35 people competed in the event, with men outnumbering women by a ratio of four to one. (I was Contestant #19.) I watched my fellow competitors cram names from the worlds of hockey, football, basketball, and baseball -- among other sports -- in the Sky Box, where we'd gathered beforehand. My instinct told me to brush up on foreign athletes, so I memorized names like Francois Beauchemin and Wladimir Klitschko. It didn't work, for I was eliminated in the first round. (I tripped up on Yunel Escobar. I suppose that's what I get for not being an Atlanta Braves fan.)
While I didn't have my heart set on winning the grand prize -- a VIP party at ESPN Zone for six people, a $250 gift card, a sports almanac, and a trophy -- I was disappointed in my early exit. I felt like the stereotypical woman who knew nothing sports ... and it didn't help the feminist cause that by the fourth round, no woman was left standing. What really left me frustrated, though, was the "difficult" names were ones I knew how to spell, like Dahntay Jones and A.J. Pierzynski. After a little more than an hour, a winner was crowned when Contestant #10 correctly spelled Paul Posluszny.
I wanted to lift my spirits, so I hung around the bar to watch the Cleveland Cavaliers - Orlando Magic game in the Screening Room. As a die-hard basketball fan, I joined dozens of strangers in cheering for Dwight Howard and LeBron James. (When it comes to the NBA playoffs, I'm rooting for any team except the Los Angeles Lakers.) When I wasn't sitting in awe of spectacular plays or yelling about botched calls, I was stuffing my face with a Zone Cheesesteak (beef sautéed with mushrooms and onions, topped with provolone cheese) and a side order of French fries.
Misspelling an athlete's name may not have cost me anything, but it came at the expense of my pride. Nevertheless, I enjoyed bonding with my fellow sports junkies for a few hours (and $17). With any luck, I'll redeem myself at next year's competition.
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