A/N} I wrote this for English. We had to write a memory paper, and this is what came to my mind. It takes place, October, 2000, at the state marching band competition. Janet is my friend Ami/Slugmistress. Mr Lovell is obviously our director. Eric and Sarah were the drum majors.
***Memory from the Year 2000***
The wind blew harshly as we stood in the stands, waiting for the announcer to finish awarding the medium-band division awards and move to the large-band division awards. I watched as others bands celebrated their victories or mourned their defeats.
"And in the large-band division," the announcer began.
"Band! Aten! Hut!" Eric, the drum major, barked in a low voice.
"ONE!" we replied, equally deep. We stood up straight, arms at our sides, faces
expressionless, at attention.
We listened as McQueen High School won the award for the best drum line, the best drum major, and the best winds. We watched as Green Valley High School, Las Vegas, won best flag corps. A brief look of sadness crossed most of Elko's band members' faces as we accepted that not any one thing in our show was the "best".
"In third place," the announcer started, and everyone silenced, "Robert McQueen High School!"
Janet grabbed my hand. As we stood there next to each other, hands squeezing tightly in anticipation, we both knew what the other felt: Even after winning three out of the four caption awards, McQueen had come in last.
"Second place goes to . . . Elko High School!"
Janet and I dropped hands. The realization hit us. Neither of us noticed the blistering wind now. The same series of thoughts ran through our heads: Elko High School. Second place. The Marching Band of Indians. Defending state champions. We had just lost the Governor's Cup. Second place. Not first.
Tears formed in my eyes. I blinked, trying to force them away. One slipped down my cheek. I hastily wiped it away, and dried my eyes. Last year we'd won the Governor's Cup, and it had been one of the most rewarding moments in my career of music. Now that same reward had been pulled from our grasp, just barely out of reach. Two tenths of a point. That's all Green Valley had beaten us by.
I followed the rest of the band as we exited the stands and moved into our parade
formation.
"Keep your heads up! Be proud!" Mr. Lovell yelled as we began marching back to the buses.
Hearing his voice, and the pride in it, made me proud to be a member of the Elko High School Band of Indians, whether we had won or not. We hadn't come in last, and I knew for a fact we had done our best show of the season that day. I held my head high, taking care to make each step, each turn, each mark-time perfect.
After we reached the busses, Mr. Lovell gathered us around the instrument truck.
"We may have come in second, but over all, we won. Two bands, Green Valley and McQueen spent more than $1000 per student to prepare a show, drill and music, to beat you. They've been practicing since last year's state competition. We started when? August. And Green Valley only beat you by two tenths. And we showed pride in every step of the show today. We did our very best. Hold your heads up and get dressed."
We headed onto the buses, some of us crying, but all of us knowing we really had won in the end.
***Memory from the Year 2000***
The wind blew harshly as we stood in the stands, waiting for the announcer to finish awarding the medium-band division awards and move to the large-band division awards. I watched as others bands celebrated their victories or mourned their defeats.
"And in the large-band division," the announcer began.
"Band! Aten! Hut!" Eric, the drum major, barked in a low voice.
"ONE!" we replied, equally deep. We stood up straight, arms at our sides, faces
expressionless, at attention.
We listened as McQueen High School won the award for the best drum line, the best drum major, and the best winds. We watched as Green Valley High School, Las Vegas, won best flag corps. A brief look of sadness crossed most of Elko's band members' faces as we accepted that not any one thing in our show was the "best".
"In third place," the announcer started, and everyone silenced, "Robert McQueen High School!"
Janet grabbed my hand. As we stood there next to each other, hands squeezing tightly in anticipation, we both knew what the other felt: Even after winning three out of the four caption awards, McQueen had come in last.
"Second place goes to . . . Elko High School!"
Janet and I dropped hands. The realization hit us. Neither of us noticed the blistering wind now. The same series of thoughts ran through our heads: Elko High School. Second place. The Marching Band of Indians. Defending state champions. We had just lost the Governor's Cup. Second place. Not first.
Tears formed in my eyes. I blinked, trying to force them away. One slipped down my cheek. I hastily wiped it away, and dried my eyes. Last year we'd won the Governor's Cup, and it had been one of the most rewarding moments in my career of music. Now that same reward had been pulled from our grasp, just barely out of reach. Two tenths of a point. That's all Green Valley had beaten us by.
I followed the rest of the band as we exited the stands and moved into our parade
formation.
"Keep your heads up! Be proud!" Mr. Lovell yelled as we began marching back to the buses.
Hearing his voice, and the pride in it, made me proud to be a member of the Elko High School Band of Indians, whether we had won or not. We hadn't come in last, and I knew for a fact we had done our best show of the season that day. I held my head high, taking care to make each step, each turn, each mark-time perfect.
After we reached the busses, Mr. Lovell gathered us around the instrument truck.
"We may have come in second, but over all, we won. Two bands, Green Valley and McQueen spent more than $1000 per student to prepare a show, drill and music, to beat you. They've been practicing since last year's state competition. We started when? August. And Green Valley only beat you by two tenths. And we showed pride in every step of the show today. We did our very best. Hold your heads up and get dressed."
We headed onto the buses, some of us crying, but all of us knowing we really had won in the end.