One of the great joys of going to another country is the opportunity to do things one wouldn't normally do. In China, trying out for a male modelling career was one such opportunity. My story began when a Chinese lady came up to me and asked if I would like to audition for a Heineken commercial. She said I had to have some tennis ability. Although I had never played tennis, I've watched a fair bit on TV, so I agreed to give it a try.
The next day I turned up for the audition and saw other contenders in line for my spot. There were lots of blond men from Russia, France and Canada. Some of them were stretching, and all of them looked very focused.
I identified the favorite as a Russian with well-cultivated hair. He had this air of confidence that gave him an aura of respect. As for me, I sensed that I was not like the others. I was the only one with scraggly black hair. Furthermore, my face looked unshaven and perhaps my body language gave it away that I was still a novice. I just didn't know what stretches a male model was supposed to do.
After all the models had warmed up, the audition began. Each man took turns with the tennis racquet, and was asked to strike some poses. The man with cultivated hair put on a Blue Steel pose, and then topped it with a profound stare into the horizon. Both poses were very impressive, which confirmed my suspicions that he would be tough to beat.
Once everyone had had a go, the racquet was passed to me. I didn't think I could do the Blue Steel as well as Ben Stiller in Zoolander, but I knew that I could do a Lleyton Hewitt "C'mon!" with my hand pointed towards my forehead like the Australian tennis star.
Unfortunately, within five seconds of the racquet being given to me, it was taken away without a single photo being taken. The photographer went to his bag and got a baseball cap and put it on me. He looked at me, shook his head, went to his bag, got a hunting jacket and then put that on me.
I didn't really know what was going on. There I was looking like the Deer Hunter, with no tennis racquet in my hand, wondering how this was going to win me the audition, let alone sell beer to tennis fans.
After a few shots were taken, the lady and the photographer spoke together in Chinese, looked at the photos on the camera and asked where I was from. I said: "Australia." They sort of half-smiled and half-laughed. With that, they said I would no longer be required.
As for the blond men, they went on to round two to pretend they were playing tennis. None of them did a "C'mon" and all in all, they looked too precious for my liking. To be honest, I couldn't imagine any of them ever winning a Grand Slam. Although, I could imagine them drinking European beer, they could never sell Australian beers like VB or XXXX.
(China Daily 06/13/2007 page20)
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