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Festivus 2025 – Commence the Airing of Grievances

Happy Festivus! I’ve previously confessed to being a big Seinfeld fan. If you haven’t seen the episode, you’re looking for Season 9, episode 10, available on Netflix. (Fun fact: this episode includes the great Bryan Cranston and Tracy Letts.) Some may recall that I even created a variant on the holiday called Testivus in my previous role coordinating campus assessment, as described in a previous post. And any proper Seinfeld aficionado will tell you Festivus hasn’t really begun without The Airing of Grievances. I’ve got a lot of problems with you people, and now you’re gonna hear about it!

College Football: I’ll begin with what is perhaps a controversial take, in keeping with the tradition of Festivus: College football in 2025 is stupid. Full disclosure – I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree from the University of Texas at Arlington, which cancelled their football program literally the year before I enrolled. I was drum major of UTA’s band during its initial years without football, and we didn’t miss the sport one bit, mainly because UTA football, despite producing some quality players who had productive NFL careers, was collectively mired in mediocrity for nearly two decades prior to its cancellation in 1985. So I will allow that my perspective is biased, and I completely understand when people who attend or have attended other schools tell me stories about how fun it is/was to attend football games on Saturdays. And I’ve observed video evidence of many cool traditions at a variety of schools. So despite my background and bias, I get that college football can be a very cool experience, as it should be. I wish it was so simple, and I congratulate schools like the University of North Texas, where it is, for the most part.

But as with many cool phenomena in this world, there’s a line that can be crossed, and when it is, the cool factor is ruined. College football, as an institution, has crossed that line, maybe even obliterated it. The primary impetus is money. The primary evidence of this is seen across the sport – NIL, the transfer portal, the College Football Playoff, the bowl system. None of those things are inherently bad. NIL is actually a positive idea in theory, allowing athletes a chance to earn money from their own skills instead of just reserving it for the schools, and NIL works across many sports. The transfer portal (also active in multiple sports) is also a good idea in theory, because the old rule where a transfer had to miss a season was kind of stupid. The College Football Playoff – another great idea in theory. The bowl system was hugely entertaining for years, although the aforementioned developments in the sport have all but killed them.

Honestly, money has corrupted college football for decades. It is no secret that boosters have dropped millions of dollars under-the-table in years past to entice recruits…all in the name of winning. Because a good football team helps your school?!? The rationale escapes me, particularly when the best schools in the USA aren’t football powerhouses. One wonders if those funds could better serve society by actually helping people, but either way, big spending in the name of school pride is nothing new. And it has rightfully led to scandals, although only SMU has ever experienced true justice for its dealings. What’s happened in recent years, though, is comical. Through well-intended measures ostensibly designed to improve the game, college football is headed toward a winner-take-all cliff. NIL and the transfer portal have expanded the financial resources needed just to field a team at all while simultaneously reducing the game to a literal root-for-the-laundry festival of one-and-done rental players. The Playoff, which was supposed to mirror how basketball champions are determined, I suppose, has just led to teams getting upset when they’re left out. They literally take their ball and go home, refusing to play in any bowls. Eventually the lack of entertaining matchups threatens to derail the bowls altogether. The game has essentially become a race to see who can spend the most, on head coaches and players. And those players are basically untouchable on a human level because of the money. The concept of the student-athlete has died. There are people out there who can say they literally attended classes with Earl Campbell or Joe Montana. Not anymore. College football has long been the proverbial minor league for the NFL, but now it carries NFL-level financial commitments and NFL-level boundaries. Literal teenagers are making pro-level money, given to them by loosely regulated groups – no franchises, no true governing body, no commissioner. No one actually looking out for the good and integrity of the game. And certainly no one pondering the consequences of handing that much money to a kid who just turned old enough to vote or perhaps to purchase alcohol.

