On reality television

I have watched more competitive reality television than any human being alive on planet Earth. Like contestants on these shows, I'm prone to exaggeration. I have watched "Survivor," "Big Brother," "Big Brother Canada," "The Amazing Race," "The Traitors" (US, UK and New Zeland), "Australian Survivor," "Koh Lanta," small pieces of "Expedition Robinson," and most recently, "Million Dollar Secret." Shoutout to former Observer Sports Editor Chris Allen for playing a stellar game on that show thus far. It's a massive library of television with a variety of formats and games that make for formulaic comfort in its basic form and peak entertainment at its best. 

I will focus on "Survivor," the game in which you are abandoned on an island and must vote out the very people who will decide who wins the million-dollar prize. It layers starvation on intense social strategy. It's the great equalizer, with no amount of wealth or prestige being enough to make one good at the game. It has been won by office managers and students, cops and car salesmen, firefighters and models. Every time, the audience witnesses something it has never seen before. Sometimes, it makes for brilliant entertainment (Season 37, David vs Goliath), or it falls flat (Season 24, One World). 

I have sent in two tapes to "Survivor"’s casting department, pitching myself as a wannabe diplomat and "strong communicator" with super-fan knowledge and an affable, small-town persona. I'm still waiting for my response, Jesse [Tannenbaum] ("Survivor" casting director). I hope to survive on the island one day, though it has not yet arrived. However, I was given the opportunity to play Notre Dame Survivor, a college version with all the nostalgia and a critical lack of hunger. 

On ND Survivor, I camouflaged my knowledge of the game, lied about knowing one of my friends and even pretended to need glasses much more than I actually do. I leaked information between allies and turned an alliance in on itself while organizing three consecutive blindsides. This caught up to me when I was eliminated at the final 13. One of these blindsides was my friend, Catherine, who I've watched the show with most weeks since I've been here. Her last words exposed my game, giving me a first-hand experience of the drama I have idolized on TV since I was 11.  

Why play this way? I don't know exactly. Villainy is so much more fun. I'm not a liar or a snake (thanks, Anna) in my daily life, so it was an opportunity to use my mind to make "big moves" and "play hard." It was also fun to get my torch snuffed (or torn) after my unanimous vote out. I still think about what I could have done to save my game, as dork-ish as it sounds, but that is a part of the experience, too. After all, out of the 750-plus people who play real "Survivor," only 45 have been declared the Sole Survivor (winner), meaning that hundreds have encountered the same "What if?" scenario. 

However, the gameplay wasn't even the best part. It was being around people who liked the same shows I liked. They wanted to play the same game I did. I spent most of high school convincing my friends back home to give "Survivor" a chance, with none of them having the time (or desire) to take me up on the offer. Now, I am a part of a community of fans, people who enjoy the show together and bond over its brilliance. 

The Tikinime (Goat Nuggets) tribe deserves their flowers for being an incredible group of players. Since the game is still underway, I won't reveal anything, but I wish you all the best of luck. The production crew has been especially entertaining, with Luke's (sorry, "Jeff's") sass standing out as a highlight of my challenge experience. I have one practice run under my belt before I get to set foot in Fiji, which is a delusional dream I hope will happen in the coming years. I recommend that everyone reading this applies for ND Survivor, fan or not, as the skills you practice last far beyond the mock version of the show in which we participate. It's a community of friends with a layer of competition and a reminder of why we play these games: to test ourselves and play a human game.