After radio controversy, career twists and a return to his first love, Marty Sheargold proves the best response is still a room full of laughter.
FOR most Australians, Marty Sheargold is the voice that greeted them on the radio, the sharp wit behind countless television appearances, or the delightfully awkward Ray Gruber from Fisk.
But ask Sheargold how he defines himself and the answer comes quickly.
“Stand-up comedian.”
It’s the role that came long before breakfast radio, long before television fame, and the one that continues to carry him through life’s ups and downs.
As he takes his Red Card Tour, Sheargold is returning to the craft that started it all.
“People sort of go, ‘Oh, does he do stand-up?’,” he laughs.
“When really, that’s what I always did. That was my first job.”
Like many comedians, Sheargold discovered early that making people laugh was often easier than trying to impress them.
“When I was a kid, you were either punching on or getting laughs,” he said.
“I went for getting laughs.”
The future comedy star wasn’t exactly the toughest kid in the playground.
“I was 42 kilos and frightened of my own shadow,” he joked.
Fortunately, self-deprecation turned out to be a far more sustainable career path.
Radio, surprisingly, was never part of the grand plan.
A few guest appearances on Triple M’s The Cage led to an opportunity in Adelaide and before he knew it, he was spending more time behind a microphone than on a comedy stage.
“I just never got out of it,” he said.
“I couldn’t seem to get fired. I tried as hard as I could on numerous occasions.”
After stepping away from the comedy circuit for several years, Sheargold returned in 2019, only to discover that experience doesn’t make anyone immune to nerves.
Comedian Tom Gleeson warned him it would take three years to feel comfortable again.
“He wasn’t far off,” Sheargold said.
“There were gigs where I’d drive home thinking, ‘What am I doing? I’ve never been funny. I’ll never be funny again.'”
Thankfully, the doubts didn’t last.
The return reminded him why he fell in love with live comedy in the first place — the unpredictability, the challenge and the instant connection with an audience.
It’s a world away from radio, which he describes as relentless and often isolating.
Television has provided its own highlights, particularly Fisk.
After hearing Kitty Flanagan was creating the series, Sheargold actively chased an audition, recording a self-tape during Melbourne’s COVID lockdowns.
“The scripts are so strong,” he said.
“It’s really a case of getting out of the way and letting the script do the work.”
Yet for all the success, the past year hasn’t been easy.
“The phone hasn’t rung in 14 to 16 months,” he said.
“Thank Christ I’ve got stand-up because if I didn’t have it, I’d pretty much be out of the business.”
When asked to sum up this chapter of life in a single word, his answer is immediate.
“Challenging.”
The Red Card Tour — cheekily named after the controversy that dominated headlines following comments he made about the Matildas during his radio career — isn’t about settling scores.
Instead, audiences can expect stories about family, ageing, growing up and trying to make sense of a world that seems to move faster every year.
“It’s really observations about life,” he said.
Which is fitting.
Because after decades in comedy, radio and television, Marty Sheargold remains exactly what he has always been, a bloke with a microphone, a sharp eye for life’s absurdities and an uncanny ability to make people laugh at them.
Marty Sheargold brings his Red Card Tour to Logan in October but tickets will sell quickly, via the Logan Arts website.
