The marching band spirit

Distant drum beats and trumpet blares can be heard on the football field amidst the yells of practicing sports teams. It is 3:10 p.m. on Oct. 14 and the marching band is slowly congregating on the freshly painted football field—instruments in hand, smiles on their faces and ready to play.

The marching band had been a large part of old Blair's history, but when the school moved to its current location in 1999, the marching band became a lost tradition. It wasn't until 2001 that former band director Kurt Lucas decided to resurrect the marching band.

Now, after its comeback, the marching band is bringing more entertainment, pep and enthusiasm to football games with coordinated drills and lively songs. Despite the marching band's unique role in school spirit, it often goes unnoticed by students and spectators, their "dorky" reputation preceding them. But behind the ancient uniforms and shiny instruments, there is more than just a collection of stereotypical band geeks—rather, it's a tight-knit group of musicians who only want to be heard and have fun.

To the ready

"Can you hear me now?" senior and drum major Gaston Jeanty yells into a megaphone. The group of restless students before him answer with a resounding "yes" as they put their instruments down and prepare for a round of stretching before the game.

"I want to run laps so badly," says Jeanty with a slight pause as the group groans in disapproval. "But I don't want to be a dictator, so sit down if you don't want to run laps." Only eight of the 43 members are left standing.

A skeptical Jeanty proceeds to ask the remaining people why.

"Because I'm bored," yells one Blazer.

"I ain't afraid!" says another.

Jeanty thinks it over, then hunches his shoulders, laughs and moves on—there will be no running laps today.

As drum major, Jeanty serves as director of the group, setting an example for members and guiding them through drills. According to senior and lead percussionist Greg Jukes, Jeanty's role is to provide the team with energy and leadership. "[Jeanty] is more of a spiritual leader. He commands our respect," says Jukes.

"A marching band kind of guy"

As the familiar notes of the anthem float over the empty football stadium, band director Dustin Doyle sits in the back of the bleachers watching and listening intently. Walkie-talkie in hand, Doyle maintains constant communication with Jeanty throughout the practice, giving him advice, feedback and direction.

Although in only his second year as sponsor of marching band, Doyle has managed to transform marching band from a laid-back extracurricular activity into a demanding commitment. Having been a member of his high school and college marching bands, Doyle brings enthusiasm to the group and provides structure and purpose. "He's just a marching band kind of guy," says Jukes.

The team now practices twice a week from 3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. and must attend all home varsity football games—an impressive commitment for an activity that used to only meet once a week for a couple of hours. "It's been an uphill battle trying to convince them that they need to be [at practice]," says Doyle. But the extra practice, Doyle insists, will pay off in the future. "We're only touching the tip of what this band can do."

Drum roll, please

By a quarter to six, the band is clad in their tattered red and white uniforms that were, no doubt, purchased several presidents ago.

"Ya'll ready to have some fun?" Jeanty asks as the team makes their final preparations before the game begins. The band answers with a quiet "yeah," pushing Jeanty to ask his question once again. This time they give a booming answer, and Jeanty is satisfied.

Traditionally before each game, the band marches and plays a percussion cadence, a recurring rhythm, around the entire school, down University Boulevard and into the stadium. But before the walk begins, Doyle offers some important advice to the band. "The drum line is going to get us through the day, even if they're wrong," he says. "Drum line, it's your job to get it right!"

The drum line nods in agreement, feeling the pressure on their shoulders as they wait for the signal to begin. Jukes describes the drum line's tight-knit relationship. "We're a family, and they're my kids. I take care of them, and I teach them," he explains.

Senior Gabe Osborne, a trombone-playing marcher for the past four years, offers his biased take on the marching band family. "The trombones are the older brothers; they're better than everyone else. The trumpets are like the annoying brother that always tries to compete with you. The drum line is the crazy cousin you try to ignore but like to hang out with. And the others are just there," he says jokingly.

"We are the Blazers"

By 7:00 p.m., the bleachers are cold, Blair's football team is down by 18 points and the crowd is rapidly losing their pep. But upon the drop of Jeanty's hand, the marching band teams up with the cheerleaders to rally the crowd with Blair's fight song. By the end of the number, they have the crowd cheering, "Go, Blazers, Fight!" in unison.

Despite their relatively small size and laid-back demeanor, their role in football games and other school events is essential. "We are the Blazers. Win or lose, we come here to support the team," says freshman saxophonist Christoff Vissher.

Jukes strongly agrees; he feels that the marching band more than makes up for the lack of school spirit at Blair. "We show the other teams we have support and pride for our [school]," he says. "Most Blazers don't give a rolling donut if anything happens at [Blair]."

The whistle blows in the background, and the players begin to file off the field for the halftime show. Across the stadium, the band arranges itself in perfect formation, and the musicians all take a deep breath.

"Show time," whispers Doyle from the stands.

The drum line sets the pace, and the band begins marching in rhythm. An enthusiastic crowd cheers as they play Estancia while performing the intricately choreographed drill. All the hours spent practicing have paid off, as the band executes a near-flawless show.

"We're all band geeks"

After the performance, the band casually relaxes on the stands, only stopping their chatter to play short bits of Blair's fight song. Meanwhile, freshman Tin-Tin Nguyen breaks out his camera phone, and another Blazer pretends to shoot people with his silver flute.

Junior Krista Lee, a flutist, looks up at the rest of the band as she reflects on her marching band experience over the past three years. "I love the way we can all be band geeks, and nobody cares because we're all band geeks," she explains.

But Vissher doesn't believe in "marching band nerds." "We are very cool people," he insists.

"We don't care what people think of us," Osborne says indifferently. "We do it for fun; we do it for ourselves." But, he adds, a little more school support couldn't hurt.

Like Osborne, Doyle emphasizes that no one is forced to be part of the marching band. "People are here because they want to be here. They want to be better, and they're improving," he says.

As the band exits the stadium after the game, they march back around Blair, 43 pairs of feet tapping the pavement in unison to the constant beat of the drums. "Let the drum line take us back," says Doyle. "Let them take us home."