A Freshman's Guide to Ruining Your Band

Chapter Four

Drill Sheets and the Curse of the Freshman

A/n: Hi it's me again! This is based on a true story-- my story to be exact! Don't you all recall a time whenever you were young and innocent and clueless, you know, whenever you were a freshman…..Well here's my story of my first year in marching band and I'm here to help you bring back memoirs of whenever you were once a froshy.

Well here's the fourth chapter. I really hope you enjoy it! I worked really hard on it. It's not exactly the best nor is it that long. I'm proud of myself! I did two chapters in one day! I'd also like to thank everybody who reviewed and double thank the lovely people who reviewed more than once. As for the people who haven't reviewed yet, well then review now! And if you have reviewed, it wouldn't hurt to review again. I'll love you all forever more!

We never really got the chance to unpack.

As soon as we started to take everything out, one of the chaperones knocked at the door, poked her head in, and said, "Roeder said to be at the field in five minutes without your instruments. If you show up late, you get the lovely chance to run laps. Now, unless you like to run or need to lose weight, I suggest you get out to the field. Oh, and don't forget your water bottles. You'll be needing them-- it's like 90 degrees outside."

And she finally walked out to inform the girls in the room next door to us. All four of us groaned in protest, but we just grabbed our water bottles and left anyhow.

Well, at least they did. I couldn't find my water bottle anywhere. I sat and searched for a few minutes and then I finally gave up.

I ran out of the now-empty building and sprinted across the street to the football field. By the time I got there, I was way out of breath and he had already started.

He saw me running to my section and then said on his speakerphone thinggie, "you're late. Turn around and take a lap."

I sighed and turned around to run some more, even though I felt like I was about to collapse under the heat, pressure, lack of water, and just from running a bunch already.

After what seemed like forever, I finally finished the lap and got in line with the clarinet section.

TJ walked up to me, who was bent over wheezing, and handed me a small piece of paper. On the paper had my name written on it, my "number" and what seemed like a whole bunch of nonsense.

"Hey TJ," I whispered, "Whatever this is, they messed it up. There's like a billion typo's on here."

TJ let out a chuckle, shook his head and said, "freshman."

For some reason, I've been hearing that word a lot. Too much actually. It bothers me. They say it like it's a bad thing.

Then he replied to my comment: "There isn't a single typo on here. If you were here on time then you would've heard Roeder explain to you that these non-typo pieces of papers are called drill sheets, or also known as coordinate sheets."

"Drill sheets? What are they? Is that something to punish people who are late? It wasn't my fault I was late-- I mean it was, but I don't deserve this! I was trying to find my water bottle! I'm just a freshman!" I wailed frantically, panicking.

TJ couldn't breathe, he was laughing so hard. Soon, he fell onto the ground, guffawing so loudly people were staring and whispering about "a mad clarinetist."

"Excuse me, TJ, could you please share with us what is hilariously funny?" Roeder's voice rang over the field as he spoke into the microphone thing.

"Nothing…..just freshman!" he said, still laughing hilariously. Grr.. that word again!

Roeder then gave us his all-too-famous death glare and the clarinet section leader quieted down a little bit, letting out a chuckle every now and then.

After somebody finally explained the purpose of drill sheets, I was still one clueless little freshman. Knowing what drill sheets were was one thing; I still had yet to figure out how to use them, however. If I were the only clueless person out there, I'd be pretty embarrassed. Just about all of the freshmen were as clueless as I, but I was still embarrassed.

Freshman or not, I still always like to try to be better than the rest. I know it sounds kind of conceited, but believe me, I'm not; I just try to push myself past the limit trying to be better than everybody else.

Heh. I said I try to. I usually never do. I have little patience and tend to want to give up when all doesn't hail to me.

We had the little pieces of plastic in about seven different colors that we called our chip markers. We put the chips down to mark our spots.

