You've heard the congratulatory phrase "Give it up for So-and-So". So, here's a variation:
"Can I just say, you gotta give your hands off."
~~ Mark Stone, SEN, Port Melbourne v Box Hill
The work experience team of Mark Stone, Tony Schibeci and Mark Franklin won't be winning any footy media awards. But you never know, it's not as if there is great depth of talent covering our footy.
Seven's Friday night team of McAveney, Cometti, Buckley & Matthews has been terrific since they ironed out the kinks last year. Pity about The Delay. And their Sunday afternoon call has always been a fun filled affair.
ABC radio pulled me away from 3AW and SEN and ended the season as my preferred broadcast. Even with Howdy Doody Drew's 1970s stylings.
MMM is footy for teenage boys.
Ten aims about ten years higher: footy for 20-something boys.
Gerard Healy: Best Special Commentator – Television
Dwayne Russell: Best Football Caller – Television
Dwayne is a hipster smartarse. You'd think that after saying "It doesn't get any better than that" for the 100th time he'd twig to the inherent flaw in the the previous 99 instances. Chuck in "the paint" which is unfortunately catching on, and "gives it some sky" which is close to the most aggravating phrase I've heard in sport, especially the way Dwayne scrapes it across your ears, and you have one irritating commentator.
Dwayne must have picked up votes by comparison. I mean, while Healy is passable despite style over substance concerns, the commentary of Danny Frawley and Glen Jakovich is completely dreadful. It doesn't get any worse than that.
MAYBE it was during a particularly frenetic moment in a game when a football caller's scream could be heard above a passing 747, yet it was impossible for the listener to discern what was happening outside the commentary box.
SHE has been nicknamed Flash Gordon for her daring Brownlow frock, but Melbourne socialite Brynne Gordon is standing by her unusual blue carpet gown.
Gordon, 26, the fiancee of controversial medico Geoffrey Edelsten, made a jaw-dropping fashion statement in the plunging, black, sheer, beaded, showgirl ensemble, complete with Swarovski Crystal-encrusted bra, at the footy gala on Monday.
While the outfit came in for heavy criticism from talkback listeners and website readers, Gordon said she loved the frock, by US label Nurielle. "I loved what I was wearing. I felt beautiful," she said yesterday.
Elsewhere: What would happen if you gave this answer?
Katherine Firkin (Confidential reporter): "That is absolutely stunning; you look beautiful tonight. What do you think, Scott?"
Scott Pendlebury: "Urr, yeah, tops last year, for sure."
Have you been wondering what the fook happened to British comedy? How many British shows over the last, say, 15 years have funnied your tickle bone? The Office*, Knowing Me Knowing You, I'm Alan Partridge, Father Ted, The Royle Family? Sparkling-white comedy. Pity you had to trip over them to discover they were on TV. Instead we get slop like Little Britain; miss-and-miss sketch comedy like Armstrong and Miller (whoever green-lighted a show in which a comedy duo basically imitate another comedy duo, in this case Flanders and Swann, needs their head examined); and assorted middle t'road suck-fests like My Family. There has even been the previously unimaginable observation (laugh-track included): "American comedy is now better than English comedy."
Comedyologist, Tony Martin, on what has happened to the best of British:
Does it render a review worthless when the reviewer makes a fundamental mistake of fact? Not always. But that doesn't mean the mistake won't be plonked on the internet for the whole world to point and jeer:
The Wire Larissa Dubecki
BALTIMORE, the capital of the US state of Maryland, was meant to be synonymous with the novels of Anne Tyler but The Wire is no finely wrought, keenly observed white-bread kitchen drama with a tear jerking finish. On the contrary, this HBO series does for Baltimore what the Troubles did for Belfast.