In the meantime, college football fans have arguably become the worst part of the institution. They rush to defend every single action of their highly-paid players, no matter how indefensible. “Sure, he’s an a**hole, but he’s our a**hole” is not the argument you think it is. Nor is “everybody does it.” Shame has died. Fans expect nothing of their team’s players as people. They don’t care about what will happen to these guys after football at all. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that those players will only be around this season. Fans also desperately seek excuses for including their team in the playoff, or for their team refusing to play in a bowl. They don’t really love the game; they don’t even truly love their team. They care only about their team winning, not how, even if it’s to the detriment of the game. Even if it’s to the detriment of the school whose students pay fees to help underwrite the program. That kind of attitude will eventually, ultimately, lead to the demise of the sport. If college football truly is a fun, tradition-filled good time on a Saturday afternoon, then it’s time the fandom stop worrying so much about polls and committees, and just enjoy the experience. Support the team, win or lose, and be honest with yourselves about your team, its players, and where all of this should fit in your lives.

Obsession with Politics: Speaking of attitude ultimately leading to demise, next on my list of grievances is politics – specifically, obsession with politics. And granted, this topic could turn into a screed about a consummate narcissist who seeks to make everything about him, but I don’t want to talk about a**holes. Griping about a**holes is like complaining about bad weather – it’s (they’re) always going to be there, so the best response is honestly to just put on a coat, carry an umbrella, or otherwise take measures to cope with it (them) and get on with your life. And frankly, I don’t even want to talk about the media’s obsession with a specific a**hole, allowing him to dominate the news cycle with his narcissism and grift. Maybe another time.

No, I’m talking about someone you know…maybe someone you know well. Could be a relative. Could be a friend. This person is constantly obsessed with a political ideology, party, figure, or narrative, much like the worst college football fan is constantly obsessed with their team’s record or stats. Moreover, this person views literally everything in life through an imaginary litmus test born of that political obsession. They don’t want to watch that particular TV show because it has that actor who offended their political sensibilities 20 years ago. They won’t listen to that music because that singer said something mean about “their president” at some point. They won’t eat that food because some ingredient is primarily produced in some nation whose prime minister doesn’t like their favorite politician or share their political viewpoint. They announce to the world that they hereby refuse to visit this city or that state because they’ve elected a particular person or approved a particular policy. They view themselves as constantly under attack – because they’re Christian, because they’re not Christian, because they’re a Republican, because they’re a Democrat, because they work in [insert industry name here], because they’re part of some minority, because they’re a bald white overweight incel, because…, because…, because… And since they’re constantly under attack, they are constantly a victim of…something. And because they are constantly a victim, there’s always something dramatic to address, to discuss, to obsess over, centered solely on their politics. It is exhausting, much like it’s exhausting to hear a college football fan gripe about how the refs hate their team, or the committee hates their school, or how horrible the players from that other team are, and on and on.

And you know what ought to be exhausting? Living your life against a perpetual political backdrop. Pulling out your proverbial litmus test for EVERYTHING. Living life this way makes it impossible to enjoy anything, and for the people truly in your life, it makes it impossible for them to enjoy being around you. You can’t just watch TV or listen to music. You can’t even go to church, lest the priest or preacher say something that offends your political sensibilities. You can’t just have a conversation and be happy that a college student enjoys a class. No, you’ve got to wonder how the class is “indoctrinating” the student. You’ve got to wonder whether the singer supports “your guy.” You watch that movie and complain that the hero(es) were or were not from a particular demographic. You’ve got to assume that somehow this president or that congressman has somehow harmed your life this week, this month, this year. You’ve got to decide if this religious figure, or pop cultural personality, or even family member in front of you shows appropriate fealty to your political icon or ideology. Politics is your religion, and that’s just sad.

If you’re reading the last two paragraphs and nodding your head with someone’s face and demeanor in your head, a word of advice: Let them go. Cut ties. Walk away. Maybe you can’t do it immediately, cold-turkey-style. But you have to get away from it. I know I do, and I am. Life is too short to be forced into vicarious drama driven by someone else’s obsession with their own political fantasies as they offer fealty to people who care not one bit about them or to ideology that is counter to what they need or desire. Sometime I will write a post about the absurdity of politics, but the bottom line is that government is a means to an end, political ideology is mostly nonsense, and none of it should dominate your life.

