We don’t need to like our reality stars. On the contrary, a vile roommate or duplicitous competitor is a key component to most successful reality programs. But then, Jonny Fairplay and Omarosa weren’t dog-killing quarterbacks like Michael Vick. Recent reports that the former NFL superstar, who’s serving 23 months for running a dogfighting operation, might waltz right into his own reality show almost made me lose my kibbles and bits. Getting impeached from the governor’s office for allegedly auctioning off Obama’s Senate seat attracts a sad amount of car-wreck fascination. Pop out eight kids: train-wreck fascination. But kill dogs? Kill! Dogs! You lost me.
I’m eager-slash-terrified to see which network pursues Vick, who’s reportedly already met with potential producers and discussed at least a six-figure payout. For Vick, the show is a savvy first step in rehabilitating his image so that he can get back into football and replenish his coffers. But does anyone really want to see a show with a possibly disingenuous football player inevitably volunteering at the local pound to prove his changed ways? Personally, I’d rather watch Cruella de Vil on Project Runway.
Can you imagine getting behind a Michael Vick reality show? If so, please explain to me and Marley.
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