Len Goodman: ‘America’s gay community attacked me for saying something that was totally innocent’ – The Telegraph

Professional ballroom dancer Len Goodman was head judge on Strictly Come Dancing from 2004 until 2016. 

After leaving Strictly, he became head judge of the show’s American version, Dancing with the Stars. The upcoming season launches on September 19 (available on ­Disney+). 

He owns a dance school, the Goodman Dance Academy in Dartford, and lives in a converted Grade II-listed pub in Ightham near Sevenoaks with his wife, Sue Barrett. 

Strictly Come Dancing celebrates its 20th anniversary this year, and the first live show will air on Wednesday.

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Best childhood memory?

My mum had two sisters. They both married American GIs, and moved to Vancouver. In 1950, when I was six, my aunt Gladys came home to visit. She brought with her a full cowboy outfit, with a waistcoat and a gun you put talcum powder in, so it looked like smoke when you pulled the trigger. It was just after the war, and no one had anything. It was the most fantastic gift I’d ever been given.

Best day of your life?

My wife Sue and I got married in 2012 at the Mosimann’s Club in Belgravia. We met through dancing years ago. When you get to a certain age, you realise the most important thing is family. 

My son James [Goodman’s son with a previous partner] and his wife Sophie are lovely, and I’ve got two wonderful grandchildren, Alice, seven, and Dan, three. They’re terrific. With grandchildren, you have all the joy without the responsibility, because you can just hand them back.

Best celebrity encounter?

Celebrities I meet on Dancing with the Stars often say to me, give me your number, I’ll call you up. No one has ever phoned, except Jerry Springer, who is one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He called me up and said: “Len, I’m in London, fancy having lunch tomorrow?” We went to Scott’s, and he paid. He’s a marvellous conversationalist. 

He wasn’t a very good dancer on the show, but he was good fun. His daughter, who is blind, was getting married, and he wanted to learn to dance so he could do the waltz with her at the reception.

Best holiday?

My favourite trips are always in this country. Sue and I went on a tour of Scotland in the car, just the two of us, and as soon as we put the stuff in the boot, we felt as though we were on holiday. We stayed in York on the way and visited the Isle of Skye. I like golf and walking, and I’ve got no patience with airports and with queuing. You feel like cattle, and you never know if the flight will be on time.

Best career moment?

When Bruce Forsyth knocked on my dressing room door to say hello an hour or so before the very first Strictly show. I’d grown up watching him on Sunday Night at the London Palladium, and he was generous, kind and thoughtful. No one was really interested in ballroom dancing at the time. It was a risk, but the BBC had the nerve to go the whole nine yards and put it on live on a Saturday night, right from the start.

Best advice?

A really good piece of advice that has always helped me, subsequent and prior to Strictly, is to be yourself, and be honest. You can’t go wrong. I always try to be honest with my critiques, my opinions and my scores.    

Worst childhood memory?

I grew up in Bethnal Green, and in 1953 there was a Queen’s Coronation street party with trestle tables. There were currant buns, and while I wasn’t keen on buns, I loved currants. I picked them all out and saved them in a scrumptious pile. A woman came along and said, “Don’t you like currants?” and nicked them. I’ve never forgotten it. As you can probably imagine, I had a pretty fabulous childhood if that’s my worst memory. I had a very loving family.

Worst characteristic?

The worst thing about getting old is that like everything else starts to conk out, so does your memory. It happens a bit to me now that I can’t remember anything. It’s bloody sad, but what can I do? I did a quiz show recently, and one of my questions was “Who is in charge of the Labour party?” I couldn’t remember.

Worst dance?

People tend to remember the bad dancers on Strictly. When Ann Widdecombe danced with Anton Du Beke, she was very funny, although she was a terrible dancer. John Sargeant and Russell Grant were also memorably terrible. But Ricky Whittle, who you might not remember, was marvellous, as was Natalie Gumede. 

Strictly’s worst dancer was motoring journalist Quentin Willson, who received the lowest score ever given in the first series. But it doesn’t matter if you’re the worst or the best. The one thing you mustn’t be is boring.

Worst thing about Strictly?

Strictly opened up opportunities, like presenting BBC One’s Holiday of My Lifetime and Len and Ainsley’s Big Food Adventure. But I had to give up teaching dance to ordinary people in my dance school, because there was no time. I still miss it. 

I took up dancing myself because one of my mates used to go. I was sitting in a pub and said, “Do you want to go to the pictures?” He said, “No, I’m going ballroom dancing.” I said, “Oh, shut up.” He said, “Len, there’s loads of girls, virtually no boys.” So I said, “Oh, well, I’ll come as well.” So there you are.

Worst health scare?

About 10 years ago I had prostate cancer, like lots of blokes do. That was a shock. The funny thing is, when you’re ill, you expect it to be painful. You can understand it if there’s a terrible pain in your leg. But there was no pain. I went to the hospital and, touch wood, all is good.

Worst thing about social media?

I don’t like it. I was on Twitter years ago for a brief time, but they’re mad. There are the most awful people on it. I remember coming home one Saturday night and I couldn’t have said anything too terrible, maybe I’d given someone a low score, but I got all this stuff like “I hope on your way home you have a car crash and die.” That’s the sort of thing I got. So I stopped using it. It’s no good unless you’re a Piers Morgan type who’s got very thick skin and doesn’t care.

The absolute worst

I understand that things change, which I agree with – however, I find it very easy, without meaning to, to say something that’s not PC. I don’t mean to do it, and suddenly I’ve said something and put my foot in it. That’s partly the reason I’m glad I’m not on Strictly anymore. I’m sure I would have said something inadvertently that was not acceptable to certain people. 

It happened when NSYNC’s Joey Fatone did a rumba, and his arms were too soft. Whenever I critique, I think of positives, like “I must say, your posture was great” and also something to help, but I said “I would have liked it if your arms had been stronger, they were a little bit airy-fairy.” Airy-fairy. It’s a saying I’ve used all my life, but I got America’s gay community attacking me for something that was totally innocent.

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Len Goodman is supporting Remember a Charity Week (Sept 5-11), which encourages people to leave a gift to charity in their will. To find out more, visit rememberacharity.org.uk