For a group of friends seeking to counter the social stereotype associated with Cambridge on prime time national television, “The Geeks” was perhaps not the most subtle or appropriate choice of team name.

Joel Winton, Alex Campsie and Nim Sukumar, aka “The Geeks”, are one of eight teams of three who took part in the BBC’s new primetime adventure game-show, Dropzone. The format of the show, they explain, is “a 48 hour race which sees teams battle it out in a range of mental and physical challenges. Each week one team gets eliminated, with the other teams progressing to the next location.” Produced by Gary Hunter, the brains behind Top Gear and Last Man Standing, and presented by Steve Jones, the production sees contestants compete in a variety of different locations across the globe, beginning in Scotland and finishing with a final in Vietnam.

 Filmed over the summer and due to air in January, the team’s TV debut was apparently the product of Alex and Joel messing around on the internet in the absence of first year History exams. Skipping Fez on the evening of the BBC’s application deadline, the duo filled in a form online with their characteristic irony and “whimsical” humour. They explain, “that was probably our best moment, from there it was all downhill really.”

There were one or two bent truths they admit. As well as exaggerating interests and hobbies, the trio played on “Nim’s somewhat contrived, deprived inner-city kid image. We tried to play up to what we thought was the BBC’s diversity policy.” In fact, he went to Manchester Grammar School (which had three fewer entrants to Cambridge than Eton last year) and lives on the same road as Wayne Rooney, or so he says. “Actually, trying to be diverse probably just made us look a bit weird, in the end we came to the conclusion that the BBC just wanted us to fulfil the stereotypical Cambridge student role.”

Despite the boys’ best efforts, they fear that they ended up fulfilling the stereotype in every way. “We overanalysed every task on the show. We spent far too long unpacking the questions and trying to second guess what was required of us in the challenges.”

 Each episode will follow the teams for their 48-hours of ‘challenges’, the essence of the competition. But the two-day sessions proved difficult, requiring constant filming with few opportunities for retakes. There were limits to what more the team could tell me about the show itself. “We irrevocably waived all moral rights when we signed the contracts, to the point where if we’d come up with some genius idea during filming, the BBC would have owned it.” “You’ll have to watch and see mate, but seriously though, it’s all about Dropzone”, gleams Nim. It is clear that the trio had a lot of fun filming.

All three elements of “The Geeks” are now keen on careers in television, or at the least in the public eye. Joel is keen to launch a Louis Theroux-style career in investigative journalism off the back of the programme. So far, he acknowledges that he has failed. He explains, “I’m too funny for Saturday night telly really. I’m probably too funny for The Footlights”. He has also used the programme as a catalyst “for beginning a reclusive lifestyle” which, according to Nim, means that there is now “only a thin line between him and the Sidney Mathmos”. And Nim should know.

Nim, on the other hand, has used Dropzone “as a platform” for his JCR presidency campaign, modelling himself as “the Obama of Sidney”. Less than 24 hours after deciding to run for the position he had already been called in by the Senior Tutor for his “tactics”, bending and probably breaking every JCR election campaign rule in existence. But, he tries to convince me that this expertise is a result of the “nuanced impression of the media” that has resulted from this summer’s adventures. Should this not work out he continues, “one of the female contestants on the show also said I could be an eye model, so that is definitely something I am going to look into.” His enthusiasm is hard to argue with.

Alex, as a self proclaimed “maverick”, claims that he’s not going to watch the programme as he suspects he will come across badly as a result of his angry outbursts during filming. Asked to expand on this he clarifies, “I may have told the presenter to go fuck himself at one point”, before breaking off into laughter. Whilst he admits there were low points, he is keen to draw attention to an episode, in which he was told by a local girl (in broken English), “you are very very handsome.” He will, along with the others, use the programme to justify making “t-shirts with the group’s faces printed on them” to wear to Cindies.

They will also, they tell me enthusiastically, get a Wikipedia entry and fan page set up. Here, I am unsure whether the trio quite understand the idea that a fan page deteriorates into pure narcissism if not founded by someone outside of the group itself. Luckily for them, in the editing of this article, a fan was born to the trio, a fan more than happy to set up any form of ‘page’, supportive, congratulatory or even adulatory.