The Secret Language of Airshow Narrators and How They Time Every Call

The voice booming from the PA system makes calling an airshow sound easy. “Here come the Blue Angels in their famous diamond formation…” But behind that smooth delivery is a skillset that takes years to develop and a secret language that most spectators never notice.

After interviewing veteran airshow narrators and studying their craft for a feature story, I discovered a hidden world of split-second timing, coded communications, and improvisation that transforms random flying into coherent storytelling.

They’re Not Reading a Script

The biggest misconception about airshow narrators is that they’re reading prepared text. In reality, elite narrators work from outline points and improvise the actual words based on what’s happening in real time.

“A script would be death,” says Rob Reider, one of the most respected voices in the industry. “Aircraft don’t fly to scripts. Weather changes things. Pilots modify sequences. You have to react to what’s actually happening, not what was supposed to happen.”

Narrators receive briefings from performers outlining their routines—the sequence of maneuvers, approximate timing, and critical moments. But the translation of those notes into engaging commentary happens live, with no teleprompter and no second takes.

The Radio Nobody Hears

While spectators hear commentary through the PA, narrators wear earpieces receiving a completely different audio feed. This “hot mic” carries real-time communication from performers, air bosses, and safety monitors.

A typical narration happens on two parallel tracks: the public voice describing the beauty of flight, and a private ear listening for “knock it off” calls, weather holds, or sequence changes.

“You might be mid-sentence describing a beautiful roll when you hear ‘aborting due to traffic,'” explains narrator Danny Clisham. “You have to smoothly transition from ‘watch this amazing maneuver’ to ‘the team is repositioning’ without the audience realizing something went wrong.”

The best narrators make these transitions invisible. The public never hears the stress in their ear or knows that commentary was improvised on the fly.

The Timing Is Everything

Watch a demo team performance while listening to narration, and you’ll notice the calls seem to anticipate the maneuvers. “Here comes the knife-edge pass…” seconds before it happens. This isn’t prediction—it’s memorization.

Elite narrators study team routines obsessively. They know that four counts after the solos begin their opposing approach, the jets will cross at show center. They know that the diamond roll starts exactly when Lead’s nose drops three degrees. They internalize timing until commentary becomes instinctual.

“I’ve called the Blue Angels demo probably 300 times,” says narrator Rob Reider. “I don’t think about timing anymore. My mouth knows when to say ‘sneak pass’ because my brain has synced with the routine over hundreds of repetitions.”

This timing mastery serves dramatic purpose. Building audience anticipation requires describing what’s coming just before it arrives. Call too early, and the moment feels disconnected. Call too late, and viewers see before they understand. The sweet spot—three to five seconds ahead—creates the “how did he know?” effect that makes great narration feel magical.

The Vocabulary Is Coded

Airshow narration uses specific language that sounds natural but serves deliberate purposes. Some phrases communicate with performers or officials while appearing to address the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the team is repositioning…” Translation: Something unexpected happened and the aircraft are regrouping.

“Due to the current conditions…” Translation: Weather or other factors are affecting the show in ways we’re not going to explain.

“For your safety, please remain behind the barriers…” Translation: We’ve noticed people trying to get closer and it needs to stop immediately.

“Let’s give a round of applause as they set up for their next maneuver…” Translation: There’s a gap in the action and I’m filling time.

These phrases maintain show flow while handling situations that would cause confusion if addressed directly.

The Physical Demands Are Real

Narrating a six-hour airshow requires vocal endurance that rivals stadium announcers. Throat lozenges, specific hydration protocols, and voice rest between major performances are standard practice.

“I lost my voice mid-show once,” admits narrator Herb Hunter. “Nothing teaches you about pacing like having nothing come out when you open your mouth. Now I plan my energy carefully—save the big dramatic calls for the major demonstrations.”

Sun exposure adds another dimension. Narrators typically work from exposed booths with limited shade. The combination of heat, continuous speaking, and concentration creates fatigue that compounds over multi-day events.

The Emergency Protocols You Never Want to Hear

Every narrator dreads the call they train for but hope never comes: an incident requiring emergency response. The shift from entertainment to crowd management is rehearsed but never comfortable.

“You have to keep people calm without lying to them,” explains veteran narrator Danny Clisham. “Something like ‘we’re experiencing a ground delay while crews address a situation’ buys time without creating panic. The worst thing you can do is go silent—silence lets imaginations run wild.”

Narrators receive briefings on emergency communication protocols before every show. The specific phrases and procedures vary by venue, but the principles remain constant: maintain calm, direct attention away from the incident, and trust that emergency responders are handling the situation.

The Art Behind the Craft

What separates good narrators from great ones isn’t volume or vocabulary—it’s the ability to make spectators feel what they’re seeing.

“Anyone can describe an airplane flying,” says Rob Reider. “The art is helping people understand why it matters. The history, the human element, the difficulty of what they’re witnessing. You’re not just calling a show—you’re telling a story about human achievement and courage.”

Great narrators research aircraft histories, interview pilots, and study the engineering that makes flight possible. This background knowledge transforms generic commentary into meaningful context that deepens the airshow experience.

Next Time You Attend a Show

Listen differently. Notice when the narrator builds anticipation before maneuvers appear. Catch the smooth transitions during delays. Appreciate the stamina required to talk continuously for hours while tracking multiple aircraft.

The voice from the PA booth is more than background noise. It’s a live performance as demanding as anything happening in the sky—invisible artistry that makes the visible spectacle comprehensible.

The best compliment a narrator can receive? You didn’t notice them at all. Their words felt inevitable, perfectly matched to the action, like the flying had its own built-in soundtrack. That effortlessness represents years of practice, study, and real-time improvisation happening just beyond what the crowd can see.