knew I would have to match the researchers at ESPN tit-for-tat. Why give the “Worldwide Leader In Sports” the chance to crush me here? Obscure. Obscure. Obscure. Make them play the game on my level, I thought. Here is what I came up with:

1979-80 Kansas City Kings 1993 Wisconsin football team

Pretty obscure, huh? That was the plan. First, the rejected category: the 1993 Badgers. I remember that squad quite well, as they were the first UW team to win the Rose Bowl. I have books on that team, stats on that team, videotape on that team. I knew the scoring, the interceptions, the rushing touchdowns, everything about it. Too obscure, I guess.

The accepted category: 1979-80 Kansas City Kings. This floored everyone I came into contact with on the show. Growing up in KC, the Royals were my first love. The Kings were second, the Chiefs third. However, the 1980 Royals made it to the World Series, and George Brett nearly hit .400. Too much information there.

I had more ammunition with the ‘79-’80 Kings. First off, I owned the 1980-81 Kings media guide. That book had all the information about the 1979-80 season. Final scores and attendance figures for EACH game, winning streaks, leading scorers for EACH game. You get the drift. All of the necessary stuff was on two pages. ESPN would have to work the same two pages I would have to.

At least, in the specialty round, I knew I would be the “Worldwide Leader In Sports”.

My taping was set for Thursday, September 14. Not easy for me to get away: Our minor-league team, the Dukes, was in the Northern League World Series in upstate New York. On top of that, I had to attend a wedding in Milwaukee on that Saturday. Mix anxiety, a lucrative game show and a messed-up travel plan, and you are inviting the “Most Intriguing Day Of Your Life”.

That is what I experienced on September 14.

First, I went through stress watching the first 2MD show on Monday, September 11. Randy Page, AKA “Randy the Robot” blew away the competition on his way to $5,000 before missing the specialty question. When I saw Randy, I thought my stay would be quite short. Also, I realized that I had been STUDYING THE WRONG STUFF for six weeks! Instead of trying to identify every Triple Crown winner and every Heisman Trophy winner and every World Series MVP, I discovered 2MD was actually about quick recall, not obscure trivia.

With that in the back of my mind, I headed out for JFK Airport on the 13th. I arrived from Minneapolis around 5:30 pm, caught the F-train into Manhattan. By 7:00 pm, the day was done, and the city had that gloomy look that autumn brings. Also around that time, I checked into the Mid-town Manhattan YMCA. $72 a night. Had to pay my way, so I had to fly cheap. Mind you, I am a journalist in one of the smallest markest in the country. Even $72 a night was steep for me, but much better than the $300 or $400 Manhattan rooms can get. No problems with the Y, I had my own bunk and cable TV.

For three or four hours, I sat on the bunk, splitting my attention between my sports timelines and Rick Lazio challenging Hillary Clinton in the New York Senate debate. Sometime around 1 a.m., I went to sleep, ready for the craziest day of my life.

9 a.m. I had to be at the Sony Music Studios at 9 a.m., ready to win some serious loot. At 7, I headed the eight long blocks west and the seven short blocks north. I passed the silly tourists who watch the “Today” show outside. Out of place is how I felt -- without a doubt. Here I am, armed with my suitcase as I cannot afford another day at the Y, walking through Manhattan.

Sometime before 8, I rolled into Sony. So I sat. And waited. And waited. I befriended another out-of-towner, a Willy Gibson from Columbus. I was going through my almanac. Willy was going through a Bible. For some reason, he had the larger picture in mind.

Twelve of us headed in, following 2MD staff members. Jen and the others kept us in a single-file line. Could not observe anything. Could not touch anything. Had to ask permission to go to the bathroom. Once upstairs near the 2MD offices, the “Dirty Dozen” kicked back in the green room. Cheat sheets and luggage were traded for donuts and soda. Over the span of two or three hours, a 2MD attorney told us we had to be good little boys, thanks to the “21” scam long ago. I looked around this room, and thought to myself: “Someone in this room needs to be Charles Van Doren. I see plenty of Stempels here. I can be Chuck.”

