Lance Allred the official website of the Lance Allred who is not the professional Poker player

Sneak Peak-

Basketball Gods, the sequel to LONGSHOT, will be released later this month, June 2011 via kindle and ebook, but in the meantime, here is a sample. Thank you for your support and enjoy.

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Chapter 12

In the final week of the 2009 basketball season my agent, John Greig, called me up to let me know a dirty little secret:
I was a finalist for the ABC TV series “The Bachelor.”
It was all news to me as I had no recollection of applying for such a job. Was I recommended or did they just have an eye on me from all the press the year before, as well with a forthcoming book due to be released shortly in May? I don’t know.

To clarify, I was not one of many bachelors for “The Bachelorette.” No, I was in contention to be the Bachelor, the head man, the most eligible bachelor in America. The sexiest man alive.
Word soon got out that I was in the mix to which I had many people calling and pulling for me. But I downplayed it, not enjoying talking about myself in such a promotional venue, but part of me still liked the attention. I could not help but envision all the beautiful women lining to fall in love with me, emaciated from lack of food, fed only with alcohol to distort reality and confuse emotions. Trap anyone in a house for a month with no contact with the outside world, creating me as the center of their universe, ingraining into their heads that I am the man of their dreams and they will eventually begin to lose touch. With enough isolation and dozens of women competing for the same object, along with enough alcohol, any man could become the most desirable on the planet.
The sensible man in me knew that true love does not come from such a controlled environment. Infatuation maybe. But not love.
But to this point I had struck out in the art of love and thus I would be willing to take what little romance I could get. Beggars can’t be choosers. Though I disparaged the situation amidst the inquiries piling my way, claiming I felt the drama would maybe be too much for me, I secretly desired it. I wanted me some Hollywood drama:
The tears, the fighting, the make up sex. It’s the best!
I could only imagine the late night hot tub sessions, regardless of a camera over my shoulder, where nameless beautiful girl and I talk about our hopes and dreams. While speaking beautiful prose about my darkest fears, I look into her misty eyes, full of affection, as she then tries to kiss me. But alas, with pained regret, I refuse her, claiming that in good conscience and fairness to the other girls, I could only kiss the final girl, chivalrous man that I am. Of course, this only makes said nameless girl fall more in love with me after witnessing such integrity.
Integrity captured on camera is the most powerful, no doubt.
I could already see the cat fights in the kitchen, wine glasses shattering overhead against cupboards, with rival women vying for my affection they now so badly craved, even more than the air to breathe.
Though I was no longer of polygamist denomination, I still liked the idea of being desired by dozens of women at the same time. Like so many of my teammates throughout the years, I was now rationalizing that I could actually be comfortable living an unbridled form of polygamy. What man does not want to be adored by countless women? It is flattering to our fragile egos to believe that we are desired by many, confirming our dominance and masculinity. We crave it.
Conversely ladies, what woman does not want to be desired by countless men? No double standards please.
Yet more visceral than all the superficial ego flattery of physical love and desire was the looming potential of fame. If I were to become the Bachelor and a sudden, overnight sensation for the tabloids, my picture lining grocery lines across America, think of all the free press it would generate for my upcoming book!
It would sell millions. I would suddenly become a millionaire, not only because of the Bachelor, but from my book as well. I would be a rags to riches story not only in the business of love, but in finances as well. I would be able to retire from basketball and become a full time writer and live a comfortable life. I would no longer have to travel around the world, from job to job, but from vacation to vacation.
The potential benefit from being named the Bachelor was exciting. Yet, there was a part of me that also wanted my book to stand on its own merit. The artist in me wanted the integrity of my work to shine through and sustain itself on its own, not from tabloid gossip.
But again, an artist will take any break he can get.

After the season was over I was to make a short video presentation of myself, with the caveat that I at least have one scene with my shirt off to which the producers could gage if I was hot tub worthy. I felt I was. Although at the time, coming out of basketball season, I was white, leaning towards the pasty white. But my skin will tan if I put the effort.
I have zero interest in tanning.
My friend Jared and I compiled an amazing video. I was proud of it. Plus, I was honest in giving them a glimpse of my personality, not trying to be someone who I wasn’t. The video gave a quick background of my parents and the situation from which I was raised, followed with a good interview in a basketball gym. I then went with a humorous skit to close out the video, in which I went around town to my favorite stores deducing my choices of purchase, to show that I could also apply it to a line of objectified women.
I was happy with the work we put together.
I sent the resume back and waited. A few weeks later, I got my rejection notice. According to them I was not quite the fit of what they were looking for, as they said it is a very complicated and precise process. I would have preferred they been more honest. Again, I like honesty.
I would have liked to have known what was it that was missing. Was it one thing? Several things? Was it because I didn’t drink therefore would be cause for less sensational drama? Was it because my humor was too dry, and my sarcasm too cutting? Was it because I was not rich? Was it because my personality would be difficult to reign in and fit to a script? Was it because I didn’t get a tan before filming?
I guess I will never know. But they did ask to keep my record on file if the need should ever arise. I wasn’t too upset. I had fun with the video and playing fantasies in my head through the process. It was a welcome distraction from basketball.
As well, I could rest easy justifying to myself that I did not sell out. Even though I would have. Piety is often nothing more than self-soothing posturing within unfortunate circumstances.

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Basketball Gods available late June, 2011 via ebook and kindle.