Twenty-three days til our first competition. I’m already smelling the funnel cakes, hearing the freshman saying they feel sick, my own gut squirming, my fingers shaking, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of my cheek, a shaky breath, and then the next second I blink, everything is over. I hear the applause and I hope to feel a proud feeling once I’m done playing our show.
It means something to everyone. Parents get to see their children do what they love most. Coaches/Instructors get to see what they’ve worked extremely hard for come to life. The students get to go out there and have the time of their lifes. For those short couple of hours everyone is just in a bubble of happiness. Everyone has their favorite part, I’m sure. Mine and the rest of my band’s is halftime. Our time. It may be the time for the football fans to go get concessions and socialize but, for me, my band, and our loyal followers it’s time for the greatest feeling in the world. I honestly can’t even describe it half the time. Something like an outer body experience yet better, if possible. Marching out onto that enormous field, with hundreds of people watching you, lights shining down on you is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The best feeling in the world. Once the Drum Major counts you off it’s normally a blur. A blur of insane crescendos, intense visuals, and entertaining drill changes. And to the die hard band geek, it’s a blur of what they love most, what they live for, what keeps them going, they put everything they have into this and this is exactly what they want out of it. The over emotional feeling of putting on a spectacular show with people you love. You honestly can’t get much better than that.