On every single set, I had to get help. At first I tried to do things myself but then I would somehow find myself ending up on the other side of the field-- where I definitely wasn't supposed to be at.

I had this one senior piccolo player eventually help me out for the rest of the time. I guess the people who actually understood it got tired of standing in their spots waiting for everybody else to figure things out.

Then once all of the markers were set down for the first seven sets, we started from set one and went from set-to-set. I had a problem though: somehow (I don't know how…must have to do with that 'freshman' word again) I never made it my spot in time.

By the time we were finished with the given counts, I was either way far away from the chip or I had passed it up a long time ago. A lot of the times, I completely forgot where my chip marker was and ended up on somebody else's marked spot.

I was frequently being run over.

I frequently ran people over. At least I was nice enough apologize, however.

Sometimes I just didn't have enough time to get there or I too much time leftover and then I would pass my spot up.

Then we had to listen to a lecture from Roeder telling us about how to take the right size and amount) of steps and then we practiced for a while.

One thing that I noticed and thought frequently was: How in the world am I supposed to remember exactly how to march properly, remember where I'm supposed to go, measure my footsteps and to count and to remember these counts? And that's not all, or so I was told.

Remember that complicated music Kim and I were like so scared of? Well we were going to have to not only play it perfect, but to memorize it also. And do all of that other stuff and still manage to play the music beautifully with dynamics and style.

Did he think we were super-human or something? Most of us couldn't even walk and chew bubble gum at the same time. It was impossible, I had said!

Now it's so possible I could do it in my sleep.

Finally we got to take a break. When we would come back we would go eat lunch.

He dismissed us and we ran inside.

I was so thirsty. Fortunately, the line at the water-fountain wasn't that long. I figures that it would be, but they all were smart; they remembered their water bottles.

As soon as I got a taste of that disgusting tap water, I went to my room where I found Nicole, Savannah and Kim already unpacking their belongings.

When I went in there, they informed me that they were going to divide up the wall shelves into four quarters. I went to the unfinished packing and restarted the task.

I dumped everything onto my bed and put the suitcase in my largest cubbyhole. I refolded all of my clothes and set them in another. I put my hair-dryer, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, and my make-up in one of the four drawers below the sink.

I closed the now-full drawer and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I shrieked with disgust.

The other three girls looked up from what they were doing.

"What's the matter?" Kim asked me.

"My make-up smeared from sweating outside today!" I whined. "Why didn't anybody ever tell me? Were you all to busy laughing at me to tell me I looked like a black-eyed pea?!"

"No," Nicole answered, "we were too busy working out on the field, trying to figure everything out. I doubt anybody even noticed. You're not even supposed to be wearing make-up to start off with."

"No, we can wear make-up. They just tell us it's better not to in case something like…this…happens…" I said slowly.

The other three just shrugged and went back to what they were doing before I had distracted them.

I cleaned the smeared make-up and glitter and resumed unpacking. I set my clarinet on the highest shelf and put my towels on a different one, all folded nicely.

Then I realized I had forgot something: My blankets. I only had my pillow and a fairly small 'couch' blanket that I had brought on the bus with me. I forgot the comforter and sheets at home just like the water bottle.

What else important item did I forget?

That would mean either I would have to use the blanket as a sheet and lay on the blanket and freeze or use the blanket and lay on the nasty moth-eaten mattress. It was too small to fold it over in half and do both.

I'd rather freeze.

I heard a few people's chatter as they headed down to the cafeteria to eat lunch so I decided to join in. I walked out into the hall and saw that Marca and Erica were standing at their door (it was across the hall from us) about to leave for lunch. I walked up to them and greeted them.

After they were ready to go I left with them to go eat lunch.

Man, was I hungry.

Endnote: So, did you like it? Well whether you did our not, please please please review! I'll love yew forever more, I promise! Keep a lookout for future chapters also. More band experiences that you could probably relate to!

Love ya lots!

--Mae-Lynn Moodle, KlarinetKween