Under the ‘P’

The Appalachian State University Marching Mountaineers are dubbed “North Carolina’s Band of Distinction.” They are 300 strong, and they preside at Mountaineer football games with enthusiasm, focus, determination, precision, and musical integrity.

One day in 2023, director Jason Gardner stopped me in the hallway and asked if I’d like to serve as “The Voice,” following the retirement of Jay Jackson. Once I actually found my voice in that moment and picked my jaw up off the floor, I managed to say something like, “Yes, yes! When do we start?” The second thing I said was, “But I’m not saying Roll 'neers.” [He and I are of one mind on that silly little phrase that won’t go away.]

My job is to announce for the Band when they are on the field. Show tunes, context, generate excitement, etc. [I do NOT announce the games, heaven forbid.] So on home game days I arrive at 7:00 am to get good parking. I’m in my khakis and black Band polo and my black Band ballcap. I join the Band in Kidd Brewer stadium on the ASU campus around 8:30, and we rehearse. I get to hang out in the uppermost areas of the home side press boxes, where I enjoy the grandest view in town. I sit directly under the ‘P’ in ‘Complex’ in this photo:

 

Then we walk downtown for some lunch. I hit a few tailgate parties and enjoy the gathering crowds. Then I go change into the official black suit, white shirt, gold tie, Appalachian cufflinks, black ballcap, flashy oversized gold pocket handkerchief, and stadium credentials. We do a lawn concert for any fans who wish to gather, while I roam among the people and make announcements in a wireless mic. Following the lawn concert, we line up and commence our grand Episcopal procession into the stadium to the cadences of the percussion battery, and we are greeted by the roar of gathered students and fans trickling in. I start roaming the stadium and greeting folks in the name of the Band. I announce the pre-game show and then roam the stadium during the first half of the game, then announce the halftime show, and I am done for the day. I usually hang around, though, and roam some more and make sure the Band sees my face and the enthusiasm on it for them!

I love game day for the crowds and for the Band. I love working behind the scenes and making things happen, much like doing so at the organ for church. I love being involved in a marching band once again. I had not been involved in one since the football season of 1982, when I was the best last-chair third trumpet player the Statesville (N.C.) Greyhound Grenadier Marching Band ever had [by golly].

My favorite parts of game day:

- walking into the stadium for rehearsal and listening to the Band crank up for the day;
- hearing that first cheer from the audience at the lawn concert;
- stepping off for the parade into the stadium;
- the diabolical sense of enjoyment I derive from the drunken fools who don’t get out of the band’s way during the parade. They are about to get, shall we say, 'maced' by up to four drum majors wielding maces;
- the percussion battery taking the field for pre-game, announcing to the world that it’s on, and the Band holding their position in the end zones and then taking the field and daring anyone not to listen;
- the first four chords of Simple Gifts after some fanfares;
- poking my head into the Band stands during the first half and getting a blast of second-down fanfaring;
- walking around during the first half of the game and visiting with friends. Walking through Miller Hill in the south end zone, which I call Hops and Pot Field, and hearing people say, “Hey, nice suit!” I always say, "Thank you – please watch the band at halftime;”
- seeing the entire production team up in the booth linger to watch the Band on the field. They could be taking a break during that time, but they are staying up there to watch and to comment on their favorite moments, just like I’m doing now. It’s a great day.

The Marching Mountaineers are collectively our teams’ biggest fan. And I am glad to have been given a place among them, considering my otherwise unrelated ‘field’ of expertise.