Author's Note: This series is meant to be a spin off of the disgruntledbandgeek's series, The Band Camp Chronicles. The only difference is the author, the time period, the point of view, the style of writing, the main characters, the good the bad and the restless...etc. Please enjoy. Oh! By they way, the names for the directors are completely made up, so that no one can take offense. Thank you for reading!
The Quest to be a Band Nerd
Chapter 1: Pre UIL
***SIDE NOTE***
I would like to take a tangent from the story that has not yet begun, to inform you of the constant struggle over what we Band devotees should be called. Many a day I contemplate this struggle. Should we be known forevermore as lowly band geeks? Or should we be forever glorified as the geniuses known as band nerds. I have come to my conclusion, despite the desperate attempts of countless freshmen to change my mind. Band nerd is the true name for our calling, and therefore that is what I shall be known as, and I will where a badge of honor towards this extravagant fact. Band nerds we are, and band nerds we shall forever be! And besides, I am older than the freshmen, and I say band nerds, so I win! Band geeks...Pf!
Back to the story at hand...
In the beginning, there was nothing but darkness. Then the band was invented. It was good, and there was much rejoicing. The band soon evolved from the extremely deprived concert band into the wonder we all know and love today, marching band. This modern day concept is the heart and soul of many, and initiates our wonderful tale...
There once was a band from Texas, known as the DHS band. (I would tell you a little more, but that gets too personal and a little creepy...) This band had marched all summer long in the 110° heat, only to find themselves at their first hurtle in the marching band season. This extreme hardship and effort has brought the band to their first competition, Pre-UIL. This contest was constructed for the benefit of bands competing in the UIL competition, and is meant to be an accurate assessment of the band's marching technique and playing skills. However, on this dreaded day, something horrible was about to happen...
This is gonna be great! Thought James as he fingered through his part in the marching show. He was sitting in his cramped bus seat with the other saxophones, singing the melodic line softly. Soon the entire bus was buzzing with the sound of out of tune, untrained voices, screeching out their favorite song, Baba Yaga. Now, it is to be known that these band nerds were not in choir for a reason; but band nerds will be band nerds, and they continued to sing random pitches aimed in the general direction of their notes in the tune.
As the buses pulled around the corner and into the drive for the stadium, the bandies all became quiet and nervous, waiting for the announcements of their band director. The drum major, Shelby, was yelling at people to shut up, while the low brass was still carrying an off tune in the back. It had been raining off and on all day, and was currently in a non-rainy period.
The bandies were told to get off the buses, and take their instruments out. The percussion, low brass, and low woodwinds all ran to the truck to get their instruments out and get ready for their performance. They formed a single file line, and headed to the warm-up area. Mr. Schnott led the group in a quick long tone exercise, while he sent groups off to tune. James, like always, took a few minutes to achieve a proper tune on the note. The trombones took forever, because they didn't remember to tune in long first on concert F. After the tuning and warm-up was finished, the bandies were led around the back of the stadium to their entrance point.
This is awesome! Thought Becky, one of the aspiring trumpet players. I just hope it doesn't rain...
As they stood there listening to the other band perform, they wondered how they would do. Suddenly, the signal was given, and the bandies were led out onto the field. They had five minutes to set up everything, warm-up (on field), and prepare to play. The pit scrambled to set everything in the right spot while the band played their quick warm-up. Everything was ready...
As they played through their opener, the trumpet solo was ruined, and the notes were out of tune. The soloist had just shown his natural stupidity, and pierced his own tongue. Anyway, the song went fine, and headed straight into one of their favorites, Baba Yaga. This song was a fast, in your face kind of song, and was enjoyable to march to, even if the drill was less than great. Halfway through Baba Yaga, the rain began to pour down. I'm not talking a sprinkle here, a drop there; I'm talking all out downpour! That wasn't even the worst part. This rain was no ordinary kind of cold rain; it was freezing rain. It was cold enough to snow!
The bandies began to shiver as they tried to march through their parts and play. The woodwinds were panicking as their instruments began to mold in front of their eyes. The brass players' fingers were so frozen, they cold hardly push down the valves. The color guard had sponge-clothes, and had to dance the rest of the show in soaking wet dresses. The pit could not play their parts, because their hands were frozen to the mallets. At the end of the show, the band was forced to march a long precession around the track of the stadium, still in the rain.
"This sucks!" stated Jenna, a section leader of the clarinets, and master of the obvious. "Put your instruments in your jackets!"
So, the entire band was forced to march the slow promenade around the track in the ice-cold rain, not even able to feel their fingers. As they arrived at the place for taking pictures, the entire band split up and formed a full-out sprint to the buses. Their show had gone downhill from the point the first drop of rain hit, on. They were dismayed as they returned, only to find that they had achieved the rank of fourth out of five.
"Hey, it's not that bad," Ben, boner leader, thought aloud, "At least it wasn't last!"
"The fourth band didn't show up," retorted Kim, the other drum major.
The whole band was dismayed from that point on. And so ends the tale of Pre UIL, known now only as Pre UIhell...
