A Peak At An Alternate 2021 Timeline, Part 3: sectionals
by Norm Ramil, 8CA main person and dance team fan
2/2/21 2:45 pm
Ok, I know, I know — I’m posting this on what would usually be the week after IHSA State weekend. Now that we finally know that this year’s sectionals will be virtual, it’s still worth it to take a peek at what your typical sectionals experience might be like. Time to switch over to our alternate reality timeline, a normal and non-Covid 2021!
Mid- and late-January for dance teams and coaches is a battle between reason and emotion, left brain / right brain, left Twix / right Twix.
Here’s why. The numbers-oriented side of your brain has a set of data to play with. You’ve got recent scores from your conference comp, your January comps, and then maybe you give a little less weight to the numbers from November and December.
The passionate side of your mind tries to envision what a costume enhancement might do for your overall effect on the floor. A hair tweak. Adding intensity to one moment in the music to make that one trick really pop (which keeps me busy, so thanks!).
So there’s your brain’s logical and artistic sides, both working together and sometimes pulling in different directions, a little like opposite personalities on the same team.
Add in the next element. It goes my many names: chaos, fate, uncertainty. It goes way beyond, “that girl might slip on her icy driveway, and that girl could get her hands on a sketchy burrito, and that other girl’s cough has gone from annoying to ewwwww.”
Instead, I’m more talking about the uncertainties that send you down the rabbit holes of guesswork. Like these:
Who will be the judges? Which dance is that one team bringing? What do their floor lines and tip-off circle graphics look like? Which dance are WE bringing? Why are both of our routines scoring about the same?
Do we add more difficulty? But doesn’t that set us up for being less clean? Do we even have a choice, since our scores seem stuck? What does Norm think (jk, guys)?
And then you start staring hard at the sectional lineup. Maybe four spots are locks for the strong teams. Could be four other teams going for 5th and 6th.
On my end, sectionals are much less stressful but still a challenge. The staffers are mostly back at college, so we’re stretched thin. I’m just so blessed to have a team of dance alums who loved their sport so much that they’re willing to sit in the bleachers and watch a day of competition! Or in this case, sit in their dorm rooms watching a livestream.
It really does take a team to pull it off. 8 Count Audio is so committed to the most complete sectional coverage possible. Every single team is invited and most are done for the season at the end of Sectional Saturday. So it’s our one chance to make sure everyone feels welcome, gets a positive shoutout, and a share of the spotlight.
Obviously we’ve got the problem of several events going on at once, spread out across a good chunk of the state. Timing is tricky. I map out the approximate times that each sectional result might be announced. I look for potential conflicts, like, “Will that sectional announce its qualifiers at the same time I’m busy reporting on the sectional I’m watching?” Sometimes the only solution is to hope for the best! We’ll get it all reported, mostly on time.
Walking into any sectional site, you immediately feel the tension. It’s just quieter, and not because there are fewer teams in the building at any one moment. Somehow it feels like popcorn and Dippin’ Dots are out of place, like someone selling hot dogs in a courtroom. It feels like the rules are tighter, both the spoken and unspoken ones.
The fans feel it, too. Your parents and friends can be the loudest they’ve been all season, but the feel of it isn’t quite as exuberant as it was at, say, Batavia in December or Mahomet-Seymour in January.
Your team’s mindset might not be anything like that of the team going right before or after you. Some teams know they’re locked-in to a state appearance and are here to try and snag a sectional plaque. Other teams just want to run their statebound routine one more time against tough competitors.
Maybe you’re a bubble team, teetering on the edge of making it or not making it, depending a lot on what other teams do and / or how much you and your teammates step it up. Or perhaps you’re a team that feels like it can push its way into the state field, currently an outsider, but potentially a qualifier if you pour everything into this one performance. Lots of IFs and POTENTIALs and MAYBEs and YA NEVER KNOWs… All of it, though, is way better than the dreaded 7th place spot.
This moment’s been on your mind all winter, and now it’s here. You stand at the endline, the last time you’ll dance on a basketball court this season (unless you’ve qualified for IDTA state). The wait between routines is like that dot-dot-dot as you wait for a friend’s text reply.
