Counting Down (pt3), Day Two

So after ten days break, some confidence from previous wins, and several more hours practice in the tank, I was ready to go again.

On arrival at the studio reception, I got chatting with the new contestants, and didn't feel particularly great about my chances today. First up was a young lad who had arrived back from a lengthy tour of South America just two days before filming, having adjusted his schedule to get back for Countdown. I figured that my journey of 140 miles paled into insignificance now, and that he must be serious about his chances of doing well. Also on the list for the morning was a young English tutor from Loughborough - again, assumptions made about his abilities for Countdown, and my new-found confidence was lurching a little.

Game 4 was a turgid affair, where I gained an early lead, and tried to stretch away with chancy words (ok, made up words then) that were disallowed - in fact I had three zeroed word rounds in this game, as well as a zeroed numbers round.  So, with four zeroes on the card, my score of 76 was actually a little more respectable than it appeared on face value - I could easily have picked up another 18 points with safe words.

After the game, a review of the leaderboard suggested that I only needed to score around 50 points in the next game, without even needing to win it, to move up into the #8 seed position and secure a quarter final place. That brought a whole new world of potential problems to near reality, and would give me a logistical headache with our travel plans for Glasgow on Wednesday.

The schedule of play for the finals was two QFs to be played on Tuesday afternoon - #1 v #8, and #2 v #7, and then the other two on Wednesday morning, with the semi's and final to follow through Wednesday afternoon, ending at 6pm.   I figured that if I landed in the #8 or #7 seed position, I would stay over in Manchester on Monday night, play the QF on Tuesday afternoon, then drive home. Rebecca and I would then leave early on Wednesday morning to either drive to Manchester for the semi final, or straight on up to Glasgow, dependent on performance in the QF. The nightmare scenario would be if I worked my way up to #6 seed and have to play QF on Wednesday morning, but  as the #6 spot was occupied by an octochamp, I had some way to go before I could worry about that.

So - there was a plan, and I could relax a little and focus back on Game 5, which came and went with no real issues, although I did feel that I played a little better than game 4, and I was now 5/8ths of the way to octochampdom, and had confirmed my QF berth.  English teacher up next for game 6 - would that be the end?

Game 6 would prove to be one of my better games with several maxes scored, an opponent pulverised, and no zeroes for a change! A score of 99 and I was gutted not to get the conundrum to finally break the 100 point barrier.   Six games won, a place in the quarter finals secure, and octochampdom looking like a realistic target.

Game 7 was against a lady who's husband was Mark Davies, an octochamp and #2 seed finalist in the previous series. In the green room I didn't get the sense that she carried the same confidence that Mark clearly had, and despite a decent game, that proved to be the case.  I was disappointed that 'vaseline' was disallowed due to it being a proper noun, particularly when I found out afterward that it was indeed legitimate as it could be spelled with a small v - that caused some interesting debate on the Countdown forum.

I now found myself one game away from being an octochamp and knowing I had a finals place to come, and started to look at the scoring - at this point I realised just how poorly I had scored compared to the other finalists. Clearly I had run pretty well with the opposition I'd come up against, and had not needed to play massively well to secure victories - this left me adrift as a low scorer on the leaderboard, and if I were to overtake Jordan Barker as #6 seed, I would need to score 130 in my 8th game - highly unlikely given the absence of any 100+ scores thus far.  However, taking the positive spin for a moment - being the #7 seed would mean my QF would be on Tuesday rather than Wednesday, which would make things far easier when considering Glasgow, unless I managed to win the QF of course!  My biggest fear was a very low scoring 8th win could leave me as the lowest scoring octochamp of all time - something to be avoided, and certainly helped to focus the mind ahead of game 8.

With a touch or irony given my conversation with Nick at the end of game 1, my 8th game would be against a professional poker player - Dan Bland.  This was far and away my best game, with 37 points in the numbers rounds, and my lowest letters round scoring 6 (aside from a zero when I tried to stretch to a 7 with 'fumiers').  A successful conundrum round put my score over 100 for the first time - chuffed with that, and also relieved to be confirmed in the #7 seed position for the QFs.

I am a Countdown Octochamp. Not bad given that my ambition since the early 90s had been to get on the show and win a teapot!

• Game 4 vs Sam Steele
• Game 5 vs Gary Cohen
• Game 6 vs Jamie Smith
• Game 7 vs Ann-Marie Davies
• Game 8 vs Dan Bland

Up next, a Quarter Final against #2 seed Gerry Tynan, to be aired on Thursday 4th June. This will undoubtedly be my biggest test to date - Gerry scored 100+ in 6 of his 8 wins, with 91 and 99 in the other 2.  Underdog doesn't come close to describing it!

More to follow.....

Counting Down (pt2), Into the hot seat.

Games one and two came and went and game three was up next, and I was called for final prep. Gulp!

It all got a little awkward for a few moments as there seemed to be an expectation that we contestants knew what to do and where to go, and I felt a bit silly asking, but was duly guided back to the green room for a few moments, and then on to the dreaded challenger's hot seat.