Author's Note: I just wanted to state that this is more or less a true story, and that I will be continuing this series of anecdotes with more or less made up tales from this point on, to further the enjoyment of my readers. I would also like to acknowledge that only some of these names are real, but they will be showing up much more often then the made up ones.
The Quest to be a Band Nerd
Chapter 1: Pre UIL
***SIDE NOTE***
I would like to take a tangent from the story that has not yet begun, to inform you of the constant struggle over what we Band devotees should be called. Many a day I contemplate this struggle. Should we be known forevermore as lowly band geeks? Or should we be forever glorified as the geniuses known as band nerds. I have come to my conclusion, despite the desperate attempts of countless freshmen to change my mind. Band nerd is the true name for our calling, and therefore that is what I shall be known as, and I will where a badge of honor towards this extravagant fact. Band nerds we are, and band nerds we shall forever be! And besides, I am older than the freshmen, and I say band nerds, so I win! Band geeks...Pf!
Back to the story at hand...
In the beginning, there was nothing but darkness. Then the band was invented. It was good, and there was much rejoicing. The band soon evolved from the extremely deprived concert band into the wonder we all know and love today, marching band. This modern day concept is the heart and soul of many, and initiates our wonderful tale...
There once was a band from Texas, known as the DHS band. (I would tell you a little more, but that gets too personal and a little creepy...) This band had marched all summer long in the 110° heat, only to find themselves at their first hurtle in the marching band season. This extreme hardship and effort has brought the band to their first competition, Pre-UIL. This contest was constructed for the benefit of bands competing in the UIL competition, and is meant to be an accurate assessment of the band's marching technique and playing skills. However, on this dreaded day, something horrible was about to happen...
This is gonna be great! Thought James as he fingered through his part in the marching show. He was sitting in his cramped bus seat with the other saxophones, singing the melodic line softly. Soon the entire bus was buzzing with the sound of out of tune, untrained voices, screeching out their favorite song, Baba Yaga. Now, it is to be known that these band nerds were not in choir for a reason; but band nerds will be band nerds, and they continued to sing random pitches aimed in the general direction of their notes in the tune.
As the buses pulled around the corner and into the drive for the stadium, the bandies all became quiet and nervous, waiting for the announcements of their band director. The drum major, Shelby, was yelling at people to shut up, while the low brass was still carrying an off tune in the back. It had been raining off and on all day, and was currently in a non-rainy period.
The bandies were told to get off the buses, and take their instruments out. The percussion, low brass, and low woodwinds all ran to the truck to get their instruments out and get ready for their performance. They formed a single file line, and headed to the warm-up area. Mr. Schnott led the group in a quick long tone exercise, while he sent groups off to tune. James, like always, took a few minutes to achieve a proper tune on the note. The trombones took forever, because they didn't remember to tune in long first on concert F. After the tuning and warm-up was finished, the bandies were led around the back of the stadium to their entrance point.
This is awesome! Thought Becky, one of the aspiring trumpet players. I just hope it doesn't rain...
As they stood there listening to the other band perform, they wondered how they would do. Suddenly, the signal was given, and the bandies were led out onto the field. They had five minutes to set up everything, warm-up (on field), and prepare to play. The pit scrambled to set everything in the right spot while the band played their quick warm-up. Everything was ready...
As they played through their opener, the trumpet solo was ruined, and the notes were out of tune. The soloist had just shown his natural stupidity, and pierced his own tongue. Anyway, the song went fine, and headed straight into one of their favorites, Baba Yaga. This song was a fast, in your face kind of song, and was enjoyable to march to, even if the drill was less than great. Halfway through Baba Yaga, the rain began to pour down. I'm not talking a sprinkle here, a drop there; I'm talking all out downpour! That wasn't even the worst part. This rain was no ordinary kind of cold rain; it was freezing rain. It was cold enough to snow!
The bandies began to shiver as they tried to march through their parts and play. The woodwinds were panicking as their instruments began to mold in front of their eyes. The brass players' fingers were so frozen, they cold hardly push down the valves. The color guard had sponge-clothes, and had to dance the rest of the show in soaking wet dresses. The pit could not play their parts, because their hands were frozen to the mallets. At the end of the show, the band was forced to march a long precession around the track of the stadium, still in the rain.
"This sucks!" stated Jenna, a section leader of the clarinets, and master of the obvious. "Put your instruments in your jackets!"
So, the entire band was forced to march the slow promenade around the track in the ice-cold rain, not even able to feel their fingers. As they arrived at the place for taking pictures, the entire band split up and formed a full-out sprint to the buses. Their show had gone downhill from the point the first drop of rain hit, on. They were dismayed as they returned, only to find that they had achieved the rank of fourth out of five.
"Hey, it's not that bad," Ben, boner leader, thought aloud, "At least it wasn't last!"
"The fourth band didn't show up," retorted Kim, the other drum major.
The whole band was dismayed from that point on. And so ends the tale of Pre UIL, known now only as Pre UIhell...
Author's Note: I just wanted to state that this is more or less a true story, and that I will be continuing this series of anecdotes with more or less made up tales from this point on, to further the enjoyment of my readers. I would also like to acknowledge that only some of these names are real, but they will be showing up much more often then the made up ones.