‘Playmakers’ Gives You a Remedy for Happiness

The first thing you need to know about “Playmakers,” ESPN’s latest foray into “original programming,” is that it is better than the first foray, “A Season on the Brink” -- or, as it came to be unofficially subtitled, “Man, I Really Feel Sorry for Brian Dennehy.”

That’s not quite a taped-and-splinted thumbs up. After “Brink” (rhymes with “stink”), ESPN original programming had nowhere to go but up, kind of like the Cincinnati Bengals before they drafted Carson Palmer.

That said, let’s not get carried away. It’s still early.

“Playmakers” debuts tonight at 9, and the first episode will be shown without commercials. Mark Shapiro, ESPN’s executive vice president, says this is because “the show is unprecedented for ESPN, so we wanted to launch it in an unprecedented fashion.”

There might be a more pragmatic reason. Certainly, the NFL wasn’t going to be buying any commercial time.

“Playmakers” bills itself as a “gritty ensemble drama” peering behind the scenes of professional football. “NFL Countdown” with Rush Limbaugh fits the same description, and right now, it’s a tossup as to which ESPN brainstorm will dent the NFL’s stainless-steel image more.

What are your darkest preconceptions about life in the NFL?

Players hooked on steroids.

Players hooked on cocaine.

Players hooked on violence.

Players hooked on groupies.

“Playmakers” gets to all of them -- before the first snap from the line of scrimmage.

Of course, the NFL is never actually name-checked during the series’ first two episodes. That’s one of many similarities the program shares with “Any Given Sunday,” the over-the-top Oliver Stone movie that hit the reputation of pro football with so heavy a hand, the NFL wanted no part of it.

“Playmakers” tries very hard to be renegade, maverick, against the mainstream. Hence, we are asked to follow the trials and transgressions of the Cougars, a fictional team apparently without a city, or a country. The series was shot on location in Toronto, the football scenes filmed inside the SkyDome.

Let’s see: A team called the Cougars. Silver helmets. Powder-blue jerseys. The star linebacker is haunted by a vicious hit that left an opposing player paralyzed. The veteran running back, coming off injured reserve, is considering performance-enhancing drugs as a way back to the starting lineup. The rookie who replaced the veteran running back misses pregame warmups because he’s otherwise occupied with a crack pipe.

Original programming by ESPN ... or a day in the life of the Carolina Panthers?

The show’s creator and executive producer, John Eisendrath, has a resume that includes “Alias,” “Felicity” and “Beverly Hills 90210” -- and, evidently, a cable package that includes HBO. “Playmaker” subplots feature:

* A brutish thug who is so plagued by depression over his misdeeds, he seeks psychiatric help. (See, “The Sopranos.”)

* A young up-and-comer whose cocaine addiction jeopardizes his career advancement. (See, “The Sopranos” again.)

* Grim scenes of urban despair played out against a backdrop of mean streets and crack houses. (See, “The Wire.”)

* Needy self-absorbed athletes on cellphones with their agents minutes before kickoff. (See, “Arliss.”)

There is, however, little evidence of any “Sex and the City” influence. “Playmakers” features sex, and it features a city, but women are relegated to your basic four sports-flick cliche groups: cheerleader, groupie, flirtatious TV reporter and hysterical player’s wife who can’t believe the husband resorted to andro to revive a flagging career.

“You cheated!” she says during the second episode.

“It’s legal in baseball!” he says, and that’s his second comeback that needs some serious help.

Kickers have it just as bad as the women. The Cougars’ field goal specialist is Latino (of course), his last name is Mendes (of course) and he’s worried about his job security because he’s got “three kids, with a fourth on the way.”

Showing remarkable restraint, the series does not include any scenes of Mendes drowning his sorrows in a bottle of tequila. At least not yet.

“Playmakers” also borrows from “Jerry Maguire,” all the way down to the casting of Cuba Gooding Jr.’s brother, Omar, in the role of rookie running back Demetrius Harris.

One difference:

In “Jerry Maguire,” Cuba Gooding’s character tells his agent, “Show me the money!”

In “Playmakers,” Omar Gooding’s character tells his agent, “Show me the sleazy doctor who will help me pass a league drug test by injecting clean urine into my bladder through a catheter!”

Another subplot involves the Cougars’ coach urinating blood and trying to hide his condition from the team’s owner. Hmm. ESPN wanted to create a series its predominantly male audience could identify with, but might this be taking it a little too far?

The bleakness is unrelenting in “Playmakers.” This is one grim fairy tale. There’s very little joy in this football soap opera. Very little football too. But if you’re looking for drugs, pills, guilt, deceit, fear, loathing and clinical depression, you’ve come to the right place.

As the ESPN ad campaign goes (you might have heard something about it), “If all you see is the athlete, open your eyes.”

Once you do, you’ll notice the strategy at work here, as well as the audience being courted.

ESPN calls it “Playmakers.” You could also call it, “Jaundiced Eye For the Straight Guy.”