Terrible Social Media: And speaking of “vicarious drama,” I’ve got news for you about your social media feed – it is every bit as terrible as you think it is, unless you’ve worked hard to prune it and cultivate the content you actually desire to see. Why is it so bad? Because social media, as opposed to traditional media, has basically no barrier to entry. In the golden age of traditional media – we’re talking the days of only 3-5 TV channels and robust terrestrial radio on both AM and FM – content was vetted. Granted, there was a particular profile to the powerbrokers vetting that content, but still. Someone actually took the time to say “This can go on TV/radio; this cannot.” Granted further, not all of the people and content that actually made it to air were high-quality, but the vast majority that got airtime was better than what didn’t. Easily.

The proliferation of cable TV loosened the restrictions on what aired, but there still were, and are, people who vet the content. Journalism has suffered severely from this development because 24-hour news on cable means that so-called “news outlets” are constantly looking to fill airtime, and they’ve resorted to less-than-stellar methods. Giants like Walter Cronkite, Frank Reynolds, and Barbara Walters have given way to hacks that used to be relegated to syndicated late-night shows like A Current Affair. That’s what typically happens when the pool expands. More teams in a league dilutes the talent a bit, so players who might not really deserve to see the field end up playing. Sometimes the talent pool improves or reveals untapped sources that are worthwhile. Sometimes content rises to the occasion – after all, cable networks gave us The Sopranos, The Wire, Breaking Bad, and Homeland. Streaming services have given us Ted Lasso, Stranger Things, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and Severance. All was not lost with the advent of cable, because someone was still attempting to filter out the proverbial wheat from the chaff.

What has social media content given us? Chaff, and lots of it. Reaction videos. Videos claiming to show “the greatest {fill-in-blank] of all time” featuring something that occurred last week. Guys trying to explain movies from years ago that everyone’s already seen and understand. (Seriously, who on this planet needed to see a YouTube video breaking down the “Lone Pine Mall” joke from Back to the Future? Is anyone watching this movie that clueless?) People desperately seeking attention as influencers, and frankly, hopeful that they can earn a spot in legitimate, vetted media by getting noticed on a social media platform. Usually, they’re pretenders. Wannabes. Or maybe they seek to emulate Mr. Beast by generating more extravagant stuff that is still every bit as banal – but hey, they’ve maximized their revenue using the algorithm, so who cares what it is as long as it gets attention? Eyeballs, eyeballs, eyeballs. Subscribers. Views. Clicks. Feeding a financial bottom line, regardless of quality. Welcome to the 21st century. Yes, you can find some entertaining content from the likes of The Holderness Family and certain others, and occasionally there is a proverbial diamond-in-the-rough that might develop into something bigger, but the content you’ll find on social media is, for the most part…exactly what you should expect in a free, unvetted, unregulated environment. All the more reason to get annoyed when YouTube throws an ad in the middle of a video that is as awful as you suspect it is.

And yet, WE are the problem, because the algorithm will continue to feed us stuff when we click on it and linger for more than a few seconds. Sadly, watching someone cook sh**ty spaghetti on her kitchen counter using several jars of Ragu, even if you only stayed there to wonder WTF was happening, will only lead you to receive more videos like this over time. You and me – WE have to show discipline, move away, avoid clicking. It actually takes some work to show such restraint, to build and curate a feed that delivers, if not fulfilling content, at least content that isn’t excretory. The algorithm will feed you what you consume, so it’s up to you to fight the urge to consume junk content and focus on things that are actually appealing.

And that really is the key: with just about all Festivus Grievances, it comes down to one person – the one in the mirror. As much fun as it is to quote the great Jerry Stiller, issues complaints about the world, and act cantankerous at this time of year, when there seems to be so much to do in so little time, the irony of Festivus is that, at its core, it really is a response to how much society has twisted the Christmas season. The sentiment of the holiday fits the mindset of Seinfeld, which sought out comedy in shallow, self-absorbed people who were generally oblivious to the consequences of their actions. Yet instead, three decades later it seems like some people actually celebrate this shallowness and look at Seinfeld characters as a blueprint for how to live their lives. Elaine Benes famously and hilariously asked, “Is it possible I’m not as attractive as I think I am?” It was a subtle and brilliant commentary on her character, one that is lost way too often on all of us in this day and age. People don’t perceive the irony because they aren’t honest with themselves. This Festivus, maybe we should look inward, air our grievances to the mirror, and figure out over the next eight days how we’re going to resolve them in the coming year. Happy Festivus to all!

