Marching season is out, but the competition is only heating up.
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Section leader applications for the next marching band season at Halston University are officially open, and percussionist Bay Rodriguez wants the role.
Bay's only competition is Ca...
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AWAY GAMES SUCK FOR MARCHING bands.
Depending on the host school, your music is at best received with chilly, scattered applause, or at worst the ensemble is downright booed as you walk through a foreign campus and into a foreign stadium. Straight after classes on Friday, the marching band splits up by gender, filing into the buses to Pittsburgh.
The Halston Foxes spend Friday night in a more upscale hotel two blocks away, but we're in a Holiday Inn near Mt. Washington. People either sleep four to a room, spread across two doubles, but a lucky handful (with seniors getting priority) get two singles. I'm rooming with Quen, who sleeps like a rock—heavy and utterly still.
On Saturday morning, the marching band raids the continental breakfast on the ground floor, gets into our maroon-and-white uniforms, and buses to Rooney Field for a noon kick-off. As expected, no-one really pays much attention to our music. We're not playing the halftime show nor post-game show. We're just in the stands, delivering fight songs and pop hits, to make sure our football team isn't psychologically dragged down by the weight of the opponent's derision and home turf advantage. Go Foxes!
One advantage is: we're using this performance as a primer of some of the Eclipse music, which will be performed for realsies at the next Halston home game after the Thanksgiving break. Depending on how well the Foxes do, whether they make playoffs, that might be the last game. Eclipse will definitely be our last show.
In the stands, the drumline takes the front-most rows. For this game I'm playing center, drumsticks whirring and spinning expertly in a line with the other snares, cymbals hemming us in at either side.
At the end of the game (we lost, so the mood is downbeat) Keller gathers us in the backstage part of the stadium. "I know once we get back to the inn, I won't be able to get your attention again," in reference to the fact we'll be unleashed in Pittsburgh until tomorrow morning. She rattles off a series of instructions for checking out of our rooms. "If you miss the bus back to Halston, you'll have to find your own way home," and reminds us: "You're all adults, but you're still representing the university. You're also my responsibility until I get you back to campus. So if you do anything stupid, just don't let it get traced to me please."
The marching band members have varied interests. Some people are outdoorsy and want to do the walking trails and overlook climbs to see the city skyline (some of the less outdoorsy people are going to take a cable car or incline up the hill). The epicures want to sample the food and drink circuit and go shopping. The touristy, artsy sect want to visit the museums, conservatories, and galleries. People splinter into section and friend groups for the day, though tonight everyone of age (or wanting to try their luck with their fake IDs) plans to hit the nightclubs.
