One Hundred Pairs of Eyes

Awareness. An awareness that all eyes from one hundred yards of green grass are focused on a certain point in space is what drives through my thoughts as I stand poised. These eyes disregard the peripheral chatter of spectators, the cold wind whistling in the night air around them, and the harshness of the white lights over the field. They focus only on this one spot before my hands and, to begin their show, they wait for a simple motion, a mere flick of the wrist. As a tingling sensation arises in my fingertips, I lift my hands in preparation. One hundred pairs of eyes breathe in unison across the hundred yards, and my hands descend in a practiced pattern toward that one point in space. It is that point where the hundred pairs of eyes release their breath into their various instruments, where the music is created, and where the show begins.
This experience is one that I get to relive every Friday night while conducting the Plymouth High School marching band in its weekly half-time performance for the football fans. While I have performed as one of the pairs of eyes, as conductor and
Senior Drum major I feel a greater part of the show than I ever did before. I feel every note and every phrase of music from every instrument, and I pull even more music from those instruments. Their intensity is sparked from my intensity, and mine builds on theirs. The intensity is not only from the music; it comes from the eyes. It’s my eyes scanning the field, scouting for problems, and brokering confidence that command an intensity in response. This is the greatest feeling in the world. As my motions become larger and larger and my left hand pushes upward, I demand volume from the band while it crescendos toward its final notes. Building volume and drive, this music sends a tingling sensation from my fingertips through my wrists and pulsing through my body. My shoulders ache but keep driving the beat, and my emotions are keyed up. As the brass builds and the band