Competing to win a chance to lose

The casting call stipulated that no one should show up more than three hours before the doors opened at 10 a.m. yesterday. But 27 gung-ho competitors, unwilling to take any chances, arrived the night before, camping just outside the borders of the NBC10 parking lot in Bala Cynwyd to guarantee themselves a place at the head of the line.

Taking turns making trips to the port-a-potties and to gather rations from McDonald's and Wawa, they supported one another through the long, chilly hours until dawn. Only the first 500 would be guaranteed a chance to audition for season nine of the reality show The Biggest Loser, so they wrote numbers on their wrists and hands to secure their positions.

By 8 a.m., a line of more than 300 very large men and women had formed behind them.

Gregg Wood, a 24-year-old Quizzo host from Northeast Philadelphia weighing in at 475 pounds, waited patiently, finishing off a cigarette. "I'm down from two packs a day to three-quarters of a pack," he said. "It's time to make a change."

Nearby, Joseph Brown, a 29-year-old, 550-pound disabled warehouse worker from Bristol, rested in a folding chair. "I took for granted what most kids do," he said. "The working out."

One woman scolded another for eating a Rice Krispies treat. "They taste just as stale whether they're fresh or old," she said.

"I'm hungry," her friend snapped, taking a big, resentful bite.

There were husbands and wives, cousins and siblings, mothers and daughters, friends and coworkers, and scores of single men and women, all hoping to spend half a year in a food and exercise reeducation camp outside Los Angeles.

The show, whose premise was initially scoffed at by critics who thought it puerile and destined for failure, has become one of NBC's golden geese, delivering larger (numerically speaking) audiences every season.

The appeal lies partially in watching 20 or so obese strangers balance on high wires and guess how many calories are in a taco and slog up mountain trails and cry and cry and throw up and cry some more as they are flogged into shape by personal trainers Jillian and Bob, who are widely believed to have been Roman slave drivers in their previous lives.

"We are looking for people who have hit rock bottom," said Paul Gordon, the casting director. "People who are extremely motivated and have great stories."

Ralph Brooks Sr., perhaps, number four in line. "I lost a brother to diabetes at 54 two years ago," said Brooks, who is diabetic, too.

A self-employed painter and contractor, Brooks, 51, weighs 289 pounds. "I'm just not eating the right things," he said after finishing a McDonald's breakfast of steak, eggs, and cheese with a large sweet tea.

Or maybe Craig Hargrove, 21 and 350 pounds, a senior at the College of New Jersey. Hargrove, who is majoring in communications with a minor in deaf studies and who will be the first man in his family to graduate from college, was dressed smartly in a white, button-down shirt and silk tie, knitted vest, and khakis.

"I wanted to be in our guide for my school, but they turned me down," he said. "I'm sure it's because of the weight. The school wants to project a certain image."

So does The Biggest Loser.

"We don't want any sad stories today," Gordon said. "Today is the day they are going to change their lives!"

After graduating from Council Rock High School, Gordon (who is thin and very L.A. cool) moved West to escape winter and find a career in Hollywood. Now 32, he has worked on Survivor, The Bachelor, "virtually any reality show you can name," and said he had developed a sixth sense about the kind of personalities that work best in each setting.

"Although we do make mistakes," he said.

Unmotivated, maladjusted, emotional wrecks have gotten onto the show. No harm, no foul. They quickly get voted off, and, in the overwrought process, still make for great TV.

Ben Silverman, cochair of Universal Studios, which owns the show, was recently quoted in Variety saying, "It's a great, dynamic self-reliant soap opera."

Before the doors opened yesterday, potential contestants were handed questionnaires asking such things as, "Have you ever been thin?" and "How competitive are you?" They were also asked whether there was any information they wanted to keep private, although everyone knows that cameras and microphones don't respect many boundaries.

Last season, they caught an ambitious mother sacrificing her daughter. A grandfather collapsing in a heap on the gym floor. And a father who had assumed the mantle of the beneficent patriarch betraying and lying to benefit his son.

Yeah, well, but the winner gets $250,000 and everyone loses a lot of weight. So Philadelphia's hopeful losers said yesterday they had nothing to fear.

"It's a chance you have to take," said Jenny Burak, a 325-pound, 31-year-old customer-care agent for a company that sells diabetes supplies. "The loss of privacy comes with the package."

Elsewhere along the line, the competition was already starting.

"Do not ambush, do not knock people over, do not trample, do not run," Maurice Slappy, the senior security supervisor, warned the increasingly antsy crowd.

Kathy Kanzler, who drove in yesterday morning from Reading, tried to jump the line in front of the original 27.

"Did you just pop up in here?" Slappy asked Kanzler when those with the numbered wrists began to protest.

"It's so unorganized," Kanzler complained as her daughter Candace scolded: "You want to make all these enemies and you want to be on the show? Let's be peaceful!"

Kanzler, a field coordinator for retail garden shops, was eventually pushed back farther in line. Undeterred, she said she was certain she'd not only be chosen as a contestant but also win the competition. "Because I'm a diva!"

At 10 a.m., when the first 12 contestants were ushered in to meet Gordon, she was not among them.

They entered a room draped with black curtains and sat around a large, white table.

"Welcome! Now I want you to know I don't care if your dog just died. I don't care if you just lost your job. I don't care if you lost your house. I don't want to hear any sad stories today. If you get a callback tomorrow, then we can cry for an hour. But today is happy."

He asked them to state their name, age, and occupation, then tossed out the first question.

"Who thinks the winner last season deserved to win?" Everyone agreed, obviously thinking strategically. "Yes," they said. "Definitely."

"Helen worked so hard!" one man cried out.

"Yeah," Gordon said. "It was a real workout lifting her daughter up and throwing her under the bus!"

Chagrined faces all around.

"OK." Gordon moved on. "Tell me in 10 seconds why you want to be on The Biggest Loser."

"I don't want to be just a pretty face!" "I want to be alive to see my grandchildren!" "I want to be able to get on a roller coaster and pull the bar down!" Done.

Next 12.

"Welcome! Now I want you to know I don't care if your dog just died . . ."