The one person I spoke with most during the green room time was Jim Jividen, a teacher and all-around great guy from Florida. Cliques were forming. Sports geeks kept to themselves, wise-crackers in “social” professions like teaching and sports media were bonding.

No time to waste here, as I drew the first game show of the four that day. When the 2MD called in August, they told us we had to be ready to spend the entire day there. At least I would be out early, whether a winner or a loser. At least it would be over.

I was up against Mark Bloom, a former attorney, and Michael Jenkins, a security guard from the area. Fortunately for me, I was in the best 2MD first-round position: Second.

Without a doubt, the second spot in the best. You don’t get the opening jitters of going first, and you don’t have the finality and the pressure of the last spot. As a 2-guy, if you get more points than the lead-off contestant, you are guaranteed a spot in the second round. If not, there’s still hope.

Mark, Michael, and I were off to make-up to get prettied up. This surprises many who ask, but in Duluth, we do our own make-up. I often don’t even wear any because I hate the stuff and don’t like breakouts. During the 20 minutes in make-up, I tried to find my own “green room”, my own zone. With a fresh coat of pancake, I was ready.

Downstairs to the set for Game #14 of the first-round. Mark, Chris, and Michael playing for $5,000. Panelists for this one: Lennox Lewis, Dr. Jack Ramsey, Tom Jackson, and Peter Gammons. Seeing the heavyweight champion was a thrill, but unlike sports fans, as a sportscaster, I got a bigger thrill out of meeting Jack, Tom and Peter. Fans look up to athletes. I look up to national sportscasters.

Kenny Mayne came over and shook each of our hands, wishing us good luck. After sucking down bottled water like an Egyptian camel, I was ready as we finally began rolling tape.

I will admit, I was not really nervous during the first-round. The daily grind of TV broadcasting has pretty much knocked that out of me. I just went out and did it, I guess.

Mark was first up. He was a boxing guy, as his specialty was “Sugar Ray Leonard”. He had a distinct advantage, as Lennox Lewis provided boxing questions. Yet the blew the first one: “Muhammad Ali said: I float like a butterfly, sting like a - blank -”. Mark said “butterfly”. Just nerves, but nerves nonetheless.

Golfers often say it when they lose by 1 stroke. That blown birdie on 3 was just as important as the missed 4-foot par on 18. Same thing here.

Mark got 13 in the first round. Commercial break. Time to get it together.

Once in the chair, executive producer Michael Davies really puts it on. The panel is higher than the contestant to add intimidation. Music is distracting. Lights are even more distracting. All part of the game.

Kenny offered, “It says here you like karaoke...What’s your favorite song?”

“Luck be a LADY!! TONIGHT!!” A weak offering, but I wanted to make the show memorable.

“That wasn’t very good.” Kenny dead-panned. At that moment, I knew this could be a lot of fun.

My subjects: Lennox Lewis: “Boxing Nicknames”. Dr. Jack: “Small-School Stars”. Tom Jackson: “The Jacksons”. Peter Gammons: “King George (Steinbrenner)”.

As a basketball specialist, I was overjoyed with this. I also learned from watching Mark’s round to stay away from Lennox, as his reading as slow. All part of the game.

I survived with an unspectacular 13 correct. However, I did sweep T-J’s category thanks to knowing Phil Jackson coached the Albany Patroons before the Bulls. 14 points. Onto the second round. Michael could only crank out eight.

Mark found his groove in the second round. A solid 19 correct to give him a total of 32. I figured I was about to meet the end. Then a funny thing happened. Once again, it all came into line:

“What Japanese slugger has the most...” Peter asked. “Sadahara Oh!” I interrupted, remembering the Beastie Boys lyric from the 1989 smash “Hey Ladies”...”I got more hits than Sadahara Oh!” No kidding, that is what went through my head.

“What bare-knuckle boxer...” Lennox said. “Sullivan!” I guessed. No cute lyrics for that one.

“What comic book artist paid 2.7 million dollars...” Peter asked. “Todd McFarlane!” I shouted out. McFarlane bought McGwire’s 70th HR from a high school friend of mine back in St. Louis. Coincidence, anyone?

