OK, a couple of buddies might needle each other before heading to the woods in pursuit of a whitetail deer. But whoever heard of hunters as cocky media personalities? Giving interviews, choosing nicknames like "Cowboy" and "Hush Dog," starring on an Internet site that features boasting aplenty _ not to mention electronic music and curvaceous women?

It's the name of the game in the World Hunting Association, a high-tech, razzle-dazzle take on an old sport. Conceived by David Farbman, (pictured here) a Southfield real estate developer, the WHA is promoting a competitive professional hunting tour and an interactive Web site where you can track live deer and "shoot" them _ with a camera, that is.

The WHA's inaugural tournament was held last month on the 1,000-acre Lost Arrow Ranch, a fenced enclosure in Gladwin. Eight professional hunters from around the country competed for a purse of $100,000 to $125,000. A video program about the tourney will be posted on the WHA's Web site starting next week.

Now, several one-on-one grudge matchups are taking place. Matt "Mr. Relentless" Trissel and Hank "The Hammer" Anderson competed last week in Oklahoma; Albertson and Kernen face off in southern Indiana this weekend. Another is scheduled for next week in Jackson, Mich.

The hunters are trailed by camera operators who chronicle their efforts to take the more impressive deer. Their exploits will be featured on the Web site, helping them develop on-air personalities and fan bases. The WHA's cast of characters, representing different hunting styles and regions of the country, makes for intriguing subplots as on television reality shows.

It's an approach tailored to the younger, extreme-sports generation. Farbman, 35, says that's crucial to the long-term survival of hunting, which is gradually losing popularity as the traditional rural lifestyle fades and suburban sprawl wipes out habitat while leaving less open space suitable for firing weapons.

"Your average age of a hunter continues to go up and your total hunter numbers are going down," he says. "Young people are not jumping into the sport."

Through its Web site, he says, the WHA "will create the ultimate destination for hunters and outdoor enthusiasts to have their voice heard, to display their talent through uploads, and be entertained and educated about hunting and outdoor sports year-round."

As for the tournaments, "they will enhance the image of the amount of skill it takes in the field each day to be an effective hunter. They'll show who die-hard hunters are as people."

Farbman (pictured here with his wife, Nadine, the WHA's creative marketing director) contends hunting needs competition and fans pulling for their favorites, as do NASCAR and even professional fishing tours.

But hunting purists have reacted with outrage since Farbman announced plans for the WHA last summer.

They initially called for shooting deer with tranquilizer guns, enabling them to be returned to the wild.

Opponents say tranquilizing deer could doom them to paralysis or slow death from stress _ less humane than the quick kill produced by a well-placed bullet or arrow. It also could bolster the animal-rights movement by giving legitimacy to non-lethal hunting, they say.

"The public will begin demanding that we all take up dart guns and spare the life of the quarry, because to kill an animal will be barbaric, while to dart it will be honorable," columnist Jim Zumbo wrote for the Web site outdoorlife.com.

So intense were the attacks that Farbman abandoned darting in favor of firearms and archery hunts. After last month's tournament, he also ditched the ranch setting _ derided by critics as "canned hunting" _ in favor of the traditional "fair-chase" format in open country.

Still, many within the hunting establishment aren't satisfied.

Brian Murphy, executive director of the Quality Deer Management Association of Athens, Ga., met with Farbman last July and praises the changes he's made. But Murphy says he can't accept the idea of competitive, tournament hunting.

"I'd hope that when a hunter takes the life of an animal, there's a better justification than being a TV star or getting a new truck or prize money or whatever the case may be," Murphy says. "Turning it into a contest, instead of an individual pursuing an animal on an almost spiritual level, just goes against the grain of the vast majority of ethical sportsmen."

Farbman has pursued deer on his family's 300-acre spread near Ellsworth most of his life, says he respects the sport as much as anyone, and insists the competitions won't degrade its ethics or spiritual dimensions.

"David is the most passionate, die-hard supporter of hunting you're ever going to meet," Kernen says. "He's just trying to do the best he can for the sport we all love and cherish."