Friday night lights. Concessions. Spirit. Football. The scene has become all too familiar to me. Few people have the opportunity to stand on that football field, under the aforementioned blaring lights, and bask in the glory of hundreds of onlookers; our peers, friends and parents. There’s just something about the turf-covered, glorified stage words simply cannot describe. Everyone always shows interest in the players’ point of view, but no one ever sees the side of the entertainers.

Near the end of the second quarter, we make our way to the field and prepare for our performance. With our minds set, our shoes filled with turf and our focus centered, we take the field and perform with the drill team, which comes as a relief because we get to play mainstream music as opposed to the pieces we are always practicing. Once the the final dance concludes, we move to our opening “set” or positions on the field. Out of all the halftime festivities, this moment, filled with silence and preparation, is by far the most nervewracking. Eyes search the stands and hearts begin pacing quicker and quicker as we are about to play for our biggest critics: our peers. When our final movement ends, our mouths open, gasping for air, as we prepare for the fight song, a tune, which until this year didn’t have much meaning.

As a senior band member, I’ve stood on this stage plenty of times. However, the spontaneous comradery that spurred between the band and the football team made this year much different than the past three. Maybe it was the winning season, or maybe better leadership. Either way, I loved it. I had a smile plastered to my face every week when I heard, “Show them up, band” or “Kill it, guys.” And who could forget when some of the football captains traveled to support us at Pennington Field for our UIL Area competition? I’ve never experienced anything like it since coming into high school. Knowing the football team supported us made our abrupt season-ending fiasco at Area competition easier to handle, because we didn’t advance to State as we expected.

In my four years at Legacy, I’ve attended 43 football games, a number most people can’t match. I’ve witnessed earth-shattering losses such as the 9-63 rout by LD Bell my sophomore year, to the 44-41 thrilling win against Seguin my senior year. Yet, one out of the 43 was more difficult to handle than the others. When reality settled in that the season was over, as the seconds dwindled down in AT&T Stadium against Highland Park, I began to wonder why this one in particular affected me so much. Why did it take me until my 43 high school football game to shed a tear? I’d witnessed 26 losses, so why was this one so heart-breaking?

It was the quick, sudden ending. In the past three years, we knew the season would ultimately end after the tenth game, but this year any week could’ve been our last. Football season ended as quickly as our marching season. So, why? Why do we participate in clubs and organizations whose demise is almost always inevitable? We strive to set records, win awards, set standards and create our own legacy. We want to leave our mark and make the future students yearn to be like us. The Class of 2009 is a prime example. Not only did the band place seventh at State that year, but Legacy witnessed its first football playoff berth in school history. While the band’s success this year didn’t match the mark set by 2009, the football team’s did. The fact that we were watching school history in the making is what made this year’s season so enthralling.

I started this blog with the intention of explaining how a band member thinks, but I ultimately came to the conclusion that we are just like the football team, drill team, etc. We simply strive to surpass the standards set by our predecessors and create new records for future students to break. The class of 2014 started the year off tremendously and has set the bar quite high. It’s up to the future of Legacy to pick up where we left off, exceed our success and begin creating a rich history for Bronco Nation.