Podcast Script

Welcome back to the LearnedLeague Study Guide podcast, your quick post-match companion to turning close misses into solid future gets.

I’m glad you’re here. In this episode, we’re walking through Match Day 9 from season 107. As always, we’ll keep things tight and focused so you can listen on a commute, a walk, or while you’re making dinner.

If you want to go deeper on anything we mention, all the detailed study notes, links, and extra resources are waiting for you at llstudyguide.com. Just look for the notes for this match day in the show notes on the website.

Let’s jump right in with Question 1.

Question 1 asked: In horse racing, an exacta is a bet on two horses to finish first and second in that exact order. What less common wager also involves two horses, paying out if the two horses finish first and second in either order, despite its name confusingly seeming to suggest the number five?

The correct answer is: quinella.

So the key here is understanding the difference between an exacta and a quinella. An exacta demands the exact order: you have to say which horse comes first and which comes second. With a quinella, you’re still picking two specific horses, but you win as long as they’re the top two in any order. First and second, or second and first, it doesn’t matter.

The fun twist is that “quinella” sounds like it should have something to do with the number five, because of that “quin” at the start, like quintet or quintuplets. But in horse racing, it has nothing to do with five. It’s just this specific two-horse, either-order wager.

A nice way to lock this in is with the contrast: exacta equals exact order, quinella equals either order. If you also know trifecta, where you pick the first three in exact order, and superfecta, which is four in exact order, that helps you remember that quinella is off that numeric pattern and stands alone.

Adjacent ideas you might want to anchor from this one: first, the general family of horse racing bet types—exacta, quinella, trifecta, superfecta, and so on. Those come up a lot in trivia. Second, the idea of parimutuel betting, where all the bets go into a pool and payoffs depend on how the pool is divided among the winning bets. And third, more broadly, gambling vocabulary across different sports—things like moneyline, spread, parlay. For a quick glossary and some examples, check the study notes on the website.

Alright, let’s move from the racetrack to the art world for Question 2.

Question 2 asked: “I was a woman, Jewish, a widow, a damn good painter, thank you, and a little too independent.” This 1973 quote came from what leader of the Abstract Expressionist movement, who at age 65 was finally receiving her first solo New York museum exhibition, at the Whitney Museum of American Art?

The correct answer is: Lee Krasner.

Lee Krasner was a major Abstract Expressionist painter, but for a long time she was overshadowed by her husband, Jackson Pollock. That quote captures her frustration and her confidence at the same time. By 1973, she’d been painting for decades, but she was only then getting her first solo New York museum show, at the Whitney, at age 65.

The question gives you a bunch of helpful hooks: woman, Jewish, a widow, and a leader in Abstract Expressionism. If your brain went to Pollock, de Kooning, or Rothko, the key is to note the clearly female voice and the fact that she’s described as a widow. Pollock had died in 1956, so that lines up with Krasner as a widowed painter still in the Abstract Expressionist circle.

In terms of learning, it’s worth remembering Krasner not just as “Pollock’s wife,” but as a central New York School artist in her own right, whose reputation rose much later. Museum retrospectives and big solo shows like that Whitney exhibition often mark turning points in how an artist is valued historically.

Adjacent topics to pin down from this: one, the broader Abstract Expressionist movement—names like Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko, Barnett Newman, and where Lee Krasner and other women like Helen Frankenthaler fit in. Two, the role of New York museums like the Whitney and MoMA in shaping postwar American art history. And three, the pattern of women artists and artists from marginalized backgrounds being recognized late in life or posthumously. If you want examples of her work and a quick overview of her career, check the study notes on our website.

Now let’s shift from the gallery to the concert hall and the rock arena with Question 3.

Question 3 asked: What word links Franz Liszt’s famous set of nineteen piano works beginning in 1846, George Gershwin’s Jazz Age classic from 1924, and the UK’s top-selling single and legendary rock epic from 1975?

The correct answer is: rhapsody.

This is a classic “find the linking word” question. Once you identify any two of the works, the answer really falls into place.

Franz Liszt wrote a set of pieces called the Hungarian Rhapsodies, starting around 1846—virtuosic piano works inspired by Hungarian folk music. George Gershwin’s 1924 Jazz Age masterpiece is Rhapsody in Blue, a hybrid of classical and jazz that premiered in New York and has become one of the most iconic American concert pieces. And the 1975 legendary rock epic is Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, which became the UK’s top-selling single and is still one of the most famous rock songs ever written.

The shared word here, rhapsody, is used across classical music, jazz-inflected concert music, and rock. A rhapsody, in musical terms, usually means a free-form, highly expressive piece with contrasting sections. And if you think about Bohemian Rhapsody—the ballad opening, the operatic middle, the hard rock section at the end—it really fits that idea of a piece that’s emotional and episodic, not locked into a strict form.

To make this type of question easier in the future, it helps to recognize the titles themselves. If you know even one of these—say, Rhapsody in Blue—you can often infer the others. This is a nice example of trivia drawing connections across genres.

Adjacent topics from here: one, know a few signature Liszt titles, like the Hungarian Rhapsodies and maybe Liebesträume. Two, anchor Gershwin with Rhapsody in Blue and also works like An American in Paris and the opera Porgy and Bess. And three, in rock history, Bohemian Rhapsody is a cornerstone: Queen, Freddie Mercury, and the 1970s shift toward more elaborate studio productions. For more listening suggestions and a bit of context on the rhapsody form, check the study notes on the website.

Let’s leave music for now and head up to northern Europe for Question 4.