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Is the Friday Night Lights experience Overrated?

Texas high school football is a unique obsession. I mentioned in a previous post that I did PA for a high school football game earlier this season, and I’ve also had the occasion to run the scoreboard for a local high school a couple of times, including this past Friday. It is also no secret that I have been a sports fan literally all of my life.

I remember my first high school football game: Arlington Lamar vs Irving MacArthur, Fall 1973 at UT-Arlington’s old Memorial Stadium. I sat on the home side with my siblings. I vaguely remember repeating most of what the PA announcer said to a random kid sitting near me (seeds firmly planted in me at a young age). It was the first of many. I would estimate that over the course of my life, I have attended around 300 high school football games – that includes games I attended with my older siblings and games I attended while in junior high. When I was in junior high, I even attended a few games with my older sister while she covered them for the local paper early in her journalism career. Then there were games when I was in marching band in high school, when my old high school was involved in the playoffs and I attended, and when I was a high school teacher. I was also at a few games with the UTA Marching Band, both as drum major and doing PA, when we were playing postgame exhibitions. Throw in all the games I announced over the course of roughly 14 years in a previous district, and the total has to be around 300. I used to love high school football fiercely, especially playoff games. Favorite high school football memories: LD Bell vs Trinity at Texas Stadium to conclude the 1983 regular season (in the pressbox with my sister, keeping stats) and DeSoto vs Cedar Hill at Newsom Stadium in December of 2006 (on the mic doing PA). Both of those games featured packed houses – Texas Stadium’s lower bowl was full in 1983, and Newsom Stadium overflowed in 2006. At that 2006 game, I got to call Von Miller’s (yes, the Super Bowl 50 MVP) name all afternoon because he was involved in so many tackles. Today, I think I still like the activity, but I’m not sure I love it anymore, and it’s not just because I’m old or otherwise burned out.

The question I pose is this: Is Texas high school football – “Friday Night Lights,” as people like to call it thanks to the brilliance of H.G. Bissinger – really that great of an experience? Or is it overrated? Maybe it’s vague and indecisive to say so, but my answer is officially “Yes And No.” There are some things about it that I still very much enjoy. There are other things that I personally find a beat-down of the highest order. And away we go…

The Good:

