I first met Ray D’Arcy circa 1997. He was the fresh-faced presenter of RTÉ’s schools quizshow Blackboard Jungle. I was the sullen-faced teenager leading the team of St Mary’s College, Naas, Co Kildare. My hair was an alarming shade of strawberry blonde, thanks to a couple of frantic efforts with the box bleach to get the roots to look a little less orange. My hands were sweaty. My nose piercing hole was closing up by the second. My heart was thumping. I was there largely against my will.
You see, I never intended to make the team. Qualifying as an individual for Blackboard Jungle involved taking a general knowledge test overseen by researchers who travelled out to the various schools. I remember taking the test as clear as day, sitting at one of the long benches in the school canteen. I wasn’t there out of a noble urge to represent St Mary’s in trivia. I was there to get out of class, most likely double PE or history. Never in my wildest dreams did I consider the consequences of doing well on the test.
Fast forward a few weeks or maybe months and I’d forgotten all about Blackboard Jungle. Picture the scene: I’m called out of class. All sorts of thoughts race through my brain as I make my way to the principal’s office. Have my parents won the Lotto and are whisking me off to Spain for a holiday? Have my parents died in a car crash and I’m about to learn I’m an orphan? Which of course would be horrific and terrible, but before I had fully matured and before my prefrontal cortex had completely formed, I had always thought there was a tinge of tragic allure to orphanhood. I would get through it with stoicism and maybe I could get a third ear piercing to help with the grief.
Imagine my dismay then when I reached Sister Anne’s office, arriving not to tales of familial triumph or tragedy but to the catastrophic news that not only had I aced the Blackboard Jungle test, I was going to be the team captain.
‘You need to pull it down, your whole bottom is on show,’ the woman said. ‘It’s a disgrace’
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With the benefit of hindsight, I can appreciate that Sister Anne was, and is, a lovely woman. However, to a 1997 teenager in maroon tights she was terrifying, and ruled the school with a tiny and formidable fist. It would not have been my modus operandi to disobey her. My fear of going on television trumped my fear of Sister Anne, though, and I refused point blank to accept the team captain role. The very idea of my peers watching me on Blackboard Jungle filled me with horror. What if I made a show of myself? What if a boy saw me?
My strike didn’t last long. Calls were placed to parents. Stern words were had. Who did I think I was letting the school down and jeopardising the chance to win the Blackboard Jungle minibus? I was shamed into submission.
In my memory Ray D’Arcy was dapper in a suit when I met him on the set that day, but internet searches reveal that he dressed casually for the presenting role. He shook my hand, wringing with sweat, and told me not to be nervous. My recollection of the taping ordeal itself is patchy. We won our first episode, which meant we had to stay on to record a second. More torture, although hopefully the win had boosted my self-esteem somewhat.
Any ego I had was swiftly crushed during that second taping, though, as we answered incorrectly on a pivotal question: What county is Kinnegad in? I knew deep down it was Westmeath. My dad was from Westmeath. My team-mates were less sure, though, and we dithered on a few answers before I, as team captain, blurted out “Meath.” We were out. No minibus for us. The Sony Walkman consolation prize was cold comfort amid the subsequent school-wide viewing party and the jeering whispers of “Where’s Kinnegad?” Luckily, teenage girls are swift to glom on to a new drama and my Blackboard Jungle fame was quickly forgotten.
The next time I met Ray D’Arcy was back on television, this time for his Saturday night show to celebrate the publication of the very first Complete Aisling book. He and his team were immensely kind in giving me and my co-author Sarah Breen such a huge platform. Ray continued to champion us and has played such an important role in the cultural landscape of this country. However, woe betide him if he ever makes me go on television again.
