The complicated love story between me and "The Bachelor" franchise

As America's leading watcher/skeptic/fan/mocker of "The Bachelor," I was devastated when ABC cancelled the dating series' season in March after the release of a video showing the upcoming season's Bachelorette assaulting her boyfriend while her young child watched.

Devastated! Or grateful. Or unsurprised. Or disappointed.

My relationship with "The Bachelor" franchise is complicated – a weird cauldron of amusement, disgust and wanting to watch something with Mrs. Brad to make up for her watching thousands of hours of sports with me.

A quick explanation of this season's problems. Bachelorette Taylor Frankie Paul (whose name sounds like a YouTube MMA fighter) is apparently the star of "The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives," on Hulu (which I've never watched and would never want to watch). She was a controversial selection to be the Bachelorette (I guess it should be capitalized?), but ABC wanted to cash in on her fame by casting her.

They shot the whole season, presumably had a "winner," (quotation marks for sarcasm) and then the damning video was released. ABC apparently know about the domestic violence – it was from 2023 –but like the NFL, they assumed it wasn't as bad as domestic violence always is.

Now, back to the complicated relationship, one that I can freely discuss now that we won't have a "Bachelor" or "Bachelorette" or "Golden Bachelor" or "Golden Bachelorette" for a while. If ever.

If you've somehow missed the past quarter-century of the show, congratulations. The format is basic: One person (the Bachelor or Bachelorette) simultaneously dates 25 people of the opposite gender and narrows down the field, eliminating several or one person each week until the finale, when they pick between the final two and get engaged.

They almost never marry, but they get engaged on the finale.

There's always drama in "the house," which is where the contestants live. The star always seems to be falling in love with multiple people. The star always says, "I didn't think it would be this hard." The star always cries. There's usually at least one time that an ambulance takes someone away (always previewed as if it's dramatic, but often it's the person having a bloody nose).

There's always a villain on the show: A woman or man who is mean and scheming and goes way farther than they should (educated guess: The producers pick at least one person each week to survive). The host, ex-quarterback Jesse Palmer (who succeeded Chris Harrison after Harrison made some racially insensitive comments) sympathizes with the star and speaks very softly as if that will make it better.

The words "journey" and "being here for the right reason" and "chemistry" get thrown around a lot. In the finale, the producers always try to make you think the star will somehow pick the person who finishes second. It ends in a marriage proposal and an "after the final rose" show where they reunite for the first time since the show ended. That comes a couple of weeks after a "Men (or Women) Tell All" show, where the eliminated contestants share their stories and inevitably gang up on one person.

My complicated relationship with it might be obvious: I know how the show works. I watch it every season. I get a rooting interest.

The complicating part is that I'm  cynical about how the show works (always predicting that the villain will stay alive). I frequently make snarky comments about the staged romance (my core premise: "Yes. That 28-year-old model and influencer has absolutely no chance to find love except on this show. I'm sure she'll never go on another date."). My rooting interest is often for the person no one else wants to win.

All of these things irritate Mrs. Brad. She has told me in multiple seasons to stop critiquing the show and contestants (while she does it).

But the worst part of all is the disdain I have for men who watch the show.

When they have the "After the Final Rose" show, I know the men in the audience are there reluctantly or because they're trying to impress someone who they just started dating. No regular man would want to go to a show like that, where the audience applauds when someone gives a cheesy inspirational speech to the person who was heartbroken. I call those men pathetic.

Then I realize: Are they more pathetic than me? I sit at home, watching the show because I want Mrs. Brad to like me. I don't know if I'm there for the right reason.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.