Martin

"I'll see you next year!"

By December 1978, Martin Magee was ready to give up. 

For the better part of a decade, he’d been grinding it out in the comedy scene, performing in dingy dives and scraping by on lukewarm applause. His friends told him to pack it in years ago. “Get a real job, Murt, ye fat waster,” they said. But comedy was all Martin had ever known.

Now 34, with his savings gone and a mountain of unpaid rent, he was starting to think his friends were right. Except for the fat part... that was just harsh. On New Year’s Eve, he trudged into The Craic House, the only club in Dublin still willing to book him. The room was half-empty, the audience more interested in their pints than his set. 

But Martin was a pro, and pros finish their sets, even when no one’s laughing. So, he mustered a grin, leaned into the mic and delivered what he thought was a throwaway line.

“Well, folks... I’ll see you next year.”

Through the smoky haze, he witnessed something extraordinary. The crowd erupted into laughter, louder than anything he’d ever heard. People slapped their tables, doubled over, tears streaming down their faces. Martin didn’t quite get what was so funny—it was a simple joke—but the reaction was undeniable.

On January 1st, a columnist mentioned his act in the Irish Times:

Martin’s ‘See you next year’ brings the house down. A new classic is born.

By the end of the week, the joke had spread. Radio DJs were quoting it. Other comedians were copying it. And Martin? He was invited by Gaybo to perform on The Late Late Show.

Suddenly, Martin Magee was famous—not for his years in comedy, but for that one line. Every gig, every show, every interview began and ended with people begging him to say it. Finally, he got the national recognition he’d always dreamed of and he could pay his rent on time. He hired an agent to milk this cow for all it was worth.

Within weeks, Martin’s face and catchphrase were on t-shirts, mugs, and cereal boxes. The semi-autobiographical “See You Next Year: The Martin Magee Story” hit shelves in October 1979 and became a New York Times bestseller. The follow-up, 

“I Haven’t Showered Since Last Year!” achieved modest sales. 

But when the eighties rolled around, the novelty began to wear thin. Martin felt like a jukebox, repeating the same joke on command. At clubs, audiences heckled him if he tried new material. “We didn’t pay to hear your thoughts on The Troubles!” someone once shouted. “Say the line!” 

“The joke makes no sense now,” Martin argued. “It’s April.”

His frustration grew, and so did his drinking. By the mid-80s, the bookings slowed, and the merch sales dried up. His agent stopped returning his calls. So did his ex-wife. He spent most nights alone in his tiny bedsit, nursing a bottle of Tullamore Dew.

By December 1999, Martin was a shadow of his former self. On New Year’s Eve, he took the stage at a crumbling club in Athlone, serving as warmup act for Gary Glitter. The room was half-empty, the few patrons barely looking up from their drinks. As the clock neared midnight, Martin stared into the crowd, the words catching in his throat. He thought about saying something new, something real. But he didn’t. He forced a smile and croaked, “Well, folks… I’ll see you next millennium.”

There was a couple of laughs, but no cheers. No one asked for an encore. Martin shuffled offstage, collected his few pound, and walked home through the freezing streets, the sound of distant fireworks echoing around him.

On January 6th, Martin’s landlord found him slumped in his chair with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a Blu-ray copy of his critically panned rom-com, “God, I Haven’t Seen You Since Last Year!”, co-starring Michelle Pfeiffer, in the other.

The papers ran a short obituary: 

“Martin Magee, comedian and originator of the notorious New Year’s line, passed away this week. He was 55. He also invented email.” 

This New Year’s Eve, millions of people around the world will “pull a Martin”. Not in a sexual way or anything. They will utter those four famous words with no idea where it all began. But Martin Magee's legacy, and that one line, will endure on every December 31st for years and years to come. And for that we are eternally grateful. See you next year, lol.