Clay McMath

A full-court comedy hour from Clay McMath – once a promising hooper, now a man who still talks like he’s in the NBA playoffs, but mostly argues with dads at Bunnings. This is basketball-flavoured storytelling at its sweatiest: fast, loud, nostalgic and just self-aware enough to admit that the highlight reel is… mostly in his head.

Clay breaks down the evolution from “next big thing” to “guy who warms up for rec league like he’s waiting to check into Game 7”. He dives into the psychology of washed-up athletes everywhere – the secret shame of stretching for longer than the actual exercise, the way every injury becomes a Vietnam flashback and the ongoing war between the body he has and the body his ego remembers.

He takes you from dunking in China (yes, there’s footage; no, he won’t stop showing it) to the suburban battlefield where grown men fight over lawns, bins and who’s “still got it”. You’ll meet shady agents, delusional teammates and the kind of coaches who believed in him slightly less than his Year 7 science teacher.

It’s a fast break through ageing, fatherhood, competitiveness and the strange moment when you realise you aren’t an athlete anymore – you’re a guy who bought gel insoles “just in case”. Clay wrestles with masculinity, ego and the art of pretending you’re fine when your hamstring is hanging on like a loose USB cable.

But underneath the trash-talk and tall tales is a deeply honest look at what happens when the sport you love doesn’t love you back the same way. It’s part confession booth, part therapy session, part halftime speech from a coach who smells like Deep Heat.

Expect sketch-style moments, storytelling detours and play-by-play breakdowns of life after sport – the romances, the rivalries, the regrets and the redemption in finally accepting you’re built for laughs, not layups.

This is for anyone who ever chased greatness, lost a step, blamed the shoes and retold the story like it was a championship banner. For the dreamers, the delusionally competitive, the parents trying to convince their toddler that Dad was this close to going pro. For everyone who’s been humbled by age, injury or a 14-year-old who crossed them up at the local gym.

Ball Don’t Lie is an hour that celebrates failure, resilience and the hilarious truth that no matter how far you’ve fallen, you can still talk trash like you’re going first round in the draft. It’s sweaty, heartfelt, a little unhinged – and absolutely for anyone who’s ever had their ego dribble out of bounds.