Gap 06 · The scores
Open your site on your phone and it feels fine. That is the problem.
You are the only person who will never see your site the way a buyer does. Your phone already has it. Theirs does not.
A buyer arriving from your Instagram gets the whole thing fresh, on an ordinary mobile connection. Their phone is made to download 141 megabytes of video before they have asked to watch any of it. Six films start the second the page opens.
Measured that way — a new visitor, a normal mobile connection, an ordinary phone, which is the standard Google itself tests on — the main thing on the page takes close to four seconds to appear, the page is not finished until twelve, and nothing can be tapped for eighteen. Run it on a laptop and Google scores it 88. Run it as a phone and it falls to 67. The page has not changed. The connection was hiding it.
Research: 53% of people leave a mobile page that takes more than three seconds, and 79% who have a bad time on a phone do not come back. Nearly half expect a page inside two seconds.
Speed usually is not worth chasing — past a point, faster earns almost nothing. That changes below the floor. At 12 seconds this is not a refinement. It is the first thing worth fixing, and it is the reason a page you have never seen fail is failing for the people you have never met.
What your site hands machines about who you are was set up correctly, on purpose — including a deliberate choice to let AI systems in rather than lock them out. That part is decent. Not the best out there, but done right.
The two numbers below are also Google’s own, and you can run each yourself in under a minute. Neither is close.
Performance, scored by Google67Google puts that in the band it labels not optimized.
Google’s good band starts at 90
It is Google’s number, not ours, and it takes about thirty seconds to run yourself. A score like this moves a few points between runs. It has not landed in the good band on any run.
Machine readability33%One of three checks passes.
This is the score that decides whether the software answering questions about you can read your site properly in the first place. When it cannot, it falls back on the oldest description of you it can find — the same old numbers every engine on this page is still repeating.
The check that fails, confirmed.
Every AI that visits your site has a standard question it asks first: a short, plain answer for “what is this, in one line.” Yours has no answer prepared for it. That part is ordinary — most sites don’t. What is not ordinary is that your site does not say so. Instead of coming back empty, it hands the machine a copy of your homepage and tells it the question was answered. A question that should come back blank comes back looking solved.
The same thing happens with pages that were never built. Type an address on your site that does not exist, and it does not say so — it hands back your homepage again and calls it a match. Every search engine and every AI reads that as a working page.
And the instructions your own site gives Google for where to look next point at an address that stopped working in 2022. The address that actually works today is never given to it.
Three of your 11 listings carry a live link into that same stopped-working address — a marketplace profile called Talentrack, and both of your own Facebook pages. Talentrack tells the 537 people who view your profile, in your own words, to visit it. One of your two Facebook pages is the one your current website links to, and it carries exactly one clickable link — to that stopped-working address — and none at all to your live site. Its most recent post is from 9 May 2021. Anyone who follows that path meets a version of you five years out of date, then hits a link that goes nowhere.
Eleven is the number we finished checking, not the number that exists. One more listing turned up in an ordinary search and nobody has opened it yet.
141 megabytes, before anything is tapped.
Six video files are requested as your homepage loads — on a phone as well as a laptop, and not gated behind a play button.
This is not about the films. Footage of you working is the strongest asset you have and no honest report tells you to take it down. It is about what the page asks a phone to pull down before it will show anything at all.
Your homepage runs to 1,191 words spread across roughly 26 phone screens of scrolling — and most of that length is not words at all. It is two video strips, a photo gallery and twelve video players, one after another. You already know it is long. What is not visible from your side is where attention actually goes on a page that size. The Nielsen Norman Group has eye-tracked this for over a decade: 57% of viewing time is spent above the fold and 74% inside the first two screens. Everything after screen two shares the remaining quarter. The video players are what make your homepage long, and they are the same files that make it heavy — the structural decision and the performance number are one fact, not two.
Where the weight comes from.
Six films sit on your homepage, and every one of them begins downloading the moment the page opens — before a visitor scrolls, taps, or asks to watch anything. 141 megabytes, requested up front.
They are the right thing to show. Footage of you working is the most persuasive asset you have. They are simply being handed over all at once, to a phone, before anyone has said they want them.
Five pages, one page wearing five names.
Corporate, wedding, concerts, public speaking, sports — open all five and they run 407 to 435 words each, every one carrying exactly 13 buttons, and all six pages on your site, including the homepage, close on the identical sentence.
A corporate buyer researching you for a product launch reads the same page a wedding couple reads. Nothing on it was written for what either of them is actually trying to book.
The problem
Two scores, three broken answers to a machine, three live routes into a stopped-working address, and a homepage that asks a phone for more than it can carry.
What it costs
Every one of these is read by software before a human ever sees you. The first thing the internet learns about you is a failing score, and the buyer who arrives on a phone gets the slowest version of you that exists.
What changes
The page stops costing you the people who already decided to look you up. Someone arriving from your Instagram sees you inside two seconds instead of waiting eighteen for a page to become usable.
The films stay. They load when a visitor asks for them rather than before he has touched anything, so the most persuasive thing you own stops being the reason he never sees it.