Jan 07, 2006 17:22
Gameshow Host
As a newborn, I was taken from my parents as they slept in order to train to become a 1970s-style gameshow host. To this day I do not know why I was chosen.
For those who are unaware, there is a huge 300 acre government-sponsored training complex (simply known as The Academy) on the outskirts of County Durham which accepts over 2500 children from all over the world every year in order to fulfil this goal. Upon completion of the training, newly qualified gameshow hosts are - as one would expect - farmed out to television channels (both local and national), both here in Britain and countries as far and wide as Italy, Costa Rica, Mexico and even some of the old Soviet states such as Belarus and Kazakhstan, often for massive financial gain.
The Academy is the only recognised facility of its type in the world, and, as such, only children who have completed a stint there are allowed to host game shows. This is a global ruling, since last year anyway, when the remaining handful of stubborn African nations belatedly changed their legislation. The exception to this rule is Henry Kelly, who it is rumoured came into the world with hosting abilities so fully prenatally formed that the board of governors at The Academy (or ‘elders’, as they are known) declared him ‘unteachable’ and - having kept a constant eye on his development from afar - issued him with a special dispensation when he reached his 21st birthday. This is the reason why many latter day gameshow hosts can frequently be heard cynically referring to Kelly as ‘Anakin’.
The staff at The Academy during my attendance period included such well-known luminaries of the light entertainment idiom as Jimmy Tarbuck, Tom O’Connor, Lenny Bennett and Leslie Crowther, although the latter is now sadly deceased. During the forty years I was there, I was always treated with kindness and patience - my diet was second to none and the pastoral care and level of teaching was of such a standard - in loco parentis - that when I finally completed my apprenticeship, I was greatly saddened to be thrown back into the outside world with only pencil thin microphone, a tub of Brylcreem and a light blue blazer with which to steel myself against the motley avalanche of humanity which awaits any school leaver in the modern era.
But steel myself I did. My first job after the opulent graduation ceremony (at which Bruce Forsyth delivered a breathtakingly moving and pertinent address which reduced many to tears) was as the anchor of ‘What’s In The Box?’ - a late-night game show on a cable channel based near Toronto, Canada. My trepidation at leaving The Academy was soon tempered by a huge sense of excitement at being able to do every week that for which I had been prepared all my life - trade whimsical banter with contestants, impart rib-ticklingly humorous stories, topical one-liners and gems of worldly wisdom, simultaneously providing a firm, guiding hand and clear, objective head as they made their way across the game board answering questions which varied in difficulty and which dealt with a diverse range of subjects - anything from ‘People And Places’ to ‘Capital Cities’ or even ‘Celebrity Pairings’. Since then I have worked as a gameshow host in countries as far afield as Nigeria, Australia, Peru, Ghana, Brazil and Scotland.
For those unfamiliar with the training pattern, the syllabus runs something like this (although each child’s individual level of development is obviously taken into account).
Years 1-3 - Imprinting - A phase when infants are shown, from their cots, classic gameshow host performances of the modern era. Audio recordings of these performances are also piped into their heads as they sleep, through a small pair of headphones. Many ex-pupils of the Academy are still able to recite verbatim old editions of ‘The Zodiac Game’, ‘What’s My Line?’ or ‘Mr & Mrs’ as a direct result of this period.
Years 4-8 - Contestant Empathy - The first module in which children are active learners, and one which harnesses the innocence and wonderment of late toddlerhood and transforms it into something much more potent. At the end of this phase of the training, children will be able to successfully respond to losing contestants’ disappointment with the appropriate physical and verbal cues. Bob Holness is widely accepted as the master of this particular discipline, dealing with unsuccessful Gold Run contestants on an almost daily basis as part of his ratings-topping ‘Blockbusters’.
Years 8-12 - Verbal output - A crucial phase, for the gameshow host is nothing without his arsenal of witty stories, topically relevant quips and exasperated asides. As well as digesting a vast amount of information regarding current affairs, children are frequently expected to write up to 300 gags and lightning-fast put-downs a day.
Years 12-16 - Dress - Students are unable to progress past this module until they have successfully manufactured - by hand - a light pastel-coloured sports jacket and accompanying pair of gabardine slacks.
Years 16-26 - Meditation - It is a little known fact that a detailed knowledge of Buddhist theory and practice is essential to the gameshow host’s art. This part of the course is concerned with teaching gameshow hosts-in-waiting to centre themselves, harness their emotional responses and live in harmony and oneness with their environment. To achieve these meditative goals, students are sent to a retreat high up in the Tibetan mountains for the duration of the module. Such is the level of the intensity of the training that many more advanced gameshow hosts are thought to be able to stop their own hearts purely through the means of yogic meditation.
Years 26-40 - Golf - As students undertake the transition from young adulthood to fully-fledged manhood; they are expected to spend this time becoming excellent at golf, in preparation for the numerous charity events and pro-celebrity tournaments which inevitably lie in wait.
A firm grounding I’m sure you’ll agree, not only with regard to how to anchor a television gameshow with due charisma and humanity, but also to function effectively as a responsible and constructive individual in modern society.
I know that the time will eventually come when I shall feel compelled to hang up my microphone and search out my natural parents, and ask them the questions which have, on occasion, clawed away at the very core of my being. But for now, I am contented and happy to look nervous members of the general public directly in the eye while intoning the words: “you’ve got the ‘his ‘n’ hers’ matching tracksuits, they’re safe, but do you want to play for the speedboat? Take your time.”