A summer of love with Rabs and Gus

For sporting fans sceptical of the merits of horse racing and motorsport, this time of year is quieter than Billy Idol at an NRL Grand Final.

It’s a time when many of us are left lamenting the need for ‘more power’ on the sporting landscape; a time when bizarre memories of Sydney winning the AFL and Melbourne winning the NRL are beginning to fade, but the summer’s first relevant leave-outside-the-off-stump still remains a few weeks away.

What to do in such a time? Some of the most desperate among us will watch the A-League; others pretend to care about the T20 Champions League.

Thankfully, I have not fallen that far.

I pass the time instead by listening to audio recordings of the mesmerising commentary of inter-generational life partners, Ray ‘Rabbits’ Warren and Phil ‘Gus’ Gould.

Lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling, I can almost see the poor refereeing and feel that desperately thick, yearning sexual tension.

‘Why was that a penalty?’ Gould demands of his much-adored senior commentator.

‘Oh I don’t know!’ Warren replies in loving remonstration, before adding, without meaning it at all, ‘Please stop asking me!’

Now I can picture some people wondering why anyone would bother compiling an audio recording of the best highlights of bickering shared between two commentators.

Well, as the NRL’s broadcasting negotiations stretched further than Joe Hockey’s attempt to liken the baby bonus cuts to China’s ‘one child’ policy, I began to hold serious fears about the future broadcasting of the game.

I had to wonder: what if the rights go to a network who employs young, switched on commentators who are interested in the game itself?

What then?

Would there be no more room for love?

As rumours of Channel Seven’s serious interest in securing the rights grew, so too did my fears. My time in the middle of the Warren-Gould lover’s tiff seemed to be coming to an end. No longer could I revel in the giggling exhortations of Warren telling Gould to ‘Shut up!’ (which I can only imagine were always accompanied by a playful grope of the thigh) if Shane Webcke was calling the action!

These Channel Nine commentators don’t just bring rugby league insight; they bring hope. If two ageing footy heads can find love in the commentary box, then anything is possible!

The glowing optimism so evident in their playful sniping was something I could not bare to be parted from. So I hit record.

Now, even after receiving the good news that Channel Nine will be continuing with commentary from the cliché-fuelled Wally Lewis, ranting lunatic Ray Hadley, perpetually slurring Andrew Johns and, of course, the beautiful bickering of the aforementioned smitten duo, I am still so thankful I took the time to record their words.

With nothing but Mark Nicholas and Ian Chappell to look forward to in the near future, these calming, familiar recordings are all I have left of footy season (casual reminders of Michael Slater’s incomparable Footy Show-hosting notwithstanding). In the dull, dreary sporting lull of October it their optimism, and the hope it instils in me, which I cling to.

These are the words that soothe me when the lack of meaningful television sport becomes too much. These are the words that console my broken spirit when Facebook runs rife with talk of Bathurst and, I dunno, golf or something. Even when cricket does come around, these are the words that will continue to speak to me the most.

When it all comes down to it, Ian Healy’s rambling about wicket-keeping technique has nothing on Ray Warren constantly, lovingly, interrupting Phil Gould’s ranting about the Video Referee.

So bring on cricket season, but I can never leave Gus and Rabs behind.