The Big Bust, er, Big Break

Maybe I’m just bitter, but The Big Break (I or II) is a Big Bust in my opinion.

As I say, I may be bitter: Three years ago, I approached a television production studio with an idea for a golf reality show in which average Joe Golfers would compete in odd golf-skill events. I was told that (a) the reality show buzz was dying down, and (b) that it would all depend so much on getting the right sorts of personalities that it would be well-nigh impossible to do.

Well, lo and behold, 6 months later, Rick Smith tells me about his new show in the works. I have it on good authority that The Golf Channel–which produces everything in-house–had this show in development for a while before I came up with my little idea.

Oh, and the reality show buzz has not, unfortunately, died down. It’s grown instead to something akin to a swarm of angry, drunken killer bees.

The real kicker is that they did their version WITHOUT the great personalities. I mean come on, Rick Smith is photogenic and pleasant and all, but scintillating banter is not his forte (on-air, anyway). And who exactly is the woman who is a head taller and even more dull than Smith? Why, pray tell, does he need a fluffer?

The contestants are OK, but they move from one test to another with the enthusaism of under-tipped, hungover bag-boys.

Quite frankly, I’d rather have seen less proficient golfers playing for stakes we can all relate to. Give them all new gear, including decked-out golf carts, and then have them compete. Losers in each task lose their equipment little by little. In fact, they’re forced to toss their offending clubs into a lake or break them over their knees. Last guy with a club intact gets a replacement set. And maybe a date with a cart-girl.

Nothing against Smith (I’m looking forward to coming to Treetops again, Rick), but maybe we could get Gary McCord to mince around poking fun and offering impromptu wagers to spice things up a bit.

And lose the fluffer.