Question 4 asked: The historical Duchy of Schleswig (locally Herzogtum Schleswig or Hertugdømmet Slesvig), formally established in the 15th century, covered territory that now lies across the modern border between what two present-day countries?

The correct answer is: Denmark and Germany.

Schleswig is a classic border region between Denmark and Germany. The local names in the question are a clue: Herzogtum is German, Hertugdømmet is Danish or at least Scandinavian. That mix of language hints that you’re right on a cultural and political border.

Historically, you often see Schleswig paired with Holstein, as in Schleswig-Holstein. This area was a hot spot in 19th-century European politics, especially with the Schleswig Wars, where Denmark and the German states fought over control. The Second Schleswig War in 1864, between Denmark and Prussia plus Austria, is one of those conflicts that reshaped borders in the run-up to German unification.

Today, the territory that used to be the Duchy of Schleswig is split. The northern part belongs to Denmark, and the southern part is in Germany, in the modern state of Schleswig-Holstein. It’s a good example of how historical duchies and kingdoms don’t always map neatly onto contemporary borders.

Adjacent things to connect here: first, the broader Schleswig-Holstein Question—a diplomatic headache in the 19th century that shows up in European history questions. Second, the pattern of borderland regions with mixed language and culture, like Alsace-Lorraine between France and Germany, or South Tyrol between Italy and the German-speaking world. And third, the idea that modern Germany’s northern border is with Denmark, not just the more commonly-discussed neighbors like France and Poland. The study notes on our site include maps and a quick rundown of the wars if you want to cement this geography.

Next, let’s go back a couple centuries and over to English literature for Question 5.

Question 5 asked: What is the name of the titular “Foundling” in Henry Fielding’s comic picaresque novel and social satire from 1749, which was adapted to a Best Picture-winning 1963 film starring Albert Finney?

The correct answer is: Tom Jones.

The full book title is The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. It’s a big, sprawling, comic novel by Henry Fielding, published in 1749. It follows Tom, a foundling raised by a country squire, through all kinds of misadventures, romances, and social situations. It’s one of the foundational English novels and a great example of the picaresque style—lots of episodes, travel, colorful side characters, and a roguish lead.

The question gives you three anchors: author Henry Fielding, year 1749, and the 1963 film adaptation that won the Oscar for Best Picture. That movie, also called Tom Jones, starred Albert Finney and was famous for its energetic, slightly chaotic style and bawdy humor—very much in the spirit of the novel.

If this one didn’t land for you, it’s worth locking in the basic association: Henry Fielding equals Tom Jones and Joseph Andrews. When you see “foundling” plus mid-18th-century English social satire, Tom Jones should pop to mind.

Some adjacent points to file away: one, the early English novel in general—names like Fielding, Samuel Richardson, and later Jane Austen. Two, the literary term “picaresque,” which you’ll see applied not just to Tom Jones but also to works like Don Quixote or, in a later era, even to some 20th-century novels. And three, that 1963 film is one of those Best Picture winners that quiz writers love to bring up, especially in lists or matching games. For a short plot summary and a reminder of the main characters, check the study notes in the show notes.

Finally, let’s finish with a trip to the early space age and a bit of pop culture tech for Question 6.

Question 6 asked: A #1 instrumental hit by The Tornados and a late-1970s game console by Coleco were named after the first active communications satellite, launched in July 1962 and silent since February 1963 though still orbiting Earth. What portmanteau name do they share?

The correct answer is: Telstar.

Telstar is a classic space-age name. The original Telstar was a communications satellite launched in 1962, at the height of early space race excitement. It relayed some of the first live television signals across the Atlantic. It stopped functioning in early 1963, but the satellite is still up there in orbit.

The word itself is a portmanteau: “tel” from telecommunications or telephone, and “star” to evoke space. That catchy, futuristic sound made it a perfect brand name in the 1960s and 70s.

Right after the satellite’s launch, the British band The Tornados released an instrumental track called Telstar, with a very space-age, electronic feel. It became a number one hit in both the UK and the US. Then, in the late 1970s, Coleco used the name for a line of home video game consoles, mostly Pong-style systems, riding that same futuristic association.

Telstar actually shows up in a few other cultural corners too, like the famous black-and-white paneled Adidas soccer ball design used in the 1970 World Cup, also called the Telstar. So you can associate Telstar with satellites, early electronic music, video game consoles, and even sports equipment.

Adjacent things to learn from this: one, early communications satellites in general—names like Telstar, Syncom, and later Intelsat—and the way they changed television and global communication. Two, early video game history: companies like Atari, Coleco, and Magnavox, and the pre-Nintendo era of home consoles. And three, how space-age branding in the 1960s and 70s showed up in product names, music, and design. If you want to listen to the original Tornados track or read more about the satellite’s mission, check the study notes on our website.

And that wraps up Match Day 9.

Today we moved from betting windows to museum walls, from concert halls to borderlands, then into classic English fiction and out into orbit with Telstar. Even if you missed a couple of these in the match, the key is that now each answer has a little story attached—something to hook onto next time it shows up in a quiz, a crossword, or another LearnedLeague season.

If you’d like to review anything in more detail, or follow links to articles, maps, listening suggestions, or videos, head over to llstudyguide.com and look for the full study notes for this match day. All the resources we mentioned are collected there so you don’t have to go hunting.

Thanks for listening, and for making time to turn those “I’ve heard of that” moments into “I know this one” answers. Come back for the next match day breakdown, and we’ll keep building that broad, flexible trivia toolkit together.

Until next time, good luck in your matches and happy studying.