I swore to myself not to look at the clock and just focus. I peeked with 20 seconds left. Down 32-28. I kept track of the final four questions with my right hand. I was in the zone.

“Kermit Washington!”

“Timberwolves!”

I was down 32-31. The music was pounding my skull. I knew time was short.

“Who coached the Giants immediately following Bill Parcells?” Tom Jackson asked.

“Ray Handley.” I sheepishly offered.

“Correct.” Kenny said, almost shocked I got it right. We’re tied.

“In 1986, what Atlanta Brave hit four home runs...”

“BOB HORNER!” I shouted. The image of Horner holding four baseballs to commemorate the feat on his light blue 1987 Fleer card was burned into my conscience at that moment.

Up 33-32, I looked over at the scoreboard to confirm I was up. Lennox was talking to me in Pig Latin, it didn’t matter. I had won.

I shouted “Robert Goulet” to Lennox’s question, as that was my throwaway answer. (Goulet was great in South Pacific and Naked Gun 2 1/2).

“By the narrowest of margins...” Kenny started of the explanation of my victory.

I remember jumping up in the air, but little else of the moment. I had just given myself a $5,000 raise. I probably shouldn’t have won...but I did. Time to double it.

After the commercial break, it was time for the 1979-80 Kansas City Kings choice to pay off. Kenny explained my ESPN Experience, which was flying to Bristol to take in a day of NFL football and watch NFL Countdown.

Then, question time.

“The 1979-80 Kansas City Kings enjoyed one of their finest seasons to date...winning 47 games and only losing 35. During the regular season, two players scored over 40 points. One Kings player had a season-high of 45 points. Another Kings player had a high of 49 points. For $10,000, American, name these two Kansas City Kings.”

I knew it right away. Right from the 80-81 media guide season recap. While fighting the excitement, I decided to have some fun with it.

“45 points...Scott Wedman...January 2nd against Utah.”

“What is wrong with you?” Mayne asked.

“I don’t know. 49 points...For $10,000. (Which Willy also did in later rounds)...49 points...Otis Birdsong.”

With that, I had cashed in my sports knowledge. I was also about to begin the craziest few hours of my life. And it was only 12:30 p.m.

Once it was over, Jen Kelly led us upstairs to sign the paper-work. Mark and Michael received ESPN duffel bags. DUFFEL BAGS! I’m signing for over $10,000 and these guys get duffel bags. Then, off to the green room to get our stuff. Jim Jividen handed me a dollar to work on my singing. I remember telling him to save the dollar in case things didn’t work out for him later that day (Cocky me).

In less than three minutes, it was over. I was out on the street. Mark left the area. Michael was flanked by his family. I had my suitcase, and I was surrounded by 30 smokers patting me on the back for my performance (They were outdoors for the smoke break between shows).

I walked across the street to call Erica and let her know I just won. Got voice mail. Left the message. I had dreamed about hearing her reaction live. Instead, I got voice mail.

One of the most bizarre feelings is winning a nice chunk of cash and not being able to tell a soul. I rolled to the Novotel, since I knew it had a nice bathroom, and changed into comfortable clothes for the journey ahead. Enjoyed a Ranch 1 chicken sandwich and hit the 7-Train for LaGuardia -- where my flight to Chicago was to depart. Remember, I had that wedding in Milwaukee to go to.

I arrived at LGA 10 minutes after the plane’s departure (The Ranch 1 cost me). My original flight was the next day, for I did not know how long I would stay at the Sony Music Studios. Three hours later, I was off to Chicago Midway. Naturally, we were delayed. But, it’s American Trans Air, where the first two drinks are on the house!

That loosened me up a bit, as I got to chatting with the other two men in my row. For two hours, we all told each other about our days. For some reason, mine story tended to win out.

