The Scramble: What Happens When a Comedian Pulls Out Last Minute?
- James Gill
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read

Here at Always Be Comedy, we pride ourselves on curating line-ups that are worth the journey, the ticket price (these are still too cheap, guys), and that always deliver that electric ABC vibe.
We spend a lot of time crafting the perfect blend of established names, rising stars and the occasional wild card. It’s a labour of love, powered by coffee, spreadsheets and endless WhatsApp messages. And, just to be safe, more coffee.
And then comes the text message.
It often arrives with a string of apologies and a genuine sense of panic, sometimes a day, hours, sometimes minutes, before the doors open. A comedian has pulled out.
The Best and Worst of Excuses
Now, let's be clear: we are human. We get it. There are completely legitimate reasons why an act has to cancel, and we offer a hug (metaphorical or otherwise (having asked permission first)) every time. Illness, a family emergency, a TV shoot that’s over-running its schedule, or an unexpected travel disaster—these are the unavoidable realities of working in a freelance industry. When these happen, we sigh, wish the act well, and immediately go into full panic mode. Because that second coffee was actually a mistake.
But then there are the other reasons.
The reasons that feel, at best, incredibly flimsy. The one that sticks in the craw is the casual, "I'm a bit tired."
Dude. We’re all tired. Every single one of us. 24/7. We’ve been juggling ticketing, booking, newsletters, podcasts, blogs, the socials, posters, advertising, email admin – not to mention the actual gigs – and now a last-minute hole in the schedule. The two people manning the admin? They’re tired. And the audience—who are navigating rush hour, paying a sitter, and banking on a great night—they're probably exhausted too.
A comedian pulling out might feel like a minor change to them, but perhaps some acts don't realise the true consequences of leaving a gaping hole in a line-up. Especially at short notice (let's be absolutely clear: an on-the-day-pull because you're a bit tired is completely unacceptable).
The Panic: Reaching Out to Every Human Being You’ve Ever Met
When that text or email lands, the real work begins for the two of us. Our job in that moment shifts from promoter to emergency crisis manager. Imagine Jack Bauer in 24. Except it’s more high stakes than the end of the world (in our heads, at least).
It means, essentially, reaching out to every human being you’ve ever met. ("Mum?! Look, we know you've never done stand-up before and loathe attention, but this is your big moment...")
Our phones become furnaces. We’re scrolling through contact lists, firing off hopeful, desperate messages to every comedian, every agent, and every comedy friend we have.
“Are you please in town?”
“Do you please have anything on tonight?”
“Any chance you could please grab an Uber and save us?”
“Please, dear god, help us…” (sorry – that was a prayer, rather than a What’s App)
It’s a frantic, often fruitless process that consumes all our energy right when we need to be focused on setting up the show. Our primary objective is simple: find someone who will keep the punters happy and maintain the quality that ABC is known for. The audience has booked a great night of comedy, and we are not going to let them down because one act decided they needed an early night.
When the Comedy Gods Smile
But sometimes—just sometimes—the comedy gods decide to smile down on our panicked scramble. For example, we remember with vivid clarity the headline act pulling out the night before a gig. We immediately emailed to ask Al Murray (talk about aiming high with your first attempt), who immediately replied that he'd do it. All sorted within five minutes. Hallelujah. Of course, it's not always that way. Or else we wouldn't be writing this. We remember one on-the-day pull in particular that resulted in - conservatively - 12 billion emails, What's Apps, text messages and carrier pigeons being sent before we got someone.
This past Friday night, we had an act pull out for the most legitimate of reasons. We were already spinning, working the phones and trying to keep our cool (spoiler: in 14+ years of Always Be Comedy, we have not once kept our cool). We managed to secure the brilliant Jordan Brookes to fill that spot, which was a huge relief. Talk about funny bones. A win (and, boy, would he go on to smash the gig)! We thought we were done.
Then, a matter of minutes before the gig was due to start—when the lights were down and the energy was building (we’re really hamming this up for dramatic effect, so let’s just enjoy the adventure, yes?)—another piece of magic dropped on to our laps. The one, the only Roisin Conaty agreed to make her spectacular return to stand-up comedy and do a set. It was – and we’re actually not hamming this up now – the greatest comeback since Lazarus.
What started as a frantic, stressful, hole-in-the-line-up nightmare turned into one of the great mixed-bill nights in recent memory. The audience went wild, and the night was pure, unadulterated comedy magic. Each and every act – special shouts to Mike Rice and Celya AB as well – absolutely crushed.
But what the audience don't know (well, you do now) is how true the old paddling swan analogy is: on the surface, everything seems calm and serene (never "graceful", to be fair. Let's not go nuts); under the surface, you bet those feet are paddling frantically. And anxiously. And, actually, if you look closely at the swan, it's actually been crying and asking his mate Tim The Swan what on earth they're going to do? Is this the worst pull we've ever had? Tim The Swan tends to be the calmer swan, if we're honest, and reminds the other swan of the time an act simply didn't turn up to the gig and so that would be the worst one... Sorry, we're really getting bogged down in this swan analogy. All this swan talk is making us hungry for dried bread?
A Final Plea
So, what’s the lesson here?
If you're ill or have a genuine emergency, please let us know. We understand, and we will move heaven and earth to replace you.
If you’re just a bit tired, please find that last bit of energy. You are a professional, and you have committed to an audience. As Paul Merson (former Arsenal and England playmaker) once said of a certain footballer who seemed to miss a lot of matches: “You’re always playing with a knock!” No one has ever felt 100 per cent. If they have, they’re fibbing. We're typing this with a sore back and aching legs. And a newfound love of swans?
Don’t start pulling, thinking you’re doing us a favour! If you're a comedian reading this, thinking: "Do they want us to pull?" Good lord, no! Miracles can't always be pulled out of the hat (but, goshdarnit, we'll always try).
But for that one Friday, it showed the incredible power and camaraderie of the comedy circuit. Even when we're facing calamity, a last-minute pivot can sometimes turn a massive blow (relatively speaking, guys! When an act pulls, no one dies. The only thing that dies, in fact, is our sanity, mental health, grip on reality, and so on) into the biggest win.
See you for the next show—we promise the line-up is locked down (at the time of typing…).
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