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On The Road with Pete Murphy
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One and done —that’s how it started, a misguided but straightforward mission statement. However, we need to rewind a little before we get to that.
In the summer of 2023, my daughter and I rode across Europe to the Harley-Davidson Anniversary in Budapest with some friends, it was the road trip of a lifetime, 14 countries in 16 days on the way home she had mentioned some pain in her side which we both put down to doing nearly 4000 miles in the saddle, when we got home it didn’t go away and 3 weeks later she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, as a family our world collapsed, time stopped. The next twelve months felt like a dream, but after the surgery and three rounds of chemo, she got to ring the bell at the Beatson centre, and she has now been clear for over a year, and I’m thankful every day for that.
Keep it light, Peter, comedy publication.
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So, I wanted to give something back to Beatson. Kaileigh (my daughter) spotted an advert for Ultra Comedy’s 8-week course — training, then a gig. I could raise money for Beatson and, selfishly, tick “done stand-up” off the bucket list. One and done.
The fantastic Viv Gee ran the course. Viv is brilliant — generous, sharp, and hilarious. Honestly, if you’re in comedy and haven’t trained with Viv, do you even comedy Bro?
I completed the course, completed the gig, and raised approximately £2,000 for Beatson. Job done! I had a blast, but I had no intention of doing more. I met Billy Kirkwood years ago through wrestling, and we remain friends to this day. We had discussed my wanting to try it, but it seemed like way too much hard work.
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I was a professional wrestler for 15 years and retired in 2009, having main-evented a sold-out show at the Kelvin Hall, and was subsequently inducted into the Hall of Fame. I had done the road trips and the shit gigs in front of 9 folk and a dug, dodgy promoters, hours of driving for a 5-10 minute match (stop me if any of this is sounding familiar, comedy chums ) and at 55 years old, the thought of starting again as the oldest rookie in the game gave me the fear so One and done it was.
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Reading this back, it reminds me of one of my first gigs. I know the promoter is a shy, reclusive sort, so for his own anonymity, let's call him “Les”. He took me aside, told me to relax, go out there and do your stuff, remember to breathe, be aware of your time, but don’t worry about it, and most of all, enjoy it. This was word-for-word the “chat” I would have with new wrestlers on their first show as the grizzled veteran lol. I'd never been on the receiving end of the “chat” and I must admit it was good to hear, so thanks, Les. I use that mantra in my head every gig (and some date nights)
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About a month after the Ultra thing, a couple of the folks I had done ultra with were doing an open mic at Open Sauce, so my long-suffering wife and I thought we would go and show some support. Sitting at our table, I felt a tap on the shoulder, and it was Fergus, the promoter.
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“Someone’s dropped out, and a couple of the guys in the back said you might be up for doing 5?”
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Well, one more couldn’t hurt, could it?
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This is where I first met Tia Boyd, an absolute force of fucking nature, one of the kindest and most supportive people I have met in comedy, but, and I cannot stress this enough, a living, breathing nightmare if you're trapped in a car, on a 4-hour road trip to Dumfries
It went well, people laughed, nobody died, so I thought I'd try another one in the wild. I say in the wild, let me explain. Ultra is excellent; the tuition is the best you can get; the gig is fantastic, with 300 people all laughing and clapping - an amazing venue, professional lighting and sound, and the perfect environment.
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But it's not real, all the punters are there to support you or someone else on the bill, they are a tame crowd, it's like a school play or recital, no one boos a six-year-old Joseph regardless of his dream coat, and Ultra is a bit like that, it will be a while before you are back in front of 250/300 people, and sound and light can be a mixed bag from very good to a mic stand which is more Sellotape than stand, I’m looking at you Carruthers.
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I mention John as he was the one to give me my first gig in the wild, and a year later, we did a split bill at the fringe. So, when the eventual court case begins, Viv, Fergus and John will be the ones answering the “so what was your involvement in the run-up to the events in question”
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This was in September 2024. By April 2025, I had completed my first 100 gigs. I will be around 200 by Christmas (I stopped actively counting at 100, but I do confess to checking occasionally). My GICF show sold out in 4 days, and I’ve just finished my first Fringe. I've gigged in Ireland, Boston, Belgium, and all over Scotland from Elgin to Dumfries, fuck one and done, I love it, met some great people (and some arseholes), had some adventures and have a whole new volume of road stories.
Do I consider myself a comedian? Yes, from a distance, if you squint your eyes, in poor lighting, but there's still a lot of work to be done and dues to be paid. I have an ethos that I have lived by my whole life: if you want something, do the work. Doesn’t matter if it's career, relationships, new trainers, or even a shiny new mic stand, if you want the thing, do the work.
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I'm planning on doing two shows at the GICF next year
PEOPLE: fantastic idea, poorly executed
And
God Complex, which will be mostly improv, imagine you get to ask God one Question, you ask, I answer.
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I am, of course, in the meantime, available for bookings and tasteful nudity (if the script really needs it )
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On the whole, the Scottish comedy community are incredibly supportive and welcoming. I have tried to mention and thank as many as I can in this piece, but the list is endless. If I missed you out, I'm sorry; perhaps you weren’t as influential as you thought. Now go to your room and calm down. We will discuss this when your father comes home.
Keep up to date
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www.instagram.com/pirate_king_comedy/
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