I applied for the quiz show to get bragging rights over my pub quiz teammates. Then I found myself sweating in the famous chair. What had I done?
In all honesty, I have no idea why I decided to go on Mastermind. I love pub quizzes, sure, and I’m good at them. Pre-Covid, I was part of a crack team called Quizlamic State, who regularly took home first prize in our local one. As team coordinator, I developed a reputation for ruthlessness, brutally ejecting friends and, on one occasion, my boyfriend, if I thought they were underperforming. At university, I was picked for our college’s University Challenge team, though we didn’t get on the show: too boring, apparently. (The producers picked a team of historical re-enactors and archers from a different college.)
All of this stuff is what I say when people ask why I went on the show. But if I’m being honest, I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I do most things. I’m an incredibly impulsive person; always have been. To paraphrase Kim Kardashian West’s reply when asked why she filmed the sex tape that made her famous: because I was bored, and I felt like it.
