If the Champions Tour was a movie, it might be titled, “Golf, Or Somthing Like It.’’ Seriously, what is the interest these days in the 50-and-over circuit?

The answer is, not much. The television ratings continue to stink, which is why the schedule continues to shrink. Even though Hale Irwin, Tom Watson and Craig Stadler have come to the fore, Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus and Lee Trevino are out the door.

What’s weird about all of this is that here in the East Valley there is some interest. That’s because Irwin, Tom Purtzer, Gary McCord, John Jacobs, Mike McCullough, Jim Ahern, R.W. Eaks, Howard Twitty and rookie (a Champions oxymoron) Dan Pohl reside here. There really is a following, and with good reason: All of the above are great guys.

To a lesser degree, it’s also because the East Valley once hosted a Champions Tour event in The Tradition. For those who have forgotten, The Tradition was a pretty big deal each spring, especially when Nicklaus won four of them in the early 1990s, back when The Tradition was held at Desert Mountain in North Scottsdale.

Even when The Tradition moved to Superstition Mountain near Gold Canyon there was interest. In fact, a record 75,000 fans showed up for that one week in 2003. Maybe that doesn’t seem like a whole heck of a lot (compared to the FBR Open), but that was a rockfest compared to the rinky-dink galleries it has drawn since moving to Portland.

Obviously, the Over the Hill Gang needs some type of change -- or someone -- to spark its rebirth. As it stands now, it’s like jumping into a game of Texas Hold ’Em with a 2 of spades and a 3 of hearts. So how do you swim the river?

Nobody gave a Raymond Floyd waggle when the Champions switched from riding in carts to walking this season. Sure, the senior game is now being played in a more true and traditional sense, but it didn’t bother most fans one bit when Jack, Arnie and Lee were behind the wheel.

As for a new leader of the geriatric pack, I don’t see one. Greg Norman’s back might be his excuse, but his dislike for PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem, who also oversees the Champions, seems to be more to the point. Even if the Great White Shark did come to the rescue, chances are Norman alone would not be enough to save the tour’s sagging face. (And Tiger Woods still has 21 years to go.)

Certainly, Ben Crenshaw and Curtis Strange -- two of its latest members to hook on -- have had little to no impact. It’s been downright embarrassing for Crenshaw, a two-time Masters winner, who has three-top 10s in 61 appearances. And Strange, who once won back-to-back U.S. Opens, has not fared much better, a tie for 31st in four outings being his best.

Granted, Stadler has made an impact with eight wins, and Peter Jacobson captured the U.S. Senior Open last year. But that’s just not enough of the good stuff, especially when they share the headlines with former European Tour players like Mark McNulty and Des Smyth.

Or how about Mark Johnson, the former beer truck driver who won in Newport nearly a month ago, the last time the Champions teed it up? OK, so a lot of us can relate to beer truck drivers, still he’s a shooting star at best.

Even more than that, Johnson is one of the reasons the Champions Tour just ain’t what it used to be when it was founded 25 years ago. Mark Lye, the analyst for The Golf Channel who has played senior golf, knows why.

“It’s gone from a nostalgia tour to a tour where guys can really play,’’ said Lye, who has a top-10 in two years of limited play. “It’s survival of the fittest.’’

How long the Champions Tour can exist behind such a concept remains to be seen. Hopefully, it will last long enough that some of these older past champions who never made a lot of money in their youth can have a nice retirement.

Because, at best, that’s what the no-cut Champions Tour has become for a lot of one-time greats -- a pension fund. That, and players we can’t relate to.