Another year, another Strictly Blackpool no-go.  Every year, I enter the BBC lottery for tickets to see the show; every year, I fail to win.  To give them their due, the BBC are very polite about informing me of my lack of success but, once, just once, it would be nice to receive that email from them that says I am a winner.

Perhaps I am being defeated by my very modesty?  I am not incontinent in my application for Strictly tickets.  I don’t want to go to the Opening Show; don’t want to attend the Final; have no interest in being present for the Halloween Special; am perfectly happy watching Show Week in front of my telly.  But Blackpool.  Blackpool is different.  I would like to go to Strictly Blackpool.

I have never been to Blackpool.  I live in the South.  Why would I?  It is not part of my heritage.  I need a special reason to go to Blackpool.  An invitation.  It’s not going to be through attending a Party Political Conference; not likely to be to watch a football match; not even because I play the French Horn and have to attend an annual orchestral convention.  Strictly is my only chance.

So, fingers crossed for 2025.

© Stephanie Snifter

Stephanie Snifter believes 2025 is going to be her Strictly Blackpool year.