Imagine, if you will, a cultural obsession so
deep. Oh, yeah. Like so completely ingrained
in the national psyche that it practically just
begs to be made fun of. Right. I'm talking about
the kind of devotion that literally stops an
entire country in its tracks, where daily life
is just put on hold and the collective mood of
millions relies entirely on the bouncing of a
ball. It's intense. In Australia. That obsession
is sport. It is treated with a reverence usually
reserved for religion. Yeah, that's a perfect
way to put it. And today for you listening, we
are going to explore the absolute masters of
skewering that exact hyper earnest obsession
so welcome to the deep dive thanks for having
me we have a fantastic and frankly hilarious
topic lined up for you today yeah we're going
straight into the legendary australian comedy
duo roy and hg such a great topic we've got a
comprehensive wikipedia article detailing their
incredibly prolific career i mean it's nearly
40 years across radio television and print that's
massive and Our mission today is to unpack exactly
how two men managed to create an entirely new
comedy genre simply by perfectly parodying the
self -important, overblown, and sometimes utterly
ridiculous world of sports journalism. It is
a massive undertaking to sustain a joke for four
decades, but a brilliant one. Truly. To really
appreciate what these two have accomplished,
you have to understand who they are pretending
to be. What's fascinating here is that we are
actually talking about two guys named Roy and
HG. Right. We were talking about two highly skilled
performers adopting ironclad personas. You have
Grig Pickhabber, who plays the character of HG
Nelson. Okay. Picture your classic, wildly excitable
play -by -play announcer. The guy whose veins
are popping out. Exactly. The guy whose veins
are practically popping out of his forehead over
a minor penalty in the first quarter. Yeah. And
sitting next to him, you have John Doyle, who
plays rampaging Roy Slavin. Rampaging Roy. Yeah,
he is the quintessential retired sportsman turned
stoic expert commentator. The kind of guy who
constantly implies that modern athletes are a
bit soft compared to his day. Oh, we all know
that guy. We really do. And they aren't just
telling traditional set -up punchline jokes about
sports. They are engaged in a brilliant decades
-long deadpan satire of media stereotypes. And
they never break. Once the microphones are on,
they never break character. They are entirely
committed to the performance. Okay, let's unpack
this. Yeah. Because to really get the genius
of their comedy, you just need to look at how
Pickhaber himself described it. Yeah. I was reading
through the notes, and in his 1996 book, which
has the incredibly evocative title, Petrol, Bait,
Ammo, and Ice. Great title. It really is. Yeah.
He summarized their entire comedic philosophy
in one perfect sentence. He said their style
was all about, quote, making the serious trivial
and the trivial serious. That is it. That is
the magic formula right there. If a player drops
a ball, They analyze it as if it's a profound
moral failing that impacts global diplomacy.
Yes, exactly. But if they are covering the actual
geopolitical news of the day, they treat it like
a minor scuffle on the sidelines. Right. It's
a total inversion of stakes. And they applied
that formula with astonishing success starting
way back in the 1980s. Well, their longevity
is almost unheard of in the comedy world, let
alone in a highly specific character -based act.
We have to look at their radio roots to see where
this all began. Let's do it. In 1986, Doyle and
Pickhaver launched a live, fully improvised and
highly satirical radio program called This Sporting
Life. Improvised. Entirely. And they broadcast
this on Triple J, which is Australia's national
publicly funded youth radio network. It's known
for being edgy, alternative and a bit rebellious.
Now launching a weird sports parody on an alternative
music station in 1986 might sound like a brief
experiment. Yeah, you'd think maybe a few months.
But they hosted that show on Triple J all the
way until 2008. Oh, wow. 22 years of continuous,
improvised, character driven broadcasting. 22
years doing the same bit on the exact same station.
Yeah. I mean, how does an improvised show even
maintain an audience for that long? I have to
imagine that kind of run leaves a massive cultural
footprint. It absolutely does. At the time it
concluded, This Sporting Life held the absolute
record as the longest running program in the
history of the Triple J network. That is wild.