The walk-on. Maybe the last walk-on. The love from your fans? You hear and feel it, rather than see it. A captain runs out of position to check the initial formation and spacing. Depending on the site (there’s no standard rule), the announcer might say something like, “____, the floor is now yours for competition,” one of those phrases that’s both useful and extraneous at the same time. The floor really is yours. All that’s left to do is to command it and live up to this moment!
The first millisecond of sound surges out of the speakers.
Every artful skill, every count, every moment between the counts–it’s all scrutinized by the judges as they start to form the idea of a number range in their minds. There’s no way to know if what you’re doing at any one instant of this season-making or season-breaking performance is pushing that number up or down. The music stops, you hold, and you leave the floor with practiced dignity and purpose.
You catch your breath in the hall, hug your teammates, and let your temperature drop a couple degrees before claiming seats on the team side of the gym. You’re watching, examining other routines and doing calculations with the rubric in your head and probably a different one in your heart.
Fast forward to waiting for results. On the floor with you are maybe 14, 15, or 16 other teams. Some are just taking in the moment, knowing it’s the end of the line. Other dancers are hoping for a miracle, while trying not to make it look like they’re hoping for a miracle.
Depending on where you’re looking at that moment, your first clue that the results are imminent is someone handing a sheet of paper to someone else with a microphone. If that’s out of your view, then that first syllable over the loudspeakers is as dramatic as a sudden power outage. A girl on your team sets up her phone in the middle of your circle, capturing the moment you find out what your plans are for next weekend.
Once the “give your parents and coaches a big round of applause” is out of the way, it’s time for the big reveal. Most sectionals, Geneva being the exception, announce the state qualifiers backwards from 6th to 1st. Hope slowly erodes for those bubble teams as we inch our way toward 1st place. By the time we get to 4th, I can read some faces out on the floor that look like, “OK, got it…we didn’t make it, and I’m bummed but it wasn’t that unexpected.” It’s the kind of news that’s not exactly welcome, but can still get you to smile or chuckle.
The worst, though, is when you get to 3rd and 2nd. The calculations and guestimates all kick in. I don’t want to see it, but it’s inevitable that I’ll spot dancers facing the awful realization that they’re not going to state even though they had a decent chance, a legitimate hope. They know that 2nd place and 1st place will both belong to those two teams (the ones you knew were going to qualify but haven’t been announced yet)…and not my team.
Not that the “in no particular order” method of announcing the qualifiers is necessarily better. Fans have to somehow contact their coaches to find out what the placements are, and what the score intervals are (assuming she even has the scoresheet yet). Or you can keep refreshing the IHSA page, hoping that the info is already up (it isn’t).
Out on the floor I have to be able to quickly switch between congratulating and consoling. I’m ready for two distinct and very opposite types of hugs. It’d be easier if I were more of a detached type of personality, but nope–I’m an all-in, passionate, and emotionally-driven individual. Depending on those scores and those cold, impersonal rankings, I’m sharing in your triumph, elation, relief, or crushing disappointment. These rare moments call for unfiltered emotion. This is no time to hold back or be strong. Let those fists pump, let those heads sink. This time and place are known for both types of tears. The hell with smudged makeup or how we all look in the pictures.
All 90 state teams shift to cleaning, sharpening, and polishing. Those that were already pretty much statebound can finally focus on the next step. Other teams celebrate getting in to the state lineup. Their new job: keeping up the momentum of a really good Saturday in late January.
Blocks of hotel rooms change hands. Parents drag their luggage and overnight bags out of the closet. You hit the Target travel aisle for the necessities of a road trip to Bloomington. You know you’re living a good season if you’re asking yourself after sectionals, “What do I need for STATE WEEKEND (and any possible hotel mischief)?”
This bus ride’s next stop is Bloomington in Part 4 of our series on what we’d be doing in a normal winter. For now, soak up the positive vibes of our newly revived 2021 season! This calls for extra marshmallows in your hot chocolate (but do keep that mask handy).