The Strictly ethos - men who can’t dance are fools, women who can’t are ‘inspirational’

HAVING lived in Ireland for 20 years, and not being averse to a bit of the aul nostalgia, I am fully aware of the courtship rituals up and down this land back in the day.

The teenage dances and discos, the boys and girls separated, the nuns keeping good order, sometimes with the pelt of a ruler... it all sounds suitably horrific.

But then again, dancing in public is a universally horrific prospect for most young fellas.

And I mean fellas. Girls of all ages, shapes and sizes never seem to have a hang-up about getting on the dance floor and shaking all over around their handbags.

For boys, on the other hand, especially in the years before alcohol loosens inhibitions, the thought of shaking a tail feather in front of scores of people is akin to walking nude down the high street in one of those weird dreams.

My own memories of early teenage discos (when disco really was a thing) in England back in the late 1970s and early ’80s have similarly scarred me for life, even though the only nuns who attended were on fancy dress nights.

The girls would boogie and the boys would sprawl around in the seats until the last dance - the ‘shift’ I think you call it. This was signalled by the first strains of an ancient song (1960s) called Soldier Boy by The Shirelles, when girls would partner up back to back, link arms, and sway seductively.

It was only many years later that I learned this was all a set-up, to allow the girls to eye up any likely lads for the impending slow set.

In fact, when Soldier Boy reached its instrumental in the middle, the girls would swap sides, so they therefore could cast their eyes over both ends of the hall, no doubt tipping a wink to the fella they liked, and a smile at the reserve - a heir and a spare.

Us boys, thick as mince at this courtship lark, while probably believing we were firmly in charge, would then have to pluck up the courage to ask a girl for the dance as Soldier Boy made way for Three Times A Lady or How Deep Is Your Love.

Asking a girl to dance was excruciating enough, as you risked public rejection and humiliation in front of your cackling friends. But if the girl actually agreed, it then dawned on you that you had to conjure up some kind of movement that could sympathetically be described as dancing.

Let me tell you: dancing may come naturally to the female form, but it doesn’t to us males. For every Michael Flatley, there are 10,000 maniacs, bereft of any co-ordination, stepping on toes, mangling the lyrics, seemingly having a fit, lepping about and sweating profusely.

Watch a reluctant teenage boy on the dance floor, and he is either way too self-conscious, or, my god, he really needs to develop a sense of self-consciousness - and fast.

All of which is a great shame. Because dancing is one of the most exuberant, dopamine-inducing and exciting things a man can do with his clothes on - OK, maybe with his shirt off, if he’s feeling a bit John Travolta.

Years after those torturous teenage discos, when I plucked up the courage, I realised dancing could actually be great fun, and a fabulous escape. I could spend hours at weddings and on nights out gyrating - in my head, I am John Travolta, in reality I am more John Goodman, but what harm?

My point is, women need no encouragement to shake their booty, and men do, they really do. So many shy fellas must go through life without ever knowing the thrill of moving to a tune, no matter how badly, and that’s a shame.

All of which brings me neatly to that Saturday night phenomenon called Strictly Come Dancing.

The show has a long history of selecting a male celebrity with two left feet who can be roundly mocked by judges and audiences -- think broadcaster John Sergeant and politician Ed Balls.

OK, so those two played up to the buffoonery image, but still, what message does it send out to men thinking twice about getting on the floor? That unless you can dance well, we’re going to point the finger at you and mock?

Imagine sending that message to a woman.

However, last weekend really took the biscuit for me.

This year’s male stooge placed under the spotlight to give us all a giggle is former Arsenal and England soccer star Tony Adams.

True to form, he played it for laughs last Saturday night when he channelled The Full Monty vibe, then stripped to his sequinned shorts during a samba.

Oh, how we hooted.

Being an amateur, 55-year-old Adams didn’t perform the perfect routine, but he clearly put a lot of effort into it.

Then the reviews came in, and Adams was ritually humiliated, dissected like a dead rat.

The famously hardline Craig Revel Horwood awarded him a paltry 2 out of ten, the normally generous Shirley Ballas gave just 4. Adams finished bottom of the pile of all the contestants on 18/40.

What was interesting was to then see two women perform what I would describe (albeit unchivalrously) as poorer routines.

However, comedian Jayde Adams and Paralympian Ellie Simmonds won praise for simply turning up; no cold professional eye was cast on their techniques, as had happened with Adams.

Simmons waltzed off with a score of 29 and Simmonds got 27.

The vibe was that these women were inspirational. Jayde’s performance was ‘body positive’, we were told, while although Simmonds made some basic errors, she was ‘so-so nervous’.

Judge Motsi Mabuse then really took the biscuit by saying of Simmonds: “It’s so beautiful to tell everyone that dancing is inclusive for everyone.”

Well, from where I’m sat, it doesn’t appear to be too inclusive for the poor aul fellas.

Look, I know it’s only a bloody TV show, and Tony Adams is a big boy well able to take a slagging.

Even so, words and impressions matter among viewers, and my take away from Strictly Come Dancing is that female viewers are constantly being encouraged to get out on the floor - even though I never met one who lacked the courage to do that - while men, who really do need words of encouragement, are deemed suitable targets for jibes and mockery.

It was interesting that Adams channelled The Full Monty, as the plot at the heart of that great film was about a man called Dave (Mark Addy) who can’t pluck up the courage to dance.

You would think a show like Strictly Come Dancing would be encouragement to guys like him - it blatantly isn’t.