Once in Chicago at 8 p.m., I had to take a taxi to the Greyhound Bus Station in downtown Chicago. Not a great place to be after dark. Thank goodness ESPN didn’t give me 100 $100 bills and say bye. By this point, I am down to about 60 bucks. My credit cards are maxed out to pay for the trip. Think of it this way: I just won $10,000 and I have to scrape together $13 to take a Greyhound to Milwaukee.

After just hoping no one bugs me on the bus, we pulled into Milwaukee just before midnight. My best friend picks me up, and it’s off for some nightlife until 2 a.m. Bizarre day. Bizarre night.

I discovered the next day my second-round appearance would be the following Tuesday, the 19th. Problem: I had little money left from ANY sources, and I now had to get a plane-ticket out on Monday and back on Tuesday or Wednesday. Hello business class. I spent a nice slice of time at Kinko’s in downtown Milwaukee hooking up to Priceline for a ticket. Got one on United. Oh boy.

Erica met me in Milwaukee, and the weekend was a dream, as I figured I would win at least one more round. By Sunday, I was back in Duluth anchoring the 10 p.m. sports. The next day, gotta head back out to NYC.

I arrive at Minneapolis/St. Paul airport early Monday morning trying to fly stand-by. Just want to get to the YMCA as early as possible. It doesn’t happen. Because it is a Priceline ticket, I can’t get anyone to put me on an early flight. I wind up sleeping in the parking lot of the Mall of America for five hours.

After a two-hour United delay in Chicago, I arrive at the YMCA at 12:30 a.m., just seven hours before I am due for battle at the Sony Music Studios. Still, I am ready to go.

By 8 a.m., it’s time to play for big money. I see Willy Gibson walking down the street, and we embrace, as I did not know he also won his first-round game. I also see Jim Jividen. Man, I think, this is working out too well.

Willy and I chat in the coffeehouse across the street from Sony, and he doesn’t appear nervous at all. He was the 14-seed, I was the 13. I had no idea how the seedings and matchups would work.

On this day, there were nine of us for three games. Once again, I was up first. Only I had to face 6-seed Jim Jividen and 7-seed Mark Freidenthal. It pained me to face Jim this early. I, quite frankly, wanted to beat Friedenthal into the ground. He was an obnoxious man, crude in manner and sloppy in form.

Like the week before, the 2MD attorney put us through the motions, and Michael Davies spoke to us about the later rounds. A sense of community was in the green room this week, as we all had won at least $5,000 except for an alternate that flew in from Seattle.

Trouble lurked ahead. I knew it from the start. First off, I drew the 3-spot for our game. The worst one to have. You already know exactly what you need to get, and if you are struggling, panic sets in.

Jen told us the panelists: Nick Zito, Mike Golic, Mike Greenberg, and Stuart Scott. Cool, I thought, I know my Triple Crown winners of horse racing. But I was concerned. Jim was from Florida and looked like he has played the horses. Freidenthal was an older man. ALL older men play horses.

After make-up, it was back in the chair. The stakes were higher and the mistakes hurt. First, Jim had an absolute nightmare of a round. 12. I still remember Jim coming over to me after the round and saying, “I’m done”.

“Take heart. You may not be.” I told him. I really believed Mark would choke. He didn’t. Mark scored a 15.

As I sat there watching Mark, I suddenly felt really confident. Mark had a very easy run. His subjects included “The Kentucky Derby”, “The Green Bay Packers”, “One-Team Wonders”, and one baseball category that escapes me. As I sat there, I got 17 right..including sweeps of the Packers and 3-point shooters. I would have had 19. I SHOULD HAVE pulled out the 2 instead of the 3 an hour before.

My round was an even bigger nightmare than Jim’s: Nick Zito: “Triple Crown Winners”. I smiled, as I had all 11 memorized. Mike Golic: “Life With The Raiders”. I winced. Not impossible, though. Mike Greenberg: “Asian Sensations”. All I could think was Len Sakata, an Orioles second baseman in the early 80s. Maybe they’ll give me Sadahara Oh again. Stuart Scott: “The Dream Team”. Now I’m screwed. Throughout ALL my studying, I took a chance that I would not get the Dream Team, believe it or not. I worked college, I worked pros, I figured I may know enough to get through.