  • The Two-Sided Stadium. In college and the pros, the stadium is mostly filled with home fans, with a smattering of visiting fans scattered about or shoved into one section. (The main exception is Texas-OU at the Cotton Bowl, which is a fantastic atmosphere that basically proves my point.) High school has home on one side and visitor on the other, and the back-and-forth energy of that setting can be mesmerizing, especially as the weather gets colder and the games get bigger. Those specific games I mentioned earlier were really magical in part because of the two-sided stadium. It’s amazing to hear the roar on one side contrasting with the silence of the other, based on what’s happening on the field.
  • The Alma Maters (or if you prefer, School Songs). Before the game, it can be a pretty cool moment. Heck, I can still sing my own high school alma mater. It doesn’t make me cry or anything, but I do enjoy it. After the game – especially a close, hard-fought game, it’s often a poignant experience. One side is elated as they hear it, the other is disappointed. Again, this experience takes on more meaning later in the season. During the playoffs, some of these kids know it will be the last time they stand with their teammates for this moment, and there’s a lot of emotion. And that is the absolute best, because that connection between teammates matters more than the scoreboard at the end of literally any and every high school football game.
  • The Run-Throughs. I grew up seeing the paper signs the cheerleaders would spend all week making, and those were awesome. These days, team will have big reusable vinyl signs with velcro down the center, and many schools just have a giant inflatable tunnel and/or sculpture for the team. Those are also awesome, even when they look awkward. (You could ask me about “Deuce the Jaguar” sometime, but you might not want to read the full story in print on that one.) A good run-through, whether a sign or an inflatable, sets the tone for a high school game perfectly.
  • Fight Songs. THE. BEST. I don’t care whose fight song it is. I kind of like them all, and I absolutely love many of them. You simply cannot beat a good fight song. “But do they have to play the fight song so much?” YES. Yes, they do. Why would you even ask that? If the band is playing the fight song a lot, it usually means good things are happening on the field. But even if it doesn’t, who cares? Full Disclosure: Arlington High School was our bitter rival when I was in high school, but I absolutely love the AHS Fight Song, maybe even more than my high school’s. You cannot beat a good fight song, and it’s impossible to beat one into the ground by playing it too much. If you hate fight songs, I’m not sure we can be friends.
  • Drum Cadences. Another of The Best. Call Fight Songs 1A and Cadences 1B. College bands often play cadences in the stands and to march on and off the field, but there’s something unique about the high school drum cadence that’s played while action is taking place on the field. Add the dancing and other visual things the band does during the cadence, and it becomes a thing of beauty. Perhaps somewhere there’s an Arlington Lamar High School alum reading this who knows exactly what I’m talking about when I mention “The Guillotine” during “Mountain.” Literally, IYKYK. And if you don’t, you missed out. Some bands even bring the drumline down to the sidelines during the 3rd quarter so the cheerleaders and spirit group can jam out with them. Here, here. Rock on, man.
  • Spirit Songs. No, not the Fight Song, and not “Stand Tunes.” (We’ll talk Stand Tunes later on.) I’m talking about ultra-short songs that the band plays in the stands which are specifically designed to get the crowd and the team energized. “Go Big Blue.” (Or whatever color you prefer.) “Eat ‘Em Up.” (!!!) We used to have a straight, swing, and polka version of Eat ‘Em Up when I was in high school, and it was glorious. Some schools play the William Tell Overture. Duncanville High School traditionally opens every game with “The Planet Krypton” fanfare from John Williams’ score to the 1978 Superman, and it is amazing. Mansfield High’s band plays “Eye of the Tiger” at the kickoff of every game. I find Survivor’s original to be one of the worst songs of the 80s, but as a spirit song on a Friday night, it works. More Spirit Songs, please.
  • Friendly Visits by the Band and Drill Team. One of the best traditions at any high school football game happens when the home drum majors and drill team officers head to the visitors’ side during the second half, introduce themselves, and greet the visiting band/drill team. Then they escort the visiting drum majors/officers to the home side, where they introduce them to the home band/drill team. It’s always a lovely moment of camaraderie among performers across school boundaries.

The Bad:

  • Halftime. “Whaaat? Didn’t you recently have a post about how great marching bands are?” I did, indeed, recently post about how marching band is awesome. (and thanks for reading, if you thought that.) And it IS. And if you have a chance, you should attend a marching band contest, because it might blow your mind. But the football halftime itself is a beating, especially in the month of October, when every band tries to perform their entire contest show. The bottom line is that 28 minutes for a football halftime is way too long, any way you slice it. I recently saw a school play a 2-minute hype video for the drill team, then the drill team did their “march-on” routine, then they introduced every single officer and spirit girl and special girl and on and on, then they finally had the actual drill team performance. Then the band performed their full contest show. And then they did it all again for the other school! I’ve heard people insist that high school halftimes have taken 40 minutes or longer, and while I can assure you that’s not likely, it sure can feel that way. And yet, for the performers it nearly always feels rushed, especially when the teams emerge from the locker rooms and begin warming up while the show’s still happening. (Don’t get me started on that team in Idaho that ran out through the band’s performance.) That’s why some band directors will, when it’s serious contest season, have the band perform post-game, where they can focus strictly on their own competition show free of distractions and have more control of the performance environment. It’s a smart play, allowing the fans attending for football to focus on it, and the parents attending to watch the band to focus on it. While it makes for a late night for the band, the ability to dedicate the post-game environment solely to their own performance can be beneficial.
  • Homecoming. When you’re in school and are sweet on someone, homecoming is a lovely date night, even if you’re in the band and have to go home, shower, and change before you head out to eat dinner at 10:30pm or later. You’re in high school; enjoy it! But for just about everyone else (also some students, including my own children) “HoCo” (I despise that abbreviation, BTW) is a beating. Technically, “homecoming” is supposed to be when alumni “come home,”but it’s often unlikely any meaningful sampling of alumni actually shows up. Maybe a class celebrating a specific reunion. No, homecoming as it exists now is mainly little more than a celebration of the popular kids. Sure, some schools will occasionally crown a special needs student as king or queen, but statistically speaking, the same students who have been popular since, like, second grade are the ones who get to be part of the “court.” And we tell the world who their parents are, what their favorite memory is, where they’re headed next, yada yada yada. “And please welcome last year’s homecoming king and queen” (who you won’t remember) to crown this year’s. Please just jab a fork in my eye. I do have one favorite homecoming memory from my years doing PA: One school sent their own announcer to the booth for the ceremony. This guy made an error, saying “Your Homecoming Queen is…” before reading the boy’s name. Then he said “And your Homecoming Queen is…” and read the girl’s name. He didn’t even realize it, but all of us in the pressbox did. Two homecoming queens, well before that might even be considered a thing. The game staff joked about how progressive that was, but I still wonder if the Homecoming King’s parents heard the gaffe and got upset.
  • Stand Tunes. I did say we’d talk about this one later. I railed about this one slightly back in September. There’s nothing wrong with a decent arrangement of a song for the stands. But do they have to be all the same? Seriously – Rock and Roll, Part 2 (aka “The ‘Hey’ Song,” aka “The Only Song We Know”), Seven Nation Army, and Pretty Fly – remove them from the face of the earth, and half the bands in America would have nothing left to play. Does every band have to play these? Do something different. Give me some Bruno Mars, Chappell Roan, or even Taylor Swift. Heck, throw it back to Earth, Wind, & Fire or The Gap Band. Just stop playing the same stuff everybody else plays. Surely there are other good arrangements of other energizing songs. Or…break out a specific spirit song, like I mentioned earlier.
  • Disengaged and/or Nasty Fans. I realize that there are many fans in the stands who are A) parents of the players; B) parents of one of the performing students, like band, drill team, cheer, etc.; C) faculty and staff there to support their students; D) friends and family of someone involved in the game and surrounding activities; E) students standing (all game) in the student section because they want to support the team F) other actual fans of the team, whether community members, alumni, whatever. And as long as they support their team, bring it on. I humbly submit that these attendees are too often in the minority at your typical Friday football game. The majority are the types I cannot stand, including G) fans who are constantly yelling at the coaches, officials, or both; H) students and adults who talk trash to opposing players and/or coaches; I) students who attend the game not to watch but to be seen. Your proverbial mileage may vary, depending on the school. My observations have generally been that it varies based on how small-town or suburban the school is. The more small-town your school, the more engaged the fans. The more suburban the school, the more likely you are to see disengaged fans, especially students who are at the game purely as a social event, with no interest in what’s actually happening on the field. And nasty fans who think it’s acceptable to talk sh** to teenagers and/or underpaid coaches and officials need to go live under a bridge like the veritable trolls that they are.

If you’re keeping score (and since it’s about high school football, you probably should be), you may notice that I have 7 things listed under The Good and only 4 things listed under The Bad. But the word count is 862 for The Good and 1,038 for The Bad. So clearly, I like more things about Friday Night Lights than I dislike, but I have over 150 more words to say about what I dislike. And that, friends, is why my answer to the question, “Is Texas high school football…really that great of an experience?” is a clear “Yes And No.” The next time you attend a game, cheer for your team, try your best to soak in everything you enjoy about the experience, ignore what you don’t like, and fight your way through any disinterested or dysfunctional fans on your way home. Make sure the time you spend there is time well-spent.

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40 Years of “The Marching Band Without Football” – Part 1

Last week, I acknowledged that I am a band nerd, and a marching band nerd at that. I also mentioned that I have served as the P.A. Voice of the U.T.-Arlington Maverick Marching Band since 1998. It is fair to state that the UTA Band has shaped my life. I have close friends from UTA to this day, all from my involvement with the band. I was Drum Major there for 5 years (one of only 3 people who served as DM for 5 years), and that partially led to my career in education. I learned leadership skills there that have influenced me throughout my life. I was President of their Kappa Kappa Psi (national honorary band fraternity) chapter for a year and am also a Life Member of the chapter. I was President of the UTA Band Alumni Association for 4 years. I met my wife in the UTA Band. And my P.A. work with the band was the impetus for my voiceover career. You could say band has been instrumental (pun intended, cue rim-shot) in my adult life.

