01:00 AM EST on Saturday, January 21, 2006

Mark Burnett, the reality show mastermind behind Survivor, would never let anything as mundane as Richard Hatch's trial on federal tax-evasion charges on the air.

Hatch, the very first Survivor winner, stood in front of a jury yesterday, just as he had so many times on the island of Pulau Tiga on Survivor.

Only there were no flickering torches. No approaching thunderstorms sending bolts of lightning to illuminate the tropical night. No passionate speeches about rats and snakes.

Instead, Hatch stood in the witness box in a bland, fluorescent-lit courtroom on the second floor of the federal courthouse in downtown Providence, answering questions about bank accounts, accountants, and IRS form 1120-S.

He wore a blue button-down shirt, no jacket, no tie. (As all Survivor fans know, Hatch prefers to wear nothing at all.)

Much of the day was taken up with dull, droning testimony about the expenses Hatch paid to set up his charity, Horizon Bound. The government charges that Hatch took donations intended for that charity and used them to pay for improvements on two houses he owns.

A lengthy sparring match between defense and prosecution over the financial records contained in Exhibit GGG was the most boring thing I've seen since the first season of Big Brother.

But Hatch was forthright and decisive in his answers, and by mid-afternoon he and his attorney Michael Minns were busy painting a picture of a guy who had absolutely no intention of defrauding anyone, but simply wanted to get to the bottom of a confusing financial situation.

"I want nothing more than to find out the truth about what was owed and deal with it," Hatch said.

I've covered Richard Hatch since Survivor aired in the summer of 2000. One way or another, he's seldom been out of the spotlight since.

After winning Survivor, he appeared on practically every TV talk show on the planet. He's been a contestant on Survivor: All Stars and Bravo's Battle of the Network Reality Stars.

Hatch has also been arrested twice before, once for allegedly abusing his son, once on a charge of domestic assault after an encounter with an ex-boyfriend.

Hatch vehemently denied the abuse allegation, and the charge against him was dropped. Hatch was initially found guilty of the assault charge, but the conviction was overturned on appeal.

In 2004, Hatch even went on Dr. Phil McGraw's syndicated TV show as part of an episode called "Pedophiles: A Parents Worst Nightmare." On the air, Hatch said his 14-year-old son had become involved with a 28-year-old man Hatch characterized as a sexual predator.

For all his media exposure, I've found Hatch to be a particularly opaque personality. Interviewing him, often over the phone, was something of an ordeal.

I'd ask a question. There'd be a pause, and I could almost hear the tiny wheels turning in Hatch's head. Then he'd emit an answer that delivered the least amount of information humanly possible.

Another question. Another terse answer.

After about three more questions, Hatch would say, "Sorry, Andy, gotta go," and hang up. Then I'd stare down at the seven usable words I had scrawled into my notebook and try to write a story.

The closest I ever got to Hatch was one evening during Survivor's first season, when I watched an episode with Hatch and his family at his former Middletown home. (CBS has tightened the secrecy around its Survivor contestants since then, and such a thing would be impossible now.)

Hatch cleverly arranged the seating so he could watch me trying to watch him.

Since Survivor had been taped in advance, Hatch already knew the outcome. He appeared to get a huge kick out of watching the episode. He would parry questions with a shrug or "We'll just have to see." He occasionally sang along to Survivor's mock-tribal theme music.

"Damn, this is a good show!" he said with a big grin.

Now Hatch can't avoid hard questions, and he has still another jury to convince.

Hatch is still famous enough, at least around here, that the press seating in the courtroom was full yesterday.

To accommodate everyone who wanted to see Hatch on the stand, court officers set up an "overflow room" where the court proceedings were shown on TV. On the screen, Hatch was just a vague blue figure at the far end of the room.

The overflow room was filled with an eighth-grade class from the Jewish Community Day School of Rhode Island.

Teacher Libi Parpar-Ramirez explained that her students were reading a book called Monster, about a 16-year-old boy on trial for murder, and she wanted to show the class a real courtroom. That they were watching Hatch's trial was just a coincidence.

For most of the students, Hatch's 2000 victory on Survivor was practically ancient history. The court proceedings, though, reminded them of another TV show.

"It's like Law & Order, only live," said Rebekah Page.

asmith@projo.com / (401) 277-7262