Hayes is on the Pitch…

Posted on November 13, 2010

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For most of my last 23 years the only pitches I’ve known are GAA pitches. Generally soggy, mucky and frequently set on a hill or next to a field that sheep regularly escape from…

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Then I decided it’d be a great idea to be a journalist and have since had fun with a different kind of pitch.

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For the last month or 6 weeks, I’ve had to write pitches for radio programmes or article ideas that would inevitably be shot down in flames, (apart from the latest one, pretty happy with that one.)

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But now I’m tasked with writing a pitch for what was once my original aim, hope and aspiration for a career. Perhaps it still is, at this stage I’ve really stopped worrying about what’s going on in the ‘career’ section of my brain. I assume it’s locked in an ongoing battle to the death with the ‘logic’ and ‘laziness’ sections.

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But, coming back to the point – I have to write a TV programme pitch.

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Hmmm….

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It’s not that it’s difficult, after all I wrote one when sending scripts off about a year ago and I think I did a pretty good job of it. All scripts and pitches came back with a big fat ‘no thanks’ on them but I maintain that I sent the wrong script as a calling card because, despite evidence to the contrary, I believe that the sitcom I co-wrote with a friend is pretty bloody good.

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Or maybe that’s the ‘insanely narcissistic’ section of my brain talking.

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No, what’s particularly daunting about this task is the weight that’s riding on it. Out of the pitches sent in, a certain number of us will be called for a further development workshop in lovely London town, where people really don’t self-censor before asking you VERY personal questions.

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I guess, in a way, this is either a step forward or the end of the road for Box Room¸ the fun sitcom about world-weary flatmates Johnny and Michelle and their hunt for the illusive perfect flatmate. I’m here! I’m right here! Pick me!

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Friday the 19th is D-Day.

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A bit like John Simm when he played the Master in Doctor Who (wonderfully) I can hear the drums in my head.

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Hopefully the BBC keep them tappa-tappa-tapping.