It just so happens that this past weekend was Alumni Day for the Maverick Marching Band (typically referred to as the MMB), where they invite UTA alumni of all eras to come out and take in a brief rehearsal and a preview run of this year’s show. As part of that performance, I got to do a run of my pre- and post-show announcements. This year’s announcements acknowledge that UTA is celebrating its 130th anniversary, but more importantly to me, that this is the 40th season that the UTA MMB is performing without a football team.

If you’re not from the Arlington area, you might not realize or know that U.T.-Arlington has no football team, and if so, it’s likely you also didn’t know that they have a marching band without a team. Yes, it is unusual. 40 years ago, it was unheard of. And that is the purpose of this week’s post — to highlight some of the history that led to UTA cancelling its football program, the genesis of the current iteration of the MMB, and the ebb and flow of the band program through the past 40 years. Yes, it is another 2-parter.

To begin, let’s take a trip back in time to 1956. My parents were celebrating their first wedding anniversary, my oldest sister was born, and in Arlington, TX, the Rebels of Arlington State College won a national championship in football. Specifically, they won the Junior Rose Bowl, at the actual Rose Bowl Stadium in Pasadena, defeating Compton College to win the National Junior College Championship. Then in 1957, ASC won it again. College football in Arlington reached its pinnacle with that back-to-back feat 68 years ago, and it’s been downhill ever since.

A quick rundown of those intervening years: Arlington State became a four-year institution in 1959, playing in NCAA Division II. ASC was a founding member of the Southland Conference in 1964 and actually won the conference championship in 1966 and 1967. The 1967 team was the first to play as U.T.-Arlington instead of Arlington State College after the university moved from the Texas A&M system to the U.T. system. To conclude that 1967 season, the UTA Rebels, as they were called, won their final bowl game in school history – The Pecan Bowl in, of all places, Abilene, TX, at Shotwell Stadium.

Shortly after that Pecan Bowl victory, UTA’s student body began to get restless with the school’s Rebel mascot, its use of “Dixie” as the fight song, and the Confederate battle flag as a school symbol, including on the back of the UTA Rebel Band’s uniforms. The University ultimately changed its mascot to Mavericks in 1971, which it retains today. Along the way, UTA also struggled with stadium issues. Memorial Stadium was its on-campus stadium, with a capacity of 10,000, that was usually full during those winning seasons in the late 1960s. But school officials considered it outdated and wanted a larger venue to move up to a higher level of college football. So UTA began playing at Turnpike Stadium in 1970, which would be renamed Arlington Stadium when the Texas Rangers arrived in 1972. The Rangers took complete control of Arlington Stadium, at which point the Mavericks (also known as the Movin’ Mavs) began playing home games at Cravens Field, a high school facility in Arlington.

In retrospect, it’s clear that the stadium issues may have been the beginning of the end for UTA football. When they played on-campus at Memorial Stadium, the Rebels had a strong following. Move to a bigger venue that happens to be multi-purpose for baseball and football? How about a high school stadium with wooden bleachers? Watch the following and attendance dwindle. String together 9 straight losing seasons from 1970 through 1978. Watch the following and attendance dwindle even more. And as the following and attendance dwindled, football began to lose money. Yet UTA managed to get funding for a new 12,000 seat stadium that opened in 1980 – Maverick Stadium. The inaugural game against North Texas State (now the University of North Texas) saw a crowd of 18,000, with temporary bleachers added – this was fortuitous, since the stadium was designed to expand the width of both grandstands and even add a second deck on the east stands. I was there; it was an amazing crowd. It was actually the first college football game broadcast by fledgling cable network ESPN. So much promise, but UTA lost that opener 31-14 on its way to a 3-8 season in 1980, with its only home win before a crowd of 2,000 on a bitterly cold November night. (I was also there.) Maverick Stadium never saw attendance higher than 9,500 for the rest of UTA football’s history and never averaged more than 8,000 in a season. For a program with big-time aspirations, those kinds of attendance numbers were dismal. The team managed to win the Southland Conference once more, in 1981, but alas, that was the year the SLC champion did NOT earn an automatic bid to the Independence Bowl. No extra revenue or exposure there. The last official UTA football game in Maverick Stadium took place on November 16, 1985, a 29-14 loss to Louisiana Tech in front of 4,800 fans. (Guess who was there that day?) A week later, they concluded the 1985 season with yet another loss at NTSU. Then on November 25, 1985, President Wendell Nedderman announced that the University was cancelling the football program due to poor attendance and massive financial losses.

