‘Roast’ will help channel your inner insult comic

Comedian Jeffrey Ross shares secrets every roastmaster should know by dishing out stories from his humble beginnings, behind-the-scenes tales, secrets to writing jokes and more in “I Only Roast the Ones I Love: Busting Balls Without Burning Bridges.” The following is an excerpt.

A Roastmaster Must Dance
Back in the day, comedians didn’t just tell jokes. They sang, juggled, did card tricks and impressions, and even danced. In fact, Don Rickles still breaks out a little soft shoe during his headlining performances. To be a great Roastmaster, one must also be a multifaceted showman.

So when I was invited to compete on “Dancing with the Stars,” it was no surprise to my family that I agreed wholeheartedly. However, my comedy pals seemed rather shocked when they found out I was going to be a contestant. Drew Carey said, “Does that mean they have to change the name of the show?” Drew was merely pointing out that winners of the coveted mirror ball trophy are usually Olympic athletes or Super Bowl champs — not shlubby comics with a broken hip and high blood pressure. But I have the heart of a champion, even if the arteries are clogged.

I had even won a dance contest once at summer camp, by shaking my chubby eleven-year-old ass to Wild Cherry’s classic, “Play That Funky Music, White Boy.” Then, as a teenager making salads and fruit cups at the catering hall, I would occasionally take a break and peek into the ballroom through the little windows in the swinging kitchen doors and watch the well-dressed party guests attempt everything from the hora to the hustle. In college, I even went through a slam-dancing phase until my elbows swelled like grapefruits.

Since then I’ve always been open to trying new styles. So now I figured, why not try ballroom dancing? I further reasoned that learning how to cha-cha-cha on national TV would be a fun way to pay homage to the multitalented Roastmasters who came before me. To regain the flexibility of my youth, I started taking classes at a local yoga studio.

I loved going there every day. It reminded me of when I went to karate classes a kid. Barefoot. Solemn. Weirdly Asian. Ever since I earned my black belt at the age of ten, I’ve understood how much hard work it takes to master a physical art form. I was determined to take that knowledge and winning spirit with me onto the dance floor.

However, I soon discovered that my competition included Olympic gold medalists Misty May-Treanor and Maurice Green, Super Bowl champ Warren Sapp, Grammy-winning songstress Toni Braxton, soap opera diva Susan Lucci, Oscar-winning actress Cloris Leachman, celebrity chef Rocco DiSpirito, sex taper turned reality TV star Kim Kardashian, model turned mother of four Brooke Burke, and former boy bander turned even more gay Lance Bass. (Lance is a classy guy. He sent everybody in the cast a bag of Blow Pops on our first day.)

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In all, there were twelve other celebrities dancing with twelve professional ballroom dancers. That’s one more couple than they usually have, making it the biggest season ever. The head bookmaker at the Wynn Casino in Vegas predicted me to finish dead last at 50–1. I figured being the underdog could only work in my favor.

On the first day of training, I showed up at the rehearsal studio and met my new dance partner, the infamous Polish princess of the ballroom Edyta Sliwinska. A world-class competitor, Edyta has been on the show every season, yet she has never won the trophy. In fact, she came in second the previous season and was a fan favorite to go all the way this coming season. At least, she was until she got teamed up with me.

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