A Very Blustery Day

It was the day of our competition. We loaded the equipment up onto the coach buses and warmed up all the way down there, listening to a mixture of soul and Disney music. As we pulled into the the MICCA competition parking lot, the section leader put on the Blue Man Group soundtrack, and we got pumped as we changed into our uniforms. When we got out of the bus, we were blown back by a gust of wind. It was very strong and very cold. We looked at each other and unloaded the drums.

We warmed up again, trying to keep our hands warm and lose in the cold and windy weather. The drum major called us altogether for a huddle and we got energized and lined up to march into the stadium. Our section leader took us aside and we engaged in the usual "Mission Impossible" singing that bonded us together and got us focused.

We marched out onto the field, bracing ourselves against the wind. I was not having fun. Having a large bass drum protruding from your body is as good as attaching a sail to it. Because of my small stature, it was even harder to keep my balance. I looked over towards the rest of the bass line, whose panicked and grimaced faces told me that they were also struggling. The plumes on our hats didn't help either. The band was swaying in the wind, like trees. We must have looked so funny...especially the base line. We were battling the wind and ourselves, trying make ourselves stay still and face to the side. It was hard.

After the performance, we put our drums away and froze on the stands, waiting for the results. We got 2 stars overall, making us a below average band. The drumline got 3 stars, which made us average in the eyes of the judges. We were happy that we outscored the rest of the band (it inflated our egos), but wanted to be above average. For being blown about in the wind like a couple of leaves shed from a tree, I think the line did pretty damn good...