And the cultural institutions recognized it,
too. In 2013, the program was officially added
to the National Film and Sound Archives Sounds
of Australia Registry, presuming it for history.
Wow, so it's literal national history now. Exactly.
And just to prove how beloved the audio remains
to this day, a 30th anniversary retrospective
collection of the show actually won an ARA award
in 2016. The ARAs. Yeah, the ARAs are essentially
the Australian equivalent of the Grammy Awards.
So 30 years after they started, they were taking
home major audio industry. trophies for best
comedy release. That brings up a huge question
for me, though. Did they just sit in a radio
studio for two decades riffing? on the daily
newspaper because to keep up that level of momentum
you'd think they'd have to interact with the
actual sporting world they were mocking oh they
absolutely embedded themselves into the real
events they took their act to the biggest stages
in the country doing what they called alternate
commentary alternate commentary yeah they broadcast
annual live calls of the country's biggest sporting
events the nrl and afl grand finals which are
huge massive for context the nrl is the national
rugby league and the afl is the Australian Football
League. These are the two dominant winter sports
in Australia, and their grand finals are basically
the equivalent of the Super Bowl. Right, so millions
of people watching. Millions. Roy and HG called
these broadcasts the Festival of the Boot Parts
1 and 2. Fans would literally mute their television
sets and turn up their radio to listen to Roy
and HG call the game instead of the official
network commentators. Muting the official broadcast
to listen to the parody instead. That is the
ultimate compliment. It really is. It means they
were more entertaining than the people actually
paid to analyze the sport seriously. And they
didn't stop there. They also provided live commentary
for the iconic Melbourne Cup. Oh, the horse race.
Yeah, the Melbourne Cup is a horse race so deeply
ingrained in the culture that it is literally
a public holiday in the state of Victoria. A
public holiday for a horse race. It is called
the race that stops a nation. And they also called
all three matches of Rugby League's annual State
of Origin series, which is. arguably the most
brutal, hyper competitive sporting rivalry in
the country. OK. So they were providing this
surreal, completely satirical audio track to
the most sacred cultural moments of the year.
Which perfectly illustrates the making the serious
trivial concept. But what fascinates me in the
source material is that they didn't even limit
themselves to sports. No, they didn't. They took
these two sports obsessed characters and dropped
them into wildly inappropriate non -sporting
settings. For instance, they provided live coverage
of the Australian Bicentennial celebrations on
January 26th, 1988. Yes. I am just picturing
these two treating a solemn historical milestone
complete with tall ships and political speeches
like a weekend. rugby match. That's brilliant.
Analyzing the pacing of the politicians, critiquing
the form of the flag bearers. It is absurd. It
highlights the versatility of their format perfectly.
The cadence of sports broadcasting can be applied
to almost anything if you are committed enough.
That's true. They proved this again decades later
during the 2007 Australian federal election.
They tackled the democratic process of choosing
a nation's leader with a broadcast hilariously
titled Indecision 07. Indecision 07. Right. They
took the ultimate serious event, stressful, rigid
political campaign, and gave it the rampaging
Roy and HG Nelson treatment discussing politicians
as if they were sweating overpaid athletes struggling
in the final quarter. That visual transition
has to be difficult, though. How do you take
a radio act that relies entirely on the theater
of the mind and put it on a television screen?
It is notoriously tricky. Watching two guys sit
behind microphones for an hour doesn't exactly
make for riveting television. especially when
the whole joke relies on you visualizing the
absurdity they're describing. And their very
first attempt at television was wildly experimental
because of that exact problem. In 1988, they
transferred their radio format to an ABC television
show called Blah Blah Blah. Okay. But they made
a very strange creative choice. On that show,
you could only see them in silhouette. Where
they move to a visual medium and they actively
hide their faces. Yes. How does a television
show even work if the audience is just staring
at shadows? It was a beautifully weird way to
introduce a radio duo to a television audience
without breaking the illusion of their characters.
