The 7 things the Channel 7 commentary team does that gives us the shits

Stevo knew it wasn’t really a liquorice ice cream, but he really enjoyed picking on the less intelligent kids in the class.

AN ADMIRED family member said it all when I pitched this article: “I’m shocked it’s only seven things.”

To be fair, I do watch a hell of a lot of footy with the sound off so I probably miss much of the turdnado that blows across our screens each weekend.

But Friday night I made the mistake of turning mute off briefly and the first thing I heard inspired this very list.

Say Orazio again, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker, say Orazio one more goddamn time.


There was genuine concern in The Hickey Stand household that BT was having some sort of stroke. But no, BT was just being BT – bothersomely turdlike.

Let’s make this clear: there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying ‘Fantasia’ in an excitable way. But the way BT says it sounds like the Eureka Hotel’s bathrooms at 3am on a Friday morning after uni night.

Stop, BT. Please just … stop.

Like astronauts being asked to perform heart surgery. Sure they’re good at being astronauts. But don’t let them near the scalpel.


We get it. You’re all mates and you’re all blokey but seriously, tone it down a bit.

Sure, it’ll be hard given you’re all ex-footballers … or the brother of the boss of football. But you can do it! Just try to imagine that it’s not just you in there. Try to imagine thousands of people are behind the camera that would like to join in on the fun.

I know that seems implausible but just give it a crack, yeah?

Paul Puopolo never suffered from Tall Poppy syndrome.


Look, we love Bruce. It’s nice having someone calling the game who hasn’t played it before. But his breathless, erotic call of “Poppppy” whenever Paul Puopolo goes close to take a grab is … disturbing.

It’s not just Bruce, though. Borthersomely Turdlike has a habit of using “Jakey” for every player named Jake (Jakey Carlisle, Jakey Neade, but never Jakey Kolodjashnij because that’s too many syllables for BT).

And then there’s the use of nicknames that the fraternity of footy-talking folk made up on the spot, like Jake “The Package” Stringer or Hayden “Infinitely Unlikable” Ballantyne.

Alright, we made the last one up but you get the point.

“Good game Aliir Aliir”. “Yes, you too, Majak Daw, most pleasing”.


At the other end of the scale is the use of full names when just a surname would do, and it mostly comes about when the name is somewhat foreign to the all-white panel.

Sudanese gun Aliir Aliir is constantly called as Aliir Aliir rather than just Aliir, much like how Lin Jong is very rarely referred to just as “Jong”. Then there’s Majak Daw, who I don’t think I’ve ever heard called simply “Daw”. It’s always “Majak” or “Majak Daw”.

And while we’re at it, how about just getting surnames right in the first place? It’s “Menegola”, not “Menengola”. Schooled.


Jason Dunstall with the underappreciated face race.


“And now it’s a foot race towards goal!”

What other kind of goddamn race would it be? A hand race? An egg and spoon race? A race around the world in 80 days?

Unless Phileas Fogg floats out from the stratosphere hanging Monsieur Passepartout out of a balloon by his feet in an attempt to snag the ball, “race” will suffice for now.

“Anddddd IiiiIIieeeeIIIiiii, will always love Puoooooooo, opolooooooo”


Sorry for trying to sound intelligent, I feel dirty. Let’s get right back to cuss words.

Not every fucking small Indigenous player is “Cyril-like”, no matter how hard the Channel 7 commentators want them to be. In fact, it’s lazy commentary.

Brandan Parfitt is not like Cyril Rioli. Nakia Cockatoo is not like Cyril Rioli. Christ, even Daniel Rioli isn’t much like Cyril Rioli.

“Gee, he looks a bit like Cyril doesn’t he?”. No. No he does not.

Jason Bennett. The most inoffensive looking and sounding man on the planet.


Jason Bennett most likely has other things going on. That’s understandable. He’s a busy man with his Aussies Abroad stuff and his VFL and AFLW commitments.

But Channel 7 should literally be throwing money at the bloke to lead the commentary team. There’s no bullshit with Bennett. He calls it straight, he calls it clearly, and he even throws in the occasional witticism without trying to be Dennis Cometti – because nobody ever will be.

It’s time, Channel 7. Make Bennett your lead man and consign Bothersomely Turdlike to pissing coaches off in the rooms after the game.


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