The Ed Balls guide to winning
What is it about the former MP’s approach to ‘Strictly’ that has made him such an unlikely hit with viewers, asks
Even in the
world that is 2016, Ed Balls becoming the ballroom dad-dancer of people’s hearts is one of the most unforeseen storylines.
This is not a drill, not a mescal dream, it’s happening. Every Saturday night, 10 million of us turn on the telly to watch the former shadow chancellor, chairman of Norwich City Football Club and senior fellow at Harvard University hoof and gurn his way across the sprung floor with his partner, Katya Jones: barrel chest out, face glowing with sweat and surprise, waving vaguely at the beat.
This is the glitterball light in the midst of shade, the comedy we needed to see us safely to the shores of Christmas.
Not everyone is thrilled, of course. Pantomime baddie judge Craig Revel Horwood, could barely conceal his contempt on watching Balls’s checkshirted, barnstorming Charleston to commenting crisply: “That’s a sight I don’t think I ever want to see again,” before awarding him a tart three out of 10. Even the nation’s Grandpa, Len Goodman, had a note of exasperation in his voice as he conceded: “You’re improving!” It wasn’t a compliment. There are mutterings that Balls’s continued presence in the competition despite solidly anchoring the bottom of the leader board each week is stealing a place from one of the more talented dancers. There are rumours that some hope the extra weekly dance the show introduces at this point might have been enough to see him off last night, though it’s easy to argue that adding an extra dance won’t make a difference as viewers aren’t really tuning in to watch his perfect cha-cha-cha. But it’s hardly surprising Balls has won over so many hearts (even BBC director-general, Lord Hall, called his salsa “Gangnam Style” and “a national moment”), for he embodies that most noble of British archetypes, The Plucky Trier. While we can admire the polish of Danny Mac and the elegance of Louise Redknapp, they were never going to get us cheering from our sofas in quite the same way as Balls. As a nation, we have always loved those courageous souls who take on improbable challenges such as going to sea in a bathtub, since it shows spirit – although not if they need to be rescued, as that goes against the other great British quality, self-reliance. And, of course, Balls has one very special advantage over other contestants. We are a sophisticated nation – we never tire of balls jokes. If you spend a very public lifetime being the butt of balls jokes, it certainly builds character and encourages humility, which is always a good thing.
Personally, I am not entirely surprised by The Balls Phenomenon. Each year, I help organise events for Stoke Newington Literary Festival, and last June I saw a glimmer of Fun Balls when we invited him to take part in our annual gastro salon. At the point at which panellists read out favourite pieces of food writing, Balls read
complete with actions and special voices, then treated us to a few bars of his favourite karaoke song,
Not quite what we’d expected, but the audience loved it, and you certainly got the feeling he relished undoing the suffocating stays of party politics.