Dead Pools: Dead reckoning

Do death pools become us?

Almost certainly not, but that hasn't stopped a lot of folks from pitting their predictions of which celebrities will join the dearly departed in the coming year in contests for cold cash or, more often, bragging rights.

The game gained widespread popularity in the 1990s, at about the same time as fantasy sports games. The only real difference: Death-pool participants peruse newspapers and websites for obits rather than box scores.

"We're always waiting to hear those four magic words: 'Sad news from Hollywood ... ,'" said Kelly Bakst, whose Stiffs.com league is expected to have more than 1,000 participants this year.

Popularized nationally by Howard Stern and in the Twin Cities by KQRS Radio's Mike (Stretch) Gelfand, these slightly morbid -- OK, OK, let's go with downright macabre -- lists usually are rife with the aged (the Rev. Billy Graham), the infirm (Ariel Sharon) or both (Fidel Castro).

Dead pools are populated by a litany of octogenarians, the cancer-stricken and most of Sid Hartman's close personal friends, but recent additions have included train wrecks among the young (Amy Winehouse, Lindsay Lohan) and the not so young (Farrah Fawcett). Meanwhile, rappers have lost some cachet as their "gangsta wars" have subsided.

Bakst has a ready response for those who find his Los Angeles-based website in particular and death pools in general a bit beyond the pale.

Indeed, Bakst's site is filled with pages that infuse drollery into everything from this year's deaths ("Arthur C. Clarke/ 2008: Odyssey over") to "rules" such as the "The Woody Herman Phenomenon" (any musician who wins a lifetime-achievement award is a good candidate to cash it in soon).

The rules are generally simple: KQRS' contest, for example, requires that "all picks must have some element of celebrity, fame or political relevance so that an announcement will be mentioned in some credible news source." It also bans any "pick ... currently under a state-mandated death sentence, nor may their celebrity or fame be based solely on their moribund state or terminal illness."

Online -- where these contests are most popular -- the Rotten Dead Pool (deadpool.rotten.com) prohibits participants from murdering anyone on their list, while the Ghoul Pool (www.theghoulpool.com) goes against its name in one sense by barring children from being listed.

No one named Ledger

Scoring varies, sometimes as simple as the number of correct picks. But most contests grade on a curve that takes into account a celebrity's age and cause of death, where he or she ranked on the entrant's list and the singularity of the pick (bonus points for selecting less obvious candidates).

"Marcel Marceau only had one. I don't know if that was someone had done their homework or what we call the Dick Clark Effect, picking someone who's been around a long time, but you haven't heard much from them for a while."

Dead pools have become popular enough to spawn offshoots. Michael Fitzgerald of the San Joaquin (Calif.) County News is plugging a "retail death pool," with Circuit City and Sears atop his list. In the wake of 16-year-old Jamie Lynn Spears' pregnancy, the Kansas City Star proposed a celebrity motherhood pool featuring the likes of Hayden Panettiere and Miley Cyrus.

As players gain more experience, they become more adept, of course. Bakst said that three years ago, one of his players got nine out of 10, and last year one player nailed eight, missing only on Eunice Kennedy Shriver and ex-basketball coach Jack Ramsay.

It could be argued that those who participate in these pools tend to be more cynical. Team names at You Bet Their Life (www.youbettheirlife.com),for example, include Christopher Reeve's Dancecard, Abracadaver and If You're Still Alive ... You're Dead to Me.

One thing's for sure: Participating in these pools "really changes the way you watch TV and follow the news," Bakst said. "I recall a country music show where Chet Atkins was getting a lifetime achievement award, and they said, 'Mr. Atkins was not well enough to attend.' I said, 'Oh, hello' -- like it was this double whammy of a lifetime-achievement award and someone who was too ill to accept it."