1. Not getting any laughs.

We’ve all performed a piece that didn’t quite receive the audience reaction we had expected it to. You might have anticipated that that one-liner would make the crowd go crazy, or that the climax of your speech would warrant a room full of tears. However, after looking up from your prose binder, you were faced with an unamused group. *cue the cricket sound effect* Better luck in the next round, I guess.

2. People laughing AT you.

Maybe your audience-reaction estimation is incredibly off or simply, you suck (like me). Last year, I competed in improv duo at a tournament. The topic we were given that round was a dramatic one -- not our forte. To say the least, our improvisational speech was difficult to watch and produced LAUGHTER from our competitors. (Keep in mind that the speech wasn’t meant to be comedic.) We didn’t place and my partner and I vowed never to compete in that event again. Clearly, my coach wasn’t in on that promise because I am participating in that improv duo again this year. Wish me luck.

3. Ripping your pantyhose.

This. Is. Inevitable. Or if you’re like me, this is inevitable at every, single tournament. Either your pantyhose gets caught on something and snags, or the wonders of the world work their way to ensure that you rip your CVS hosiery. Fortunately, every team has that one person who has hairspray (to prevent the rip from extending) or keeps an extra pair handy. Bless your heart, Hannah Meredith.

4. Receiving your ballots.

Hopping back on the bus is usually a rewarding time because you can congratulate your teammates for their accomplishments and even pat yourself on the back! But in the middle of blasting Drake & Future’s “Big Rings”, your coach hands you your ballots and you unleash your wrath for your judges. "How could he have rated me third? I was clearly better than Jessica and the sandwich OO guy!" "What did she mean my gestures were too robotic? I can't help that I have stiff joints!"

5. Beating one kid at a tournament but losing to them at the next.

After competing for a while in the same event, you will compete against the same people over and over again at different tournaments. So that's why it stings so much when you beat the Bridge to Terabithia kid at the Novice Tournament but lose to him at Milton County's Invitational, and it's probably not because you got worse or they got better but because speech is subjective.

6. Someone saying “Wow I'm really good at talking. I should do speech."

Nothing hurts more than when someone tries to brush off forensics for "competitive speaking". We spend hours internalizing, researching, reading, writing, cutting, splicing, talking to walls, writing feedback, perfecting accents, and winning state titles. So I'd like to see you spend your Saturday's "talking" all day.

7. Competing in more than one event.

Some tournaments will allow people to enter in multiple categories. When this happens you are known as "double-entered". Competing in more than one event is great for the NSDA points but bad for the lungs. Sprinting out of one round after delivering a ten minute speech to go to the next to deliver ANOTHER ten minute speech is exhausting, and doing it three times a day is just ... bad for my asthma.

8. Changing on the bus ride.

I don't know if my school is the only one that does this or not, but when we compete at schools that are three or more hours away, we get on the bus at 6 a.m. with our sweats on and later change into our speech suits. Changing into a skirt and blazer on a moving school bus with zero empty seats is an art form. Allow me to walk you through it. Ladies board the bus with sweatpants or leggings on with pantyhose underneath. Slip your skirt on over the leggings and then pull off your leggings. If you don't want to wear your blouse, you can simply wear a cami with a sweater on top until it's time to change. The process for men is similar except that they typically arrive at the bus wearing their slacks and change into a button-down and blazer later.

9. When you finally get first place but the trophy sucks.

Ahh yes!! Tournament after tournament has passed and your number never met the finals poster. You watched all of your friends pose with their tall, shiny trophies while you were behind the camera capturing the shots. Until now. You got first place! You won! Finally all of your hard work has paid off. You walk up to the stage, and accept your long-awaited trophy. Wait what's that? Your trophy has the wrong event written on it? Doesn't even say first place? It's made of WOOD? Join the club.

10. Drinking water and applying Chapstick before each round.

Doing these two things before you perform is a MUST. You don't want to be licking your lips or suffering from a dry mouth while delivering your speech now do you?! So apply that Blistex religiously and chug a bottle of Ice Mountain before every performance. You'll thank me later.

11. When someone asks for crazy time signals.

The time signals that some competitors ask for in their limited prep rounds are legitimately comical. "Hi, can I have a one at eight minutes, a peace sign at nine minutes, and a fire cracker at ten -- if I get there."

12. Waiting for finals to be posted.

The anxiety that comes along with pushing yourself through a crowd of people to see if you made it into the final round or waiting for the announcer to call your number might be even more nerve-wracking than the awards ceremony itself. A wave of relief encompasses your body when you see that you, indeed, will be in the top six. And if you won't be, don't fret, there will always be more tournaments.