By staying in silhouette, they kept that voice
of God radio mystique intact. That makes a lot
of sense, actually. From there, they had a real
mix of hits and misses as they figured out how
to exist visually. They found a major success
with a show called Club Buggery, which ran from
1995 to 1997. Club Buggery. It was so popular
it won a Logie Award for Most Outstanding Achievement
in Comedy. Remind me what the Logies are. The
Logies are Australia's premier television awards,
essentially their Emmy Awards. Got it. But there
were also stumbles as they tried different formats.
When they moved to the Commercial 7 network in
the late 1990s, they hosted an adaptation of
the American game show Win Ben Stein's Money.
Oh, I remember that show. Right. Well, they called
it Win Roy and HG's Money in the year 2000. But
the format just didn't quite click with their
specific brand of conversational satire. But
2000 certainly wasn't a bust for them because
according to our deep dive sources. That was
the year they struck absolute undeniable gold.
Oh, absolutely. The Sydney 2000 Olympics. They
launched a late -night commentary and interview
television program on the Seven Network called
The Dream with Roy and HG. The Dream. It wasn't
just a hit. It became a total cultural phenomenon
during those games. The Dream was a revelation.
It was so universally watched and quoted that
it actually won the Logie Award for Most Popular
Sports Program in 2001. I need to stop you there.
A late night comedy parody show won the National
Television Award for the most popular sports
program. Yes, it did. That has to be the ultimate
proof that they completely blurred the line between
satire and reality. It really is. And the reason
it worked so seamlessly during the Olympics is
because of the sheer volume of obscure sports
that suddenly fled television screens every four
years. Right. Normally, audiences are watching
sports. They understand. But during the Olympics,
millions of people are watching Greco -Roman.
women wrestling or dressage or track cycling,
and they have no idea what the rules are. I certainly
don't. Exactly. Roy and HG exploited that knowledge
gap. They use their mock serious tone to deliver
entirely fictitious facts about the international
competitors' lives, their strange training methods,
and their bizarre occupations back home. Just
making it up as they go. Entirely. The audience,
who knows nothing about these niche sports anyway,
is suddenly listening to these incredibly authoritative,
confident voices telling them absolute nonsense
and half the time people believed it. I saw some
of the terminology they invented in the notes,
and it is incredible. They didn't just lie about
the athletes. They invented wild terminology
for the venues themselves. Oh, yeah. During the
spinoff they did for the 2002 Salt Lake City
Winter Olympics, which they called the Ice Dream,
they focused heavily on the luge events. What
did they end up calling the track? They referred
to a highly specific dangerous section of the
Salt Lake City luge track as Gobbler's Gulch.
Gobbler's Gulch. Yes. They delivered it completely
deadpan, acting as if Gobbler's Gulch was a highly
technical, internationally recognized engineering
term for a curve on a sheet of ice. That is so
good. And because real sports jargon is already
inherently ridiculous, think of terms like pick
six in American football or a googly in cricket.
Gobbler's Gulch sounded perfectly plausible to
the casual viewer. That combination of high stakes
Olympic drama and lowbrow invented terminology
is so potent. But they pushed the joke even further
than just calling the races. I saw a note about
a fake Olympic bid they launched during the Winter
Games. What exactly was the Smig and Holes campaign?
This is a perfect example of their escalating
absurdity. During the ice stream, they didn't
just cover the sports. They launched... A fictitious,
hyper -patriotic bid for the 2010 Winter Olympics
to be held in a place called Smiggenholes. Smiggenholes.
