Color guard provides lifetime of memories

Published 11:34 am Friday, February 29, 2008

I owe some of my best memories and a few of the best friends I will ever have to my participation in a high school extra-curricular activity that can be described as a “sport of the arts.”

This “sport” is color guard and winter guard. For people not familiar with these terms, color guard is the name of the performers during a marching band show that use flags, sabers and rifles to bring life to the music. Winter guard, while very similar, does not involve band members and is held indoors during the winter season.

When my sister and I first joined the winter guard team our freshman year in high school, we hardly knew the rest of the girls on the team. That did not last long. Unlike color guard, which has about 30 or more members, winter guard is a much smaller group, with about half the people. It was not long until we were all inseparable and little did I know then that several of those girls would be life-long friends.

After high school, my sister and I decided to audition to become color guard members of a drum corps, which can best be described as a “really, really big marching band.”

In the summer of 2000, we flew back to Boston to join the Boston Crusaders Drum &Bugle Corps, which was one of about 15 Division I drum corps in the United States. When we arrived, we did not know anyone, but thankfully had each other.

Along with the other 200 members of the team, I practiced from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. every single day in the hot sun of the East Coast, with only short breaks for meals. I was pushed to the point of exhaustion literally every single day by instructors that were intent on placing in the top of our division.

I learned to appreciate the little things in life, and especially the mere moments of rest I was allotted. Because the team traveled to a new destination almost daily, just about every night was spent sleeping sitting-up on a bus. On a rare occasion, I had the comfort of sleeping for a few hours on a hard gym floor.

It is now funny to remember how much I looked forward to laundry day that summer — something that has ceased to happen since. Laundry day on drum corps was better than Christmas. Not only did I get somewhat clean clothes (for they often looked dirtier after being washed), while my clothes were being washed, I was able to have fun.

If there was a fast food restaurant nearby or even a gas station, my sister and I were able to buy food that our cooks, who were volunteer parents, did not buy in bulk. Pay phones were also a hot commodity, and team members rushed to call home and reassure their parents they were still alive. There was also time to sit down and relax— far more than the usual minute we were allotted out on the field.

I learned to adapt to a different way of life that summer, and have never eaten so much in my entire life. I ate four meals a day, one of my favorites being two sandwiches, a bowl of soup, a salad and five cookies. And almost every meal culminated with a peanut butter sandwich.

My mother still reminds me about the time my sister and I called home one night after practice, which was when the team was served its fourth meal of the day. She asked us what we were eating and we said “lasagna, french fries and bowls of strawberries with whipped cream.” Although this may sound like a big meal, it was merely a light snack before bed.

Finally, the day arrived that we had practiced for all summer. We had competitions several times a week throughout the summer, but there was really only one competition that meant anything — Drum Corps International (DCI). That competition was the culmination of everything we strived for that summer, every second of practice and all the sleep and relaxation we chose to forfeit.

I do not remember all the little details of the competition, but I do remember feeling proud of what the team accomplished and whatever small part I played in the outcome. The Boston Crusaders Drum and Bugle Corps was awarded fifth place and our show was even televised.

Looking back, I can honestly say that even though it was the most excruciating summer in my entire life, the memories are worth it.

Brooke Fisher covers Lynnwood/Mountlake Terrace for the Enterprise Newspapers. Questions and comments may be sent by e-mail to entsports@ heraldnet.com, by fax to 425-774-8622 or by mail to Sports editor, The Enterprise, 4303 198th St. SW., Lynnwood, WA 98036.