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ENLARGE
Today, begins the next step in sports entertainment: The T.O. Show.
I know it's a little premature, what with the premiere of the show tonight on VH1, but this may be the biggest thing for the NFL — and subsequently the career of Terrell Owens — since the creation of the HBO series Hardknocks.
Don't get this twisted either, it's not going to be like the canceled ESPN show “Playmakers,” where the rambunctious, obscene and outrageous blend for the orgy of fictional entertainment. No, not at all. This is the real deal.
In sneak peeks already playing on VH1's Web site, Owens is observed as he reacts to getting cut from the Dallas Cowboys, and then signing with the Buffalo Bills. He moves to Los Angeles in the offseason to “get his life together” and in the mean time, he showers viewers with promiscuity, parties it up lavishly, argues with his motherly publicists and generally shows off what all wannabe professional athletes hope to attain: The lifestyle of the rich and infamous.
It's absolutely delicious.
I'm already hooked. I've got my DVR set up (grabbing the show at 10 p.m.) for its first episode. The thing is, this won't be like that dry documentary “Kobe doin' Work” or lack the reality like “Playmakers.” This will be straight from the horse's mouth. And whether scripted or not, it merits the attention of those interested in what really happens on Monday through Saturday for a professional football player. I mean, outside of practice, what do we know?
Well we've been invited into the life of Owens, who for all of his ruggedness and infamy, is still one of the most charming and capable wide receivers in the NFL. And for once, he gets to shape his own message as executive producer. Therein lies the beauty of this historic endeavor.
An active, and readily hateable, superstar athlete is not just lending his voice to some radio show or commenting on some other football player's on-the-field tribulation, but giving his image and credibility up for public consumption with the hopes that it may alter your views of what has become a sour story. “Team Obliterator” wants out of his skin.
Changing your mind is Owens' chief inspiration for the show and the driving force behind his willingness to open up. He needs your love. As the tagline of the show touts, he wants to show the world Terrell the man — not T.O. the athlete.
It's an admirable pursuit, which will likely see the keen critical eye of every pundit this side of the Atlantic. And with Skip Bayless as ferocious as ever, he'll have to answer for all the unscripted meltdowns that VH1 so readily dishes up in the season's previews.
Quite literally, this could be the first time a professional athlete breaks down on camera for not winning a game, or losing a game, or meeting their estranged father (which Owens does in this show). But for simply not being loved in the way that he wants. That's compelling. That's egotistic. That screams of conceitedness and vulgar vanity.
That's great television.
---
Zuri Berry is a sports writer for The Union. His columns usually appear on Wednesday. Contact him via e-mail at zberry@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4244.
I know it's a little premature, what with the premiere of the show tonight on VH1, but this may be the biggest thing for the NFL — and subsequently the career of Terrell Owens — since the creation of the HBO series Hardknocks.
Don't get this twisted either, it's not going to be like the canceled ESPN show “Playmakers,” where the rambunctious, obscene and outrageous blend for the orgy of fictional entertainment. No, not at all. This is the real deal.
In sneak peeks already playing on VH1's Web site, Owens is observed as he reacts to getting cut from the Dallas Cowboys, and then signing with the Buffalo Bills. He moves to Los Angeles in the offseason to “get his life together” and in the mean time, he showers viewers with promiscuity, parties it up lavishly, argues with his motherly publicists and generally shows off what all wannabe professional athletes hope to attain: The lifestyle of the rich and infamous.
It's absolutely delicious.
I'm already hooked. I've got my DVR set up (grabbing the show at 10 p.m.) for its first episode. The thing is, this won't be like that dry documentary “Kobe doin' Work” or lack the reality like “Playmakers.” This will be straight from the horse's mouth. And whether scripted or not, it merits the attention of those interested in what really happens on Monday through Saturday for a professional football player. I mean, outside of practice, what do we know?
Well we've been invited into the life of Owens, who for all of his ruggedness and infamy, is still one of the most charming and capable wide receivers in the NFL. And for once, he gets to shape his own message as executive producer. Therein lies the beauty of this historic endeavor.
An active, and readily hateable, superstar athlete is not just lending his voice to some radio show or commenting on some other football player's on-the-field tribulation, but giving his image and credibility up for public consumption with the hopes that it may alter your views of what has become a sour story. “Team Obliterator” wants out of his skin.
Changing your mind is Owens' chief inspiration for the show and the driving force behind his willingness to open up. He needs your love. As the tagline of the show touts, he wants to show the world Terrell the man — not T.O. the athlete.
It's an admirable pursuit, which will likely see the keen critical eye of every pundit this side of the Atlantic. And with Skip Bayless as ferocious as ever, he'll have to answer for all the unscripted meltdowns that VH1 so readily dishes up in the season's previews.
Quite literally, this could be the first time a professional athlete breaks down on camera for not winning a game, or losing a game, or meeting their estranged father (which Owens does in this show). But for simply not being loved in the way that he wants. That's compelling. That's egotistic. That screams of conceitedness and vulgar vanity.
That's great television.
---
Zuri Berry is a sports writer for The Union. His columns usually appear on Wednesday. Contact him via e-mail at zberry@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4244.
