A/N: Marching band is over for me. I'm a senior and the college I want to go to doesn't have a marching band. It's my last year. This is a little one-shot based on our pre-performance ritual... a high five and how much they really mean to us. Please review. Thanks. Love, Lawabidingchild.
The Magic of the High Five
We are standing outside before a competition. Everyone seems so uneasy. I'm jumping around for two reasons: it's cold out and I'm just plain excited. Band... band... band... band.
It's almost time for our portion of the competition to begin. Where's our director? I ask myself. Where's Papa? I keep saying Papa, but it's true. He always wishes us good luck before a show and encourages us as though he is our father.
I'm starting to feel a little nervous. I can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the crown of my head. I wonder if he forgot. I can never start a show without my pre-performance high five.
Tap! Tap! Roll tap!
Everyone starts to put their feet together.
Tap! Tap! Roll tap!
Everyone starts to mark-time.
Tap! Tap! Roll tap!
Everyone moves forward.
Tap! Tap! Roll tap!
"Good luck, good luck," I hear being whispered ahead of me. Sure enough, there he is standing with his arms spread out. It's a high five, our pre-performance ritual. I guess we were so late getting to the field that there was not enough time to do it before hand.
Tap! Tap! Roll tap!
"Good luck," I hear him say as our hands make contact. Something changed. The sweating began to lessen. I began to feel more confident. I stood straighter (and laughed as a trumpet player hit a pole on the way to the field, as did everyone else who saw), and my face became determined. I could (and did) march and play well.
I guess it was the magic of the high five.