Some days come along that are so perfect you wonder whether they were really real. Today was like that for me. It couldn't have gone better, no way, no how. The weather was clear and gorgeous, the people I interacted with were interesting and charming, the football game was exciting and the team was victorious, and I managed to pace myself so that when I left the band building after 10 pm, I had plenty of energy left to climb up the hill to where we were parked. Okay, I might have been careful to sit periodically in the stands to conserve energy, even when everyone around me was jumping around and playing songs. I even nodded off twice in the fourth quarter, until my daughter nudged me, insisting that teeth were better in mouths than broken out on the ground. I was still smiling and alert at the end of the game, even while I was explaining to the guy running security on the field that yes, I was with the alumni band, even though I wasn't holding a piccolo this year, and he should stop trying to steer me off of the field. Several times over the course of the last 30 hours, I wished I'd gone ahead and tried to play with the band, but I doubt I'd be as chipper at almost-midnight after the game if I'd done it. My mouth is blistered and sore anyway, even though the only instrument I touched was a baritone that I carried for a friend who was late to the game.
I went around and around, trying to decide how to dress for the game. I had purchased a specific sweater with the intention of wearing it today, to show off my new tattoo. But it was so sunny and warm most of the day, I nearly changed my whole plan. I ended up wearing it, tying a scarf to my tiny purse for later, and abandoning the hoodie I'd taken as a backup in the car when we first arrived. It was the right call. I roasted just a little while the band rehearsed in the early afternoon and on the parade over to the stadium. I was comfortable through the first half. I cooled off a little while the band was on the field at halftime. I didn't even feel the slightest chill until late in the fourth quarter when I sat more than I stood. I remember some of the first games we started going back for, nine or ten years ago, when I was wearing heavy coats and bringing blankets into the stadium. Is this year just that much warmer than a decade ago? We haven't had that sort of weather yet in Colorado, not once this fall. Surely it will come sooner or later.
Several of us old farts in the band keep telling the freshmen not to take this winning season for granted. We went through a ten year drought of "rebuilding years" while we rotated through coaches and struggled for any moral victories we could to comfort us through humiliating losses. They started consoling themselves that "at least the band team won," when the athletes they were there to support couldn't do it. Now here the chatter has begun about bowl games and maybe keep early December available in their schedules, to attend the PAC 12 championship. We are still a long way from seeing that dream come true for these kids, but for the first time in a decade, the dream has legs. This year's band gets to perform in front of sold-out stadiums full of happy, enthusiastic fans. I remember what that felt like from my heyday in the late 80s. It's thrilling to be a part of all that energy. That's why we Silver Buffs come back each year. And when our grown up bodies can support the energy expenditures required to make it from check-in to singing the alma mater late at night, it makes us feel young again. It's addictive. And that keeps us coming back for more.
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