November 1982

Halftime Heroes

(Page 4 of 4)

BEST ALWAYS-THE-BRIDESMAID BAND

Monahans High School, Monahans. Rookie director Alfred “Buzzy” Green on the hot spot in this marching band hotbed. Took over from revered 22-year veteran Dan Gibbs, the man who put Monahans’ music on the map—fifteen consecutive Sweepstakes awards and two years as the Texas Music Educators Association Honor Band, the equivalent of finishing number one in the polls. Gibbs best known for recruiting (hung up his baton with 274 of school’s 740 students in the band) and scheduling coups (once arranged for a halftime appearance at the Dallas Cowboys’ first game in Texas Stadium). Left Green a full cupboard: the band lost only 65 seniors from the squad that was named outstanding band in its class at the Opryland Music Festival. Substantial budget—$50,000—also gives him plenty to work with. Scouting report: Relies heavily on “Theme From Patton” (almost a second fight song for the school) and “Hawaii Five-O.” Prospects: With its experienced lineup, should be able to compete with any band in the state, even the big-city boys.

BEST BAND EVER

Crockett High School, Austin, 1980. Heartwarming story that fits all the clichés: character in the face of adversity, practice makes perfect, triumph against all odds, and spoils for the victor. Began in despair, with Crockett’s band decimated by crosstown busing—only 96 wind players left, less than half the original number. But band director Paula Crider, the first woman to direct a Class AAAAA marching band, refused to give up. Brought in Randy Bass from the UT band to develop arrangements that turned compact size into an advantage (clear, crisp playing and distinct contrast between soft and loud passages); imposed an exercise regimen to improve marching prowess; preached confidence against bigger opposition—all on a budget of just $5,000. At state competition, up against bands three times its size, Crockett marched to championship score in just four plays. Opened with Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “In the Stone,” followed by “When the Devil Went Down in Georgia” and “Theme From Dallas”; closed with “Malagueña” and, as Crider recalls, “We blew ’em away.” Repeated that victory the following year. Afterward, Crider moved on the UT band department, where she now directs a dozen of her 1980 Crockett band in the UT’s Longhorn Band, the state’s toughest lineup to crack. Her legacy: the memory of a legendary band.

Band Life of Texas: A Field Guide

Be aware of the IDs of march.

TRUMPET: BLOWING HIS OWN HORN

The trumpeter is the closest a band member ever gets to being sexy. That’s because he’s the center of attention, which he loves. The trumpeter is the quarterback of the marching band (he carries the melody instead of the ball). He also performs a lot of solos, and it is up to him and his peers to blow the audience out of the stands. Trumpeters tend to be male. Band directors, when grooming sixth-graders for future trumpetership, look for full, wide mouths; as far as lips go, thin is out.

TUBA: TOUGH, NOT TUBBY

Band directors have been known to bribe students to play the tuba. It is not a very popular instrument in the band, no doubt because of the myth that is takes a fat kid to play such a fat instrument. Contrary to stereotype, the tuba player does not necessarily have to be hefty or male –just hardy; how else could he endure traipsing about the football field with a forty-pound albatross around his neck? Other band members respect the tuba player for his toughness but consider him something of a nerd. He has some consolation, though— he is indisputably the audience’s favorite.

FRENCH HORN: SERIOUSLY, FOLKS

The French horn requires a measure of dedication rarely found in the sixth-grader. It appeals to the scholarly, mature youngster who distinguishes himself by his willingness to practice overtime. By the time he’s a teenager, the French horn player is apt to play chess and wear horn-rimmed glasses. Post-school, he is most likely to succeed in the world of the big-city orchestra.

CLARINET: A FACE IN THE CROWD

The clarinet is the most undistinguished instrument in the band, the choice of future bank tellers and insurance underwriters. Clarinetists are sober young ladies in Peter Pan collars who serve as hall monitors and proudly wear their National Honor Society pins. The clarinet arouses little emotion in anyone, except possibly the orthodontist, who hates the thought of its aggravation of that all too common problem, buck teeth. In defense of the clarinet section, the largest of the sections, is a good indication of the quality of the whole band.

FLUTE: THIN AS A REED

According to band directors, the flute is the instrument most favored by girls. Flutists tend to be frail—size five or so—and easily buffeted about by sudden Texas gales, but they are quick-witted and hardworking as well. Despite their dutiful practicing, though, their silvery piping never rises above the noise of the brass. Woe to the would-be flutist with a cupid’s-bow mouth, for that lip configuration spells doom to high school band hopes.

SAXOPHONE: SOLITARY MAN

The saxophonist is a bohemian. He is on the fringe of band society, and he likes it that way. His only nods to conformity are good lips and lungs and a sturdy constitution. He’s the one who wears dark glasses every day and saunters into the classroom just as the bell rings. Given the reputation of jazz saxophonists, he has a lot to live up to, and to his credit, he has a true affection for this instrument. He saxman also has good looks, a tendency to show off, and a flair for music. He is, in short, cool.

PERCUSSION: BEATS ALL

The percussionist is a clown—there’s nothing in his mouth to keep him quiet—but then, exhibitionism is part of the job. Twenty years ago the percussion section of a band consisted of one shaggy-haired snare drummer; today the percussionist is a little bit punk personally and must be versatile musically. He switches off between drums, cymbals, xylophone, marimba, vibraphone, chimes, and bells. His job requires stamina, since he has to lug heavy instruments onto the field and remain ramrod straight despite the pull of the harness. The major requirement for a percussionist, though, is rhythm. Without it, he would belong to the final category of high school band members…

THE GRASS-KILLER

The grass-killer has no musical talent whatsoever. He lives up to his name: he cannot play, but he loves to march and does so with all his might. Grounds-keepers can plot the path of the grass-killers in a high school band by following the bits of turf uprooted or snuffed out by their overeager progress. (In contrast, the lighter-footed members, termed “lizards” or “snails,” glide over the grass.) The grass-killer does shine, however, in pride of appearance: his shoes are the whitest of white, his posture the straightest of straight. Fortunately, he is in the minority of Texas high school band members.