People in the crowd just don’t understand. Sitting in the stands on a cold, dreary, and rainy night, fans are looking for excitement. Where do they look? They look to the halftime shows from the band, that’s where. Our performance, however, started weeks before that night when it all comes together. In school during band periods, we spent our time outside in the cold and sometimes rainy weather as we learn our drills and try to get it done quickly. After two to three days of learning drills and trying to put music to the drills, finally, the show starts to look like just that: a show. We continue to rehearse throughout the rest of the week.

No good performance can come without the “aid” of rain, so naturally, it rained all afternoon and evening on the day of the game. We didn’t even get a chance to run it after school because of the rain. All we could do was hope it went well. Because of the short bus ride to the game, we dressed in the band room, so we didn’t take any bags or cases with us, unless someone had a woodwind instrument.

The game at our rival school’s field began cold and stayed cold all night. We sat on the wet bleachers and readied ourselves to start to play, as the pregame activities were finishing up on the field. Our band director informed us that one of the kids in the other band came over to tell us to stop playing as a joke because we sounded better than they. With this inspiration driving us forward, we played and competed across the field with their band, trying to out do them. Playing was what kept us going through that long and boring football game. Rain was falling; the temperature was dropping; my trumpet was freezing cold, and our uniforms, as nice as they look, were very constricting and uncomfortable. Half time was coming and no matter how uncomfortable we were, we were ready to out do our rival’s band.

The usual butterflies appeared in my stomach, and I felt somewhat nervous. I thought to myself, ‘I sure hope we are ready.’ It was almost time to start. Four clicks from the snare and the cadence began, and we were marching onto the field. The announcer read the short paragraph, but I never have paid much attention to what they say. My mind raced, trying to run through each of the moves before we started. Finally, it was time to start, and our horns were brought up. As I played that first E with confidence, I moved along into our next drill. From that first note, the band sounded amazing even with the stinging, cold rain that ran down our faces. We progressed through our show, and as I looked up, I saw the crowd, cheering us on along the way especially for our final song, which incorporated a lively dance as well as the music.

The ending song “Party Rock Anthem” fired everyone up. We bandies were rocking out, dancing, and playing perfectly in the chilly Friday night air. F, F, and G, the last three notes to the song, just as any last notes, gave me the feeling that I gave a great performance. As we put our instruments down and I began catching my much needed breath. I stood there panting on that particular night thinking, ‘Heck yeah, audience, that was a good one, and I know it. I just hope your band is as good as ours.’ We played “On To Victory” our fight song, as we marched off the field, and I thought while playing, ‘We did it. That was our best yet. That was our perfect performance.’