Dream Job

Upon catching last week’s episode of ESPN’s reality-show-attempt

“Dream Job,” I found myself to be very intrigued.

Initially, my response was one of fear.

Why, dear God, would my beloved Mecca of athletics participate

in the reality show epidemic?

Do they not understand that shows like “Survivor” and “Big

Brother” and “My Big Fat Obnoxious Fianc�e” make up all that

is the creativity-sucking, brain-damage causing, chew my dreams up

and spit them onto the Ebola-filled diary of complete lack of

reality that is our present-day plague?

No “reality” show has ever given me a glimpse of real life.

When am I ever going to be on an island with a handful of naked

fat men playing relay games or having bug-eating contests?

When will I ever live with five beautiful college students and

“work” a gloriously fantastic job like touring Europe and writing a

friggin’ blurb about it?

When will I ever have 20 or so gorgeous women drooling over me,

only to know I must slowly eliminate them at a rose ceremony?

The answer to all these: Never. Television feeds us a desired

life that we will never have. But, then I snapped out of my

delusional rant and watched the show.

These guys had to work. Go out get interviews, put together a

story, write a script and answer off-the-cuff questions about

current sports issues.

Sure, I think the network has tried to keep certain figures in

the game for entertainment purposes, i.e. the “if Jesus were a

hippie” look-alike, but he is talented and funny.

Sure, it has a celebrity panel of judges, but they critique on

journalistic professionalism. They don’t speak in a British accent

and try their latest cut-down. They dissect the contestant’s

ability to work for ESPN.

To be fair, will America ever vote on whether I get an on-air

job? I hope not, but the screening and interviewing process they go

through is closer to reality than any other show.

I eventually came to the conclusion that ESPN is still the

Chipotle to all other TV soft tacos. They’re capitalizing off of

our fantasy-salivating minds while still not allowing a random Joe

sportscaster to usurp the SportsCenter desk.