You join us just in time for an exclusive sneak preview of the new sports show that is destined to be the televisual phenomenon of 2001. Last summer saw Big Brother imprint itself on the national consciousness as we became engrossed by the day-to-day lives of a group of total strangers thrown together in a house and isolated from the outside world. This year Big Bopper seems certain to make the same dramatic cultural impression.

The premise is a simple one. Four long-serving officials from the world of sport will live together for a month in a specially constructed over-sized committee room. This room is designed to mimic the environment in which each official carries out his normal duties and comes complete with its own gas heater and limitless supplies of tea, sandwiches, biscuits and cigarettes.

With the outside world looking on, each official performs a number of administrative tasks and each week the public can vote out the person they feel has performed in the least officious and most sensible way. The range of situations with which they will be confronted varies widely. There is the obligatory disciplinary scenario after a free-for-all brawl where the natural instinct of each is to sweep everything under the carpet and hope the media doesn't kick up too much of a stink. They will also be presented with an imaginary spell of bad weather and their goal is to see how long they can delay postponements so that the maximum number of supporters is inconvenienced. And the set-piece highlight is the allocation to each of a fictional financial sum and the services of an over-priced architect. They then have to decide whether to proceed with a white elephant stadium development on their own or, alternatively, use the cash to lobby government to build it for them.

First up into the Big Bopper committee room is Sean Og. He has been a member of his local GAA club since the age of two and this selfless service to the club continues a tradition that stretches back through generations: the founder members of the club were his brother and his uncle, both also called Sean.

Sean Og moved quickly through the ranks of officialdom within the club, principally because he had none of the football talent of his six brothers and so had plenty of time. Now aged 37, he has served as secretary for 21 years. His pithy club notes for the local papers are the stuff of literary legend, stuffed with knowing jokes and clever little double-entendres.

Sean Og places himself on the progressive wing of the GAA, although he is opposed to the lifting of Rule 21, the playing of foreign games at Croke Park and the presence of women on his committee. His favourite singer is Christy Moore, but only for the funny ones.

The next willing volunteer for this unique experiment is Roger. He has played rugby since his prep school days and has found it invaluable as he has moved through primary school, grammar school, university and into business. Roger is living proof of the inestimable value of the old school tie network and a few years ago he made the decision to put a little back into his local club. He has served as social secretary since then and the focal point every two years has been the men-only trip to Paris for the international.

It is in situations like this that Roger truly excels himself and his ability to seek out the best casinos and more downmarket bars has become the stuff of club legend. His favourite singer is Chris de Burgh, but not the soppy ones.

The dark horse and joker in the pack could be Sammy. After spending endless hours shouting at his son playing football for his Saturday morning league side, he was asked to become involved in the running of the team and has not looked back. It was only a short hop and skip into the upper echelons of the Irish Football League where he serves on a management committee.

Easily the most forthright member of the group, Sammy is sick and tired of the way in which the standard of football in the Irish League comes under constant savage attack. He is adamant that the best players could easily hold their own in the non-league Conference in England. Failing that, he helpfully points out, there is always the Scottish Third Division.

Another of his irritations is the failure of local people to get behind the Northern Ireland team. The fact that the side has only one or two players currently with Premiership clubs gives a false impression of the quality of the football. The appointment of local man Sammy McIlroy delighted his namesake because he never felt that Lawrie McMenemy was prepared to go out there and die for the green and white jersey. Our Sammy supports the idea of an all-Ireland team in principle, but only if half the places are reserved for Northerners. His favourite singer is Charley Pride, but only the slow ones.

The fourth occupant of the Big Bopper house is Wayne, also known as John. He has embraced the ice hockey revolution and uses his pseudonym because he thinks it makes him sound more Canadian. Wayne was one of the first to stream through the doors of the Odyssey complex to support the Belfast Giants and has remained steadfastly loyal ever since. He is not too sure about any of the rules of ice hockey but he loves the fights and the Mexican waves.

Inspired by what he saw, Wayne quickly set up his own supporters' club and he is currently chairman, secretary and treasurer. There are five other members, three of whom are members of his family. His favourite singer is Garth Brooks, with no exceptions.

So there it is, the choice is yours. The challenge is to find this country's top sporting administrator as voted by you, the general public. There will be no monetary reward. For these men the joy of public service is enough.