I had tons of good luck in my first contest. I gave it all back five days later.

The first question came out of Mike Golic’s mouth:

“This 1991 first-round draft pick spent time in jail on marijuana charges.”

Pass. Todd Marinovich didn’t come to mind then. On and on it went. I never got into a groove, and, more importantly, I allowed myself to get rattled by the situation. I only needed 13 points to move on -- maybe 12 if I win the tie-breaker. I figured during the game if I could just answer the first three “easier” questions from each panelist, I’ll have 12. One harder basketball question would put me over the top. My second-round is the strongest, I knew that. If I could just get past Jim here.

It never happened.

Pass after pass after pass.

“Who was the off-guard on the 1992 Dream Team?” Stuart asked.

Magic? No. Maybe...Uh, Stockton...no no. I forgot the best player in basketball history. Michael Jordan.

To bring back the golf term, that was my triple-bogey on 7. I never recovered.

I also remembering almost blowing up at Zito. He was mumbling some question, and I almost screamed, "Zito, I'm not a freakin' horse! English! English!"

With all the panic, I almost pulled it out of the fire.

After stumbling through the Raiders (3 of 5), Nick Zito’s pig-latin category (2 of 5), Dream Team (3), and Asian Sensations (a surprising 3), I ran out of time on Zito.

The answer was Eddie Arcaro. Forgot the question, but I knew the answer, and it was one second too late.

That’s it. It’s over.

I recently heard Bill Raftery talk about the suddenness of the NCAA basketball tournament. It’s over before you realize it, he said. I would agree, except that here it is over in 2 minutes. No half-time. No TV time-outs.

I went to the chair expecting to win $30,000 more within the next twenty minutes. I left it with nothing more. Once the buzzer hit, I slumped to the ground. That is how shocked I was. Not unlike a 3-seed in the NCAA tournament who was been struggling, but still thinks they’ll pull it out.

At least I recovered in time for Kenny Mayne’s game-show eulogy of me. “You still have your $10,000 and no one’s going to take that away from you...”

“No...They can’t take that away from me!!” I sang in my awful Sinatra voice.

“Stop singing! Quit singing and go away!” Kenny cracked. A bond was made.

Getting out of that chair was one the most difficult things I have ever done. Watching Jim and Mark play out their game was even tougher. Jim would up winning, and he even moved onto the Christmas Day final, netting $100,000 along the way.

To see him win that day, yes it hurt -- I cannot say otherwise, but I was overjoyed that HE won if I could not. Jim Jividen was a worthy opponent, an excellent combatant, and, currently and hopefully for the future, a guy I keep in touch with via e-mail every couple of weeks.

An even more bizarre feeling than winning $10,000 and not being able to tell a soul is losing out on $40,000 or more and having to somehow catch a flight home. I wanted to get out of town at that moment. I signed for my prize -- an ESPN blanket to keep me warm in Duluth, and headed out. I hugged Willy good-bye and wished him good luck. I didn’t know for three months that he would win the trophy and $115,000 the next day. I also didn’t know Jim would bag $100,000.

Off to LGA, this time I was able to catch an early flight. I was even back home in my bed in Duluth by 11 p.m. that night. Couldn't sleep all night.

Three weeks of stress and anxiety turned me into a real mess. Especially for the final few days, I became a man consumed by greed -- and I did not like that at all.

I often think about that final game. Had a few nightmares afterward, and some regret lingered for a few weeks. I was never consumed with anger, but with “how could I forget it was Michael Jordan” humor. As someone who is somewhat known in Duluth sporting circles, I often hear “Michael Jordan” taunts when I am at games, or even playing pick-up basketball. At least they are positive taunts, and I do enjoy it when people come up and want to ask me about it.

Since the game show, I have often said I should have LOST my first-round match and I should have WON the quarterfinal.

Coaches and referees like to say it, but all things really do even out.

An author’s note: Thanks to Michael Billman for this excellent outlet, and also thanks to Jim and Willy for keeping in touch. The experience of last fall was incredible, and I look forward to staying in contact with you guys.