Smiggenholes is a real place. It's a very small,
very modest ski resort in Australia. The idea
of this tiny village hosting the massive, multi
-billion dollar infrastructure of the Winter
Olympics is completely laughable. Right. But
they treated it with utmost sincerity. They created
merchandise -rallied viewers and pushed these
hilariously crass fake slogans on national TV.
television. I've seen these. The slogans were
Unleash the Mighty Mongrel, Winter Wonder Down
Under, and the absolute masterpiece. If you've
got the poles, we've got the holes. I am amazed
they could say, if you've got the poles, we've
got the holes in the national television with
the completely straight, earnest faces of veteran
sports anchors. That requires an unbelievable
amount of discipline. It highlights a really
crucial aspect of their comedy. They start with
a believable premise, a host city bid, which
is a staple of Olympic broadcasting, and they
push it until it breaks, but their tone never
wavers. Incredible. The dream format was so universally
loved that they brought it back for the 2003
Rugby World Cup with a show called The Cream,
and again for the Athens 2004 Olympics. So it
was a proven success. It was. However, the world
of television broadcasting is notoriously fickle.
Massive success one year doesn't guarantee a
permanent spot. By the time the 2008 Beijing
Olympics rolled around, the Seven Network actually
chose not to send Roy and HG. Really? After they
basically defined the cultural conversation for
the Sydney and Athens games? Why would the network
drop them? The network cited security concerns
and believed that their specific style of coverage
wouldn't suit Australian audiences because of
the time zone differences. Their show relied
on going to air live late at night after a full
day's events to recap the absurdity. And the
network felt the scheduling in Beijing wouldn't
allow for that same magic. But from what I'm
looking at a setback like. That didn't stop them
at all. They just pivoted right back to their
roots. Exactly. Instead of TV, they jumped back
to radio doing a daily show on Triple J for the
Bayesian Games called the Golden Ring Show. And
just to make sure they fit the theme of the host
nation, Root was styled as... Crouching Tiger
and HG took on the moniker The Hidden Dragon.
They always found a way to adapt to the moment.
They did. And speaking of adapting, they also
experimented wonderfully outside of the sports
realm during this period, which brings us to
a really unique, bizarre project they tackled
in the mid -2000s. Yes. Here's where it gets
really interesting. In 2005, they presented a
television show on the ABC. called The Memphis
Crowsers Half Hour. Yes. Now, this was not a
sports show. The premise of this show was completely
bizarre and utterly brilliant. What exactly were
they doing with this one? It was a fantastic
layer of meta -comedy. The premise was that the
show was recorded in various American cities
like Baltimore or Albuquerque. The idea was that
they were presenting everyday Americans with
new, completely fake facts about Australia. It
was designed as a parody of shiny, fast -paced
American talk shows. I love it. But the ultimate
punchline. The show was filmed entirely in a
studio in Sydney. They never left the country.
They were Australians in Australia pretending
to be Australians. in America lying to an imaginary
American audience about Australia. It is so deeply
layered. Yeah. But the title itself is what gets
me. The Memphis Trousers Half Hour. Where on
earth does a title like that come from? The title
is actually a very specific piece of Australian
political history. The name was inspired by a
highly publicized incident from the 1980s where
former Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser
actually lost his trousers in a hotel in Memphis,
Tennessee, under highly scrutinized and somewhat
embarrassing circumstances. That is incredible.
A former prime minister loses his pants in Memphis.
And over a decade later, these two comedians
elevate that embarrassing piece of political
trivia to the title of a national. Talk about
making the trivial serious. It perfectly encapsulates
their whole philosophy. And while we're on the
subject of their international flavor, I want
to briefly touch on their footprint in the UK.
Did their incredibly Australian -centric brand
of humor actually translate overseas? It did,
which is a real testament to how universal the
tropes of sports broadcasting really are. Whether
you are in Sydney, London, or New York, the self
-important sports announcer sounds exactly the
same. That's a great point. In 1997, they were
the stars of a massive ad campaign for Foster's
Lager in the United Kingdom. And of course, they
brought their unique hyper -masculine vocabulary
with them, using the unforgettable tagline, Tickle
it, you wrigglers. Tickle it, you wrigglers.
They were even a recurring guest on the BBC One
TV comedy series The Ben Elton Show in 1998.
