37. Eagles
It was the annual Marching Band Trip. It was also the last competition. The orange and brown leaves blew through the wind as a bitter cold threatened to set in as the sun was beginning to sink along the horizon.
The Eagles stood in arcs around the drum major outside of the Iron Gate that guarded the field. The band stood at parade rest, chins tucked in, instruments laid uniformly at their feet, gloved hands clasped behind their back.
The drum major's eyes fell quickly skimming across the band. After a moment and a deliberate breath "Band, Atten-Hut!"
"Eagles!" They snapped.
The drum major nearly sniffled a moment, taken aback by how perfect the band looked. Every single member standing tall, stiff, and proud.
"Alright, relax." The major called. "This is our last competition this year. This means this is our last chance to get this right. This is our last chance to excel. This is our last chance to blow the audience away."
"We want a baby-throwing moment?" One trombone player questioned. The band giggled quietly and quickly settled down.
"Yes," the drum major stifled a laugh. "Exactly."
After a moment.
"This is the last time we will ever perform this show. And seniors, this is the last time you'll ever bear this uniform. For some of you seniors, this will be the last time you will ever march on a field. But for others, this is only a beginning. Seniors, I wish you all the luck in the world as many of you move forward in your lives to pursue music careers. And I wish luck to those of you who will continue to march, and for those who do continue to march, I'm sure you feel more pain than even the others.
Underclassmen; your job today is to make this the best show you can for the seniors. This is your task.
Underclassmen, seniors will tell you today more than they would on any other day the truth. Take pride in your band. Take pride in our uniform. Take pride in yourselves. The seniors will never march as an Eagle again after today. You will. Carry on the name as they left it.
Seniors, this has been a wonderful four years. Underclassmen, we'll be sad to leave you. We love this band. I love this band, as I love all of you. As I love the grass on the field. As all of you love all your instruments in your own way.
Eagles, enjoy today. Today is our day. This is our competition, and for the next seven and a half minutes, we own the field. Own it Eagles. You were given wings to fly. Use them today. Use them to soar above the competition.
As we enter that field today, I want you all to give that extra encouragement to your pair as we march-in in twos. I want you all to feel the pride of the Eagle way pouring through your veins. Soar today Eagles, all of you. It's your time to fly."