Timing: Many amateur dancers migrate from Pro/Am events (an amateur dancing with a Professional dance partner) to Amateur Couple events (both dancers in the couple are amateurs) as they gain competition experience. However, we started competing as a couple as dance neophytes, the lowest form of competition dancer on the dance evolutionary chart. We are on our own, in a strange world where we are responsible for everything including mastering the single greatest dance skill: TIMING. Having grown up in the rock era of the 1970’s, I find my choice of music does little good preparing me for ballroom. Sadly, Zeppelin is not played. Timing can create a great stress on the beginning syllabus couple. Susie and I walk onto the floor, heads high, shoulders down, chests puffed up, like strutting peacocks. We stake our claim to space on the floor: “Mine…Y’all go away”. The Master of Ceremonies says, “Waltz music, please.” The music begins and panic slowly builds as my rock-music-scarred brain tries to process the beat. Nothing is coming to mind besides “Why am I here?” or “Why aren’t they playing Zeppelin?” Susie is starting to glare at me, her eyes conveying the message, “Hey partner, are we going to dance? You are embarrassing me.” Being impatient, she invites herself into frame and we just go with it. That is timing.

Guest Coach: As we progress into more complicated syllabus routines, it is inevitable that we would require lessons with a “Guest Coach.” Guest coaches provide a fresh perspective that can enhance your dancing. They can be brutally honest in their assessment. From my experience, a guest lesson means a beatdown on the male lead. Seems every dance error on this planet (timing, lady’s top line, lady’s position, world hunger) originates from the lead. In one of our livelier guest coach lessons, after we perform our routine and I am waiting for the hammer to drop, the coach comments in a sincere accented voice, “I just want to put you out of your misery.” She adds, “You are not smiling. Makes me feel sad. So, I score you at the bottom to put you out of your misery.” I turn to Susie, “We got to smile too?” 

Bronze Level: So proud to have learned a whopping two routines in two styles with boundless energy. As we progress through Bronze, we quickly discover that two lessons a week plus practice is not going to cut it. Everything is good except forgetting the routines in competition and witnessing the panic in Susie’s eyes. At one competition, as brain freeze sets in, I am scrambling to buy time. So, I insert a Standard routine into our Smooth event. No big deal, no harm done; it is just the first thing to pop into my head. Susie, from a follower’s perspective has a different opinion. Woe to the leader that changes a follower’s routine. She will probably pay for my headstone to include that little innocent mistake, or rent a plane sign and fly it over my funeral.

Silver Level: Coaching is becoming more critical. Now we must learn six routines (three for Smooth, three for Standard). It is difficult to learn six new routines. Both your studio and guest coaches increase the pressure evidenced by their priceless comments: “I did not see anything that aggravated me this time,” and “Almost pretty good,” or my favorite — “You are making my eyes bleed.” In practice, if we hear our coach bark a single shout, for instance, “Susie” (or “Chris”), it is a mild offense. If we hear a double, “Susie, Susie” then the lesson is not going well. But if the dreaded triple occurs, “Susie, Susie, Susie!”  prepare for a coach’s Hall of Shame moment. But remember there is no crying in baseball or ballroom. Without our coaches, we are nothing. Love on your coaches even when you hear the stories about how hard they had it at dance school. At the Silver level we also discover the words “quarterfinals and semifinals.” Stamina becomes critical. You now silently curse the people behind a 90-second Quickstep. But we forge ahead aided by our new six days a week dance schedule.