The Art of Gundog Commentary
Gundog Arena commentator Di Stevens explains how decades of competitive experience help her turn elite dog skills into human stories for the public
Q. How did you first make the transition from judging to commentating?
Di Stevens (DS): I’m extremely lucky to find myself in the fortunate position, after 30 years in the sport, to be able to commentate, judge and compete at every level of it. Of course, it’s a “ladder of experience” as such. First comes competing and proving your ability to train and handle a dog. Next comes judging, so you take on a mentor role, and that really opens your eyes to all the whys and wherefores of the sport. Finally, in my personal ladder anyway, comes commentating. To commentate well, I believe you have to have huge experience of the first two rungs of the ladder. This ensures the commentator is aware of exactly what the competitor is feeling, seeing and needing to assess. And you need to be able to understand the judge and why they make the decisions they make; what regulations and expectations they are operating under, and from what position. Then you need to be literate and have enough personality to explain that to the listening public and professionals in a serious but interesting way. That cannot be done from a one-dimensional perspective, in my opinion.
Q. A Game Fair crowd ranges from elite handlers to families with their first pet — how do you balance explaining technical field trial terms without losing the casual spectator?
DS: I believe it’s important to engage the crowd without either patronising them or blinding them with science. I use a lot of phrases like “as I’m sure a lot of you know…” and “…just in case you are new to this sport…” etc., so both experienced handlers and newcomers can listen and feel reassured that I’m speaking to them. The people who already know, and the folks who haven’t a clue what daft game we are playing here today. I run a very large pet gundog training business. My entry-level classes are absolutely at street level. Family dogs, often from urban areas with owners who have absolutely no knowledge of field work whatsoever. So, I’m pretty used to, and experienced at, “plain-speak” gundoggery. I do it all day, every day.
Q. The Gundog Arena is notoriously unpredictable; how do you prepare for a three-day stint of live commentary, and do you keep a “cheat sheet” of pedigrees and handler bios nearby?
DS: I prepare each year, firstly by having a chat with the judges. They are usually well known to me already, often personal friends, so I make a biography sheet on them to fill in the quieter moments. I go through every handler and dog’s name and make sure I can pronounce it. I write it down phonetically so I don’t mispronounce it… sometimes I call my European dog pals to seek instruction on how a Brit might say such an impossible-looking word. The organisers also arrange for each country’s team members to send me an info sheet filled in on each competitor and dog. This is really handy for adding the personal touch when commentating, so the audience doesn’t see a faceless handler. They see “Pieter from Belgium, who is an art teacher, and who has Daisy the Goldie sleeping on his bed every night”. I make them seem human, and then let their dog skills make them seem like gods!
Q. Having judged and handled at a high level, what specific traits do you try to highlight to the public when you see a top-tier retriever working?
DS: One of the most important themes I try to get across in my commentary is highlighting how the simple basics that all owners try to achieve — such as good heelwork, calm steadiness, and the basic stop whistle — come together in these harder tests; you can see how important and essential they are. I try to emphasise and highlight where those basics come in and how they are the foundation of everything. Achievable basics leading to the “fancier” stuff being possible. But without them? None of the harder stuff is possible… This is a huge theme. I also try to emphasise that the exercises aren’t easy; however, some handlers make them look that way because the dogs are well schooled. (I try not to highlight this when a less schooled dog makes it look like very hard work).
Q. What is the biggest challenge of commentating when a dog goes rogue or the weather turns against the handlers?
DS: The greatest challenge when a dog is not performing as the handler would want it to is not in any way criticising the dog or handler, except maybe in a gentle, lighthearted way. For example… “Oh! Maple is being a little cheeky here with her fingers in her ears!” Then, it’s important, when the handler does succeed, to turn it around and say, “How hard did Matt work then to pull that back? Great recovery!” and so on. But the crowd always loves a naughty dog because it makes them feel empathy for their own “naughty dog at home”; and so, the occasional failures get a bigger cheer than the dogs that ace it every time.
Q. Is there one specific moment or one extraordinary retrieve that still stands out as the most memorable to describe?
DS: I think in terms of memories, two of the years I’ve been commentating, a really obedient, driven Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever has run on the Italian team. I’ve seen him do some brilliant work, and it’s always noteworthy because there are so few at this level in the world. It is always a privilege to commentate on “Scotch”.
Q. What is the one “cardinal sin” or “don’t” that every commentator should avoid?
DS: I think probably something very important is getting the balance right between silence and talking. It’s great to give informed commentary, but mindless waffling for the sake of it is off-putting and invasive. Sometimes I’ll literally say, “Now let’s just sit back and watch this gorgeous dog who is trying his hardest to complete this course…” I also feel the spectators need information, but constant opinionating is unnecessary. The action in most cases speaks for itself, and you are there to support it, not try and hijack it.
Q. What advice would you give to someone who wants to try their hand at arena commentating for the first time?
DS: I would sincerely encourage anyone who fancies trying commentating to make sure that they listen to a number of commentators first. Judge how they felt about them. Did they seem to get the right balance? Did they have the crowd listening, or constantly chatting amongst themselves? Did they add anything to the party? I’d suggest then, when faced with an event, they should organise their notes carefully to grab them quickly, as you think you’ll have all the time in the world… but you just don’t.
Q. What is the most rewarding thing a member of the public has ever said to you about your commentary?
DS: It’s so rewarding, predictably, when the public come up to you afterwards and say you educated them a little or made things clearer for them. The most moving moment, a few years ago, was a daughter coming up to me afterwards with her elderly father. She told me that her dad was a long way down the road with dementia. He found it hard to concentrate for extended periods of time… but he’d sat all afternoon listening and clapping, and chatting to his daughter “like the old days”… she had tears, and so did I, as he hugged me!
That is, literally, worth every single second.
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