All my life, I've had a fear of talking to large groups and have often struggled when presenting to a room full of people I don't know. A lack of self confidence and elements of shyness were not the best mix when I sat in the chair and saw seven TV cameras staring me down! Knowing that there were going to more than half a dozen people watching this on TV at some point scared me witless. I just hadn't prepared for this feeling at all, and had a huge sense of rising panic - for a moment I actually wondered if I would be able to continue, such were the nerves.

With make-up ladies doing last minute touch ups, and sound engineers fitting microphones, it was all a little hectic on set - probably for the best as it was a distraction. And then we were ready. Oh, hold on.... Floor Producer - "can we change the challenger's shirt please - bad camera test". Oh crap - remember the bit in the applicants pack about not wearing stripey shirts? I was wearing a stripey shirt. My case from the green room appeared next to me and I was asked to pick another shirt - well, no way on earth was I changing my shirt in front of cameras and setting myself up for future out-takes, so took the easy route and stuck on the jumper I'd travelled in.

Clothes sorted, mic sorted, head powdered - just needed to stick my reading glasses on now. I wear glasses for close up stuff such as reading, laptop, etc, but cannot see a thing beyond three feet away when wearing them as the world goes as blurry as it does after a bottle of whisky. This didn't help in the TV studio where I needed to see both close up and distance, and didn't want to be donning and removing specs every two minutes as my hands were shaking so badly. I elected to go without - I could cope with close up if I squinted a little, and given the intensity of the lighting, squinting was the order of the day anyway.   It felt like a universe of stars above, with a couple of pretty severe lights shining on the contestants chairs - like Mastermind but bigger!

Camera's rolling, lights up, the monitor showing the opening credits, and Dudley (the warm up guy) drumming up the audience applause. This was like sitting at the top of the Pepsi Max Big One at Blackpool, staring out over the abyss, knowing that the huge drop was coming - heart in mouth, and sweaty palms.... shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit here we go!

Len Hughes was the reigning champion having beaten David Pooley the day before. Nick Hewer's intro for Len was pretty harsh - basically saying that he had only won because David had messed it up. Before I knew it, my intro interview and come and gone. A bit of chat about being a swimming ref, and then the game started.

Now I was desperate to not go behind too early as I think I would have just fallen apart - I really need to stay at least level during the opening rounds until I could gain some composure and get over the panic. The panic was know longer a rising panic - it was pretty much all consuming now. I managed to level the first two letters rounds which helped calm me down, and I always fancy my chances in the numbers rounds..... but it felt like disaster had struck when stared at my very first set of numbers and couldn't make head nor tail of them, and didn't even manage to get anything close enough to declare. It was such a relief to hear Len declare nothing before it came to me!

After the break, the game came much easier, and I spotted a couple of nice 8s, and won a numbers round to take a decent lead into the end game, which ultimately was won well before the end.

That was it - I'd done it, and achieved a lifelong ambition to be a Countdown champion and to win a coveted Countdown teapot. Katharine was peeved that after all this, my contribution to the household was an ornament, rather than the thousands of pounds on offer from other gameshows!

My next problem was no longer one of panic - I'd overcome that and settled down. My problem now was the headache that was growing out of tiredness, from not wearing my glasses, and from the ridiculously bright lights.

Next up was Patricia Hill. This game came and went in a blur and I was never in trouble, but by the end the headache was becoming a significant problem, and with all the adrenalin of the first game gone, I was thoroughly exhausted. I don't just mean a little weary from a long day after a sleepless night - I was having real difficulty focussing my vision, and the letters and numbers I was writing were moving around on the page. I totally under-estimated how tough it was going to be to play multiple games back to back like this.

Next up, a young maths student, and Mason Duke was a name I recognised from Apterous. Clearly this was going to be the end of my run, but I had enjoyed it immensely, despite feeling pretty rotten by this stage. The first two letters games saw me drop 14-0 behind, and it was looking pretty desperate. If this guy was going to destroy me in the letters rounds, what chance would I have given that he is a maths student and should crush me in the numbers rounds? It seemed though that he did not cope well with the pressure as he was unable to declare anything in the first numbers game, and I had a solution, albeit 3 away...... until oops, I'd mis-declared my result. He then declared nothing in the second numbers game too, and I found a 2 away result, although missed a really easy solution.

It was a poor game that came down to Mason having a spectacular falling apart. In the final numbers game he had not written his solution down, and then proceeded to state an incorrect number when calling out his method. Now it was plain to everyone that this was nothing more than a verbal slip as the numbers he required were obvious, however the filming was paused and the situation was sent upstairs to the production team for an adjudication - their decision being to disallow Mason's solution on the grounds that he hadn't written down his method, and had then mis-declared. I declared my method  (exactly the same method as Mason's was supposed to have been), and that put me out of reach and meant the Conundrum round was superfluous.

So that was it - three games, three wins. Totally unexpected, and felt great, despite feeling like I had been several rounds with Mike Tyson by this stage! At least the filming crew were getting a week off now, which meant that my next round would not be until Monday 23rd March.

