When my buddy mentioned Happy Gilmore 2 casting rumors last month, I laughed it off. Thought he was messing with me. But last Tuesday, my agent called screaming about actual casting calls. Wild, right? Been chasing Hollywood gigs for 8 years, but never thought they’d revive a 90s cult classic.
Step 1: Tracking Down the Requirements
First thing I did? Hammered my keyboard trying to find official tryout details. Studios keep this stuff locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Emailed everyone I knew – even called a PA I met on a golf course last year who owes me a favor. Took three sleepless nights to finally score three key things they wanted:
- Comedy timing – Like rapid-fire Adam Sandler stuff
- Ability to swing a golf club without face-planting
- Special skills: Loud yelling matches & ice skating backwards?!
Prepping Like a Madman
Grabbed my rusty 5-iron from the garage and hit the driving range daily. Looked like a drunken squirrel swinging that club at first. Watched Happy Gilmore on loop till my eyes bled, practicing Shooter McGavin’s sneer in the bathroom mirror. Wife caught me screaming at mailman practice drills – thought I needed therapy.
Found this crusty old ice rink downtown for skating practice. Wiped out so hard Tuesday night some teenagers filmed it for TikTok. Probably viral by now. Whatever, right? Dedication.
The Actual Audition Circus
Show up Monday at this sketchy warehouse near the airport. Line wraps around the block – hundreds of dudes with hockey jerseys and homemade golf clubs. Some guy brought actual gophers. Inside smells like stale beer and desperation.
They handed us a script page with Happy’s meltdown at the water fountain scene. Had to do it three ways: angry, goofy, and while putting. Dude before me snapped a putter over his knee accidentally. When I did my take, the casting director actually snorted coffee through her nose at my club-twirl move. That’s a win, I figure.
Now? Playing the waiting game. Agent says callbacks start next week. If you don’t see me posting victory selfies, assume I’m nursing bruised ribs from skating fails. But hey, worth every damn minute!
