One thing I did find interesting on The Hardline: With the team dispersed and in different roles, there was a notable disruption in the rhythm from time to time. People not quite sure when to talk, when to stop talking, when to cut off a line of humor that was too inside, when to stop and let the other guy talk. Didn't screw up the show, just some passages of mild confusion.
Which brought to my recall that there's more to a successful show than strong, distinctive personalities who are enjoyable to listen to. (Yes, I enjoy Corby, as I do Jake.) There is that ineffable quality known variously as "comfort level," "familiarity," and "seamlessness," and probably some other words and phrases that aren't coming to mind. One of the thing that makes all of the shows on The Ticket great (and, I'm sure some would say, sometimes makes them stale) is that their participants have been doing it with one another for a long time.
It's not just the yuks -- we're drawn in as well by the cadences and rhythms of guys talking who talk -- and listen -- to each other a lot. The almost imperceptible undersignal to The Ticket's hilarity and chaos is on a frequency of old friends, and old friendships.
That's a gift, grown over years, and it renders counterprogramming almost futile.
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