Their particular brand of satire managed to cross
borders because the target they were mocking,
the media itself, is universal. And looking at
their modern era, they really haven't slowed
down at all. After wrapping up that massive 22
-year run on Triple J in 2008, they just kept
moving through the radio landscape. Starting
in 2009. They presented the drive time program,
The Life on the Triple M Network. Later, they
hosted a weekly program called The Sporting Probe
from 2017 to 2018. They even spent some time
in 2019 on the Macquarie Sports Radio Network
with a show called Just Short of a Length. They
just kept finding new platforms for the characters.
And eventually they found their way back to their
spiritual home at the ABC. In March 2020, they
returned to ABC Sport with a weekly Saturday
afternoon show perfectly titled Bludging on the
Blind Side. So good. And they are still crushing
the Olympics coverage, too. For the delayed Tokyo
Games in 2021, they hosted a daily podcast for
ABC Radio called Dodging Armageddon. Nice. And
just recently for the Paris 2024 Summer Olympics,
they presented a show called People, Medals and
Cheese. People, Medals and Cheese. Because, of
course, if you are covering an event in Paris,
you have to analyze the athletic achievements
and then you have to apply that exact same intense
scrutiny to the brie and the gruyere. They never
lose that surreal touch. But beyond just being
incredibly funny. There is a deeper reason we
are spending this time exploring their careers
today for our listener. There is. If we connect
this to the bigger picture, the reason Roy and
HG matter so much is because they actually provide
a masterclass in media literacy. Media literacy.
Think about what they are doing on a structural
level. They flawlessly mimic the cadence, the
pacing, the dramatic pauses, and the intense
earnestness of real news and sports broadcasters.
Right. car and weren't paying close attention
to the specific words, your brain would register
their voices as completely legitimate, authoritative
figures. Right. Because we are so conditioned
to trust that specific tone of voice. They sound
like the news. They sound like the experts who
are paid to tell us what is important. Precisely.
But the words actually coming out of their mouths
are absolute nonsense. By juxtaposing that highly
credible, polished delivery with completely ridiculous
content, they actively force the listener to
question the media they consume. It wakes you
up a bit. It does. They highlight the inherent
absurdities in taking anything too seriously,
especially in a modern media landscape that frequently
treats a dropped ball or a minor celebrity gaffe
like a profound global tragedy. Yeah, we see
that all the time. They remind us to listen critically,
to look past the confident tone of the talking
head on the screen, and to recognize the performance
inherent in all broadcasting. So what does this
all mean when you step back and look at the whole
picture? Roy and HG aren't just two funny guys
talking about football. They have executed a
masterful four decade long performance art piece.
Yeah they have. They took a single concept. parodying
the self -important sports journalist, and spun
it into radio records, television awards, and
international recognition. They transcended sports
entirely. I mean, their cultural impact was so
profound that in 2001, a portrait of the duo
painted by visual artist Paul Newton actually
won the Packing Room Prize and the People's Choice
Award at the Archibald Prize. Which is huge.
For our listeners who don't know, the Archibald
is one of Australia's most prestigious elite
art competitions for portraiture. These guys
went from calling fake luge tracks Gobbler's
Gulch to literally hanging in a fine art gallery.
Quite the journey. It's an incredible legacy
of making the serious trivial and the trivial
serious. It is a remarkable achievement in character
work and cultural commentary. And it leaves us
with something really vital to think about as
we go about our day. Let's hear it. If two comedians
can perfectly parody the deeply entrenched, hyper
-serious tropes of sports broadcasting for nearly
40 years just by slightly exaggerating its earnestness,
it raises an important question. What other types
of news media or daily entertainment that you
consume are just one slight exaggeration away
from being a complete joke? That is an amazing
thought to leave on. A huge thank you to you,
our listener, for joining us on this deep dive
today. We hope you walk away with a newfound
appreciation for the genius of Roy and HG and
maybe a slightly more skeptical ear the next
time you hear a very serious announcer talking
about the big game. Until next time, keep questioning,
keep learning, and we'll catch you on the next
deep dive.