There was some discussion at this stage about my availability for the Quarter Finals. I needed five wins to get a place in the last 8, and that was now a growing possibility. I would need to consider arrangements for getting home from Manchester and then straight to Glasgow with Rebecca - this was going to be a challenge if it occurred!  But, still at least two more challengers to get through yet, and not going to count any chickens.

Detailed recaps of the first three games can be found here, courtesy of the 4cCountdown forum site.

• Game 1 vs Len Hughes
• Game 2 vs Patricia Hill
• Game 3 vs Mason Duke

It was after 6pm, and I had the rush hour traffic to contend with, and a drive home from Manchester to Droitwich and bed, ready for an early start at the work in the morning. I felt like I could sleep right through to March 23rd!!

More to follow....

Counting Down (pt1)

This blog had been unintentionally mothballed, not for any reason other than I had lost interest in writing entries, however after recent events, I had a desire to post something that I could read in time as a reminder of what's been an adventure.

In my opinion, Countdown has become part of British culture since its inception in 1982. Just about everybody who's ever watched TV has seen or at least heard of Countdown, and many will have played along from the safety of their living rooms.  In 1990 and 1992, I applied for a place on the show and reached audition stage, but failed to get through both times - at that point I had given up hope of ever getting a place.

In the ensuing years, I would watch occasionally and play along, and usually do ok against the majority of contestants, but generally fall over against the better players. I was always somewhat in awe of the prodigiously clever youngsters that would come along with an extraordinary vocabulary and a ridiculous ability to spot mysterious words.

In late 2014, I happened to come in early from work one afternoon to find Anthony watching Countdown and joined him on the sofa. After a couple of rounds of out-scoring the contestants, we got talking about my failed attempts to qualify, which ended up with me filing a new application. Two weeks later, I had an audition which was now over the phone rather than face to face... this was significantly less nerve racking, and words and numbers came much easier to me - in fact, barring one round, I maxed the audition which led to an invitation to appear!

I was told I would be going to Salford in around 6 weeks to record - it later turned out to be over 3 months to wait. Whilst this was disappointing at the time, it turned out to do me a huge favour with loads of extra time to learn, rehearse, and practise. I joined up with Apterous, an on-line gaming site that follows the Countdown format, and is frequented by many past champions, and contains a membership made up mostly of avid Countdown aficionados.  Several hours per week on Apterous, coupled with closely following the TV game and I was as well prepared for my recording as I ever could be.

The applicants pack arrived in the post, and much to the amusement of Katharine and myself, I had to familiarise myself with a number of contestant requirements, including never asking for numbers by saying "Can I get...", rather it has to be "Can I have..."; not allowed to say "please" after each letter selection, only after the first and last letters; ensuring correct pronunciation of "consonant".  There were others which I can't recall now, but these 'rules' were mandated due to viewer complaints! Some people clearly don't have enough in life to worry about if they spend their daytime afternoons judging TV contestants by their use of language and grammar and taking the trouble to complain having been offended by innocent errors.

With further rules around what shirts could and couldn't be worn, I had to start digging through the wardrobe for shirts that weren't pale colours and were without stripes, checks, patterns, or logos - that was a challenge!

The pack also included filming dates - I would get to play three games (if I survived) on 11th March, and a further five on 23rd March if I were able to sustain a run. If I were to make finals, they would be filmed on 24th and 25th March. This was a problem as I was due to take Rebecca to Glasgow for an International Para Swimming meet on the 25th, ready for a 7am start on the 26th. If by some fluke, I were to make the finals, I would be stuck. I had two choices - pull out and ask for a later filming date in the next series, or go ahead with the proposed dates and take the risk of making finals. I chose to be realistic - there was no chance of me making finals, and I really didn't want to wait any longer, so agreed to go ahead.

So March 11th arrived - it was a Wednesday morning that followed a sleepless Tuesday night, and I needed to be at the studios in Salford by 09:30. Full of fear of the morning commuter jams through the roadworks on the M6, 5am was the departure time (commonly known as ohmygoditsearly o'clock). Clearly nobody was commuting that day, and I arrived in Manchester before 7am and had two hours to kill. Subway do nice breakfast subs.

Sat in reception from 8.30, and chatting with the other new contestants - the nerves were coming on strong, particularly when the reigning champ (David Pooley) arrived and was so cool and confident. Meet and greet at 9.30, and taken to the green room - an observation at that point... the green room was actually green in most aspects. Quick coffee, and confirmation of the stuff Nick would be talking to me about, then off to make up.

I was to be entering the fray for the third show of the day, with five shows filmed in total throughout the day. The contestants for the first two shows hit the make up chair first, and were both done and dusted (literally) in less than two minutes.... my powdering took a little longer for some reason.

Now I discovered the benefit of playing the third game of the day rather than the first - I got to sit in the audience for the first two games and gain some experience of the atmosphere and of the proceedings in general. Nerves were killing me at this point, and were made worse by the fact that I played against the players in those two games, and came nowhere near their scores - this did not feel like it was going well at all. I was looking at letters and numbers from the audience seat, and I may as well have been trying to decipher ancient Martian.

Games one and two came and went and game three was up next, and I was called for final prep. Gulp!

More to follow............