The professors who beat Matt Amodio at bar trivia

I teach a class on celebrity culture. We deconstruct societal engagement with celebrities, evaluate how celebrities function as commodities, and analyze the role of celebrity in building identity. We even engage in harmless celebrity worship, especially if it involves Harry Styles.

We also talk about how celebrity helps us assess ourselves and our perceived worth.

This brings me to my nemesis, Matt Amodio.

To date, Amodio has accumulated 35 wins and more than $1.4 million in prize money during his tenure on my favorite game show, “Jeopardy!” Only Ken Jennings has more wins (75). Only Jennings and James Holzhauer have earned more prize money in regular, non-tournament play ($2.5 million and $2.46 million, respectively).

Amodio is living out one of my two bucket-list items.

This is only one reason he’s my nemesis. To grok the full impact of Amodio’s run on me, we need to address the pandemic.

As the world went into lockdown, two things happened.

First, people sought entertainment to accommodate their enforced solitude. They entertained themselves with puzzles or connected with others through video games. Games became a critical lifeline for people to exercise their brains and maintain important social connections.

Second, people leaned into nostalgia. Our usual entertainment outlets were shut down, so we faced pandemic trauma by turning to the entertainment that nourished us during our youth.

For me, that was “Jeopardy!” The show entered a forced hiatus in March 2020, but during the pandemic, I fueled my love for the game through collections on Netflix and old episodes on YouTube.

Growing up, I watched “Jeopardy!” every weekday with my family. These times were a peaceful departure from the chaos that typically characterized my home. “Jeopardy!” helped my family bond over a mutual love of trivia and engage in healthy competition within the boundaries of the game. Trivia became a source of comfort and a yardstick by which I came to measure myself.

Eventually, I became good at the game. I started to outperform many high school tournament contestants. Then college tournament contestants. Then regular, non-tournament contestants. As my game became stronger, so did my competitive nature. I watched Jennings and Holzhauer with envy. I dreamed of being in their shoes.

Spoiler: I’ve never even tried out for “Jeopardy!”

Beyond watching “Jeopardy!” on my couch, my experience is limited to bar trivia. My colleagues and I formed a team, We Drink and We Know Things. Pre-pandemic, we’d meet weekly to flex our knowledge at The Playwright in Hamden.

This is where we met Matt Amodio. Amodio’s rival team, the Rogue Scholars, also played at the Playwright.

My team is good. Excellent, even. But the Rogue Scholars? They’re stellar.

The DJ, Anthony Apuzzo, would begin the night by introducing the teams. When he announced the Rogue Scholars, the pub would collectively groan. Everyone in the pub watched their chance of taking home the grand prize that night evaporate. We knew we couldn’t win against the Rogue Scholars.

Until we did.

The first time we beat the Rogue Scholars felt like a miracle. The second time was even sweeter. In a few years of playing against them, we only managed to best the Rogue Scholars a handful of times. The victories were rare and meaningful.

I say Amodio is my nemesis because he is such an annoyingly good competitor. However, his team is also what challenged us to become better players. It’s the metric by which we measured our success.

As I watch Matt Amodio dominate the competition on “Jeopardy!” I can’t help but wonder: Could I beat him? And I must admit, I almost certainly could not. I’m good at trivia, but Amodio is on a whole other plane. He is incredible.

But have I won against Matt Amodio? Yes. That, I have.