Why I’m Not Applying to Survivor Anymore

May 15, 2026

As the casting cycle for Survivor Seasons 53 and 54 starts to warm up, I feel compelled to write something I never thought I’d say out loud — let alone publish on a website I built for the sole purpose of getting noticed by casting.

I’m not applying anymore.

My first application was for Season 9. I’ve told that whole story in the book I published — the one sitting on the homepage of this site — but the short version is this:
The dream of playing Survivor has been with me for over two decades.
And it was never about the money.

Let’s be honest: unless you win, the money is basically irrelevant after taxes. And even if you do win, a million dollars in 2000 (about $500k after taxes) went a lot further than $500k does today. For me, the draw was always the same: to live on a tropical island, play ridiculous carnival games, know when someone is lying to me, and lie right back.

If you’ve seen my short video — my Season 51 application — you know I talked about how Survivor casting basically saved my life. Applying to the show set off a chain of events that led to me discovering I needed open-heart surgery.

Then last fall, right around Halloween, while the casting cycle was happening,
two miles into a 6 mile daily run I had a heart attack.

The day before the heart attack, if you had asked me whether I could play Survivor, I would’ve said, “Not only will I go on the show — I’ll kick ass.” Now I’m recovering. Before the heart attack, I was averaging 100 miles a month as a runner. Now I’m closer to 50. I’m slower and a year away from my 60th b-day. I’d definitely be “the old guy” if I ever got cast.

Here’s the truth: I’m not applying anymore. Not because I don’t want to play — but because the casting team has ignored me for 20 years. The only way I’ll ever end up in the mix again is if someone stumbles across this website and passes it along to the right people. And by “right people,” I don’t mean casting. I mean the executive producers.

And I’m going to say something that might sound cocky,
but cocky isn’t cocky if you can back it up:

I would rock this show.
I would steamroll the other contestants.

I’d make Tony Vlachos and Russell Hantz look like choirboys —
but I’d do it without offending the jury.

Though I’m done applying, the dream isn’t dead. It’s just out of my hands now. If someone with influence sees this site and thinks, “This guy belongs on the island,” great. If not, I’ve still had one hell of a journey.

And honestly? After everything — the surgeries, the miles, the heart attack, the years of applying — I still believe this:

I could’ve been one of the greats.