“Interesting story. The takeaway was that you were a fan of a losing team.” I lived 10 minutes from the stadium and I had four old siblings who went to UTA. And I grew up as a sports fan. OF COURSE I went to the games. But amidst the losses on the field, I found myself more and more intrigued by the band, especially after I started playing saxophone the same fall that Maverick Stadium opened. The UTA Maverick Band was mesmerizing to me. Gigantic sound, great colorguard, and what were considered cool uniforms for the late 1970s and early 1980s. “Tomorrow’s Sound, Today” was theIr nickname, and the band was actually ground-breaking for the time in terms of sound and approach. When Maverick Stadium opened, the east stands (opposite the pressbox) were actually the “home” stands where students sat. The band performed halftime to those stands, then they would play postgame to the pressbox (west) side. I found myself mostly sitting on the west side, so I would stick around for postgame, when the stands were empty and the band was extra LOUD. For a budding band nerd, this was nirvana. I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Once I ascended to drum major of my high school marching band, I had designs on being a drum major of the UTA Maverick Band. The reason I was at the last home game on 11/16/85 was because our band was invited to attend and perform at the game (obviously to put some more people in the stands). I was intent on impressing UTA’s directors with my own command of our group; I have no idea if they even noticed my presence, but I knew involvement in the UTA band was on my radar, for sure.

So when the announcement came down on 11/25/85, I pretty much figured that dream was over, and I was looking at breaking off from my siblings and attending a different school than UTA. Then something unique happened. Ray C. Lichtenwalter, Director of Bands at UTA, sought to continue the marching band in spite of the loss of football, but doing so at great risk. There was a movement among some fans to hold a pep rally in favor of football and opposition to President Nedderman’s decision, and these fans approached Mr. Lichtenwalter in hopes of having the band participate in the rally. Lichtenwalter declined these fans, cooperated with Nedderman’s decision, and instead requested that the University continue funding the marching band as an exhibition band. The fans who wanted the University to reconsider football were livid, and they let him know about it. But where had they been the past decade when UTA football was drawing fewer than 8,000 fans per game? Lichtenwalter was focused on how he could serve his students in a new era for UTA. The idea was that, for Music Education students at UTA, marching band was an integral lab environment where they learned how to construct, teach, and perform a modern marching band show in preparation for teaching high school band. Lichtenwalter justified continuation of the program as an academic pursuit as opposed to simply a spirit group that would naturally disband after the cancellation of football. It was a rather forward-thinking move on the part of Mr. Lichtenwalter, which is unsurprising. Lichtenwalter had taught at UTA since 1967, becoming Director of Bands in 1975. He was the brains behind “Tomorrow’s Sound Today,” modernized uniforms, and a new approach to college band at UTA. Over the previous decade, the UTA Maverick Band had evolved into something interesting and groundbreaking. Pursuing marching band without football as its own creative endeavor was simply the next logical step for the program.

In the spring of 1986, I auditioned and was selected to be one of 2 Assistant Drum Majors on a 3-person team at UTA as they embarked on this unprecedented journey. As a result, I became the 5th of 5 members of the Ponce family to attend UTA in the 1970s and 1980s, and I entered an organization that would influence me in countless ways. But more importantly, the UTA Marching Band, “New Direction,” as it was called, began its own journey that would span more than 4 decades exploring music and how it could be conveyed through the medium of marching band.

Come back tomorrow to read how that journey has unfolded.