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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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Reflections on Life. (Hint: It’s Short.)

The past few days have been really busy, including two performances of the UTA Maverick Marching Band’s 40th season without football. (Read all about that HERE and HERE.) Hearing UTA’s new Fight Song after each of those shows reminded me about Dr. Douglas Stotter, the Director of Bands who orchestrated the song for the MMB, and who would have turned 65 years old today had he not passed away suddenly last April. So in his honor, I’ve decided that for this week’s blog post, I will share a piece I wrote for a memory book compiled for his memorial concert last spring.

“I will admit that, when I heard Dr. Douglas Stotter was named Director of Bands at the University of Texas at Arlington back in 2005, I probably wanted to dislike him.

Mind you, I didn’t know him. What I did know was that Phil Clements was the Assistant Director of Bands at UTA from 1994-2004 and had served as Interim Director of Bands in the year following the retirement of Ray C. Lichtenwalter. I had become friends with Phil, both as the Voice of the UTA Marching Band and as President of the UTA Band Alumni Association at the time. And it seemed to me that Phil deserved to be named Director of Bands and have “Interim” taken off his title. When that didn’t happen, I was disappointed, and I may have wanted UTA’s new Director of Bands to be problematic. You know, full of faults and ego, and generally unlikeable. This person should only stick around about 3 years because UTA was merely a stepping stone to his next career objective. That way, whatever disappointment I felt could be justified, and I could wallow in bitterness and self-satisfaction and say “I told you so” about what was happening.

So here comes this guy, Doug Stotter, to my alma mater by way of Indiana University. Someone coming from a high-tone program in the Midwest just might be that person.

But Doug Stotter was the complete opposite of any and all of those horrible things, and he completely doused my disappointment and quelled any bitterness.

Affable. Amiable. Approachable. Self-deprecating. Humorous. Loved music. And I mean, LOVED music. Most of all, loved teaching music, and was great at it. Down-to-earth. Disarmingly nice. Surprisingly understated and composed.

Clearly, UTA was no stepping stone for Dr. Stotter. It was a career destination, sharing his knowledge of and love for music year after year, with quiet wisdom and humility. The music world often embraces loud, boisterous directors with showy conducting styles. I was never in a Doug Stotter ensemble, but I always got the sense from seeing him in front of his students that he didn’t need to yell at anyone, wear conspicuous clothing, or make grand gestures to get his point across. But don’t mistake lack of show for lack of preparation. Dr. Stotter’s ensembles were always prepared, and he conveyed messages clearly through eye contact with the performers, which is probably why he didn’t need grand gestures. His face was telling the performers, “we’ve worked on this, now play it.” He had a reserved acumen, a restrained energy that still projected passion for the music being performed. Love for music doesn’t always need to be shouted, and Doug showed that. The performance of his ensembles speaks to the effectiveness of Dr. Stotter’s teaching, and by that metric, it was remarkable. I didn’t attend every concert, but every time I did, I wondered, “Were we ever that good?” Because Dr. Stotter’s ensembles were SO good. And what turned out to be his final concert was truly sublime, an experience I will never forget.

But countless students can speak better than I can about Dr. Stotter’s love for and approach to music, and the lessons he imparted to his students. What I really value now are the interesting conversations we would always have. Sure, Doug loved music, but he had interests far beyond the world of band. I would typically encounter him the most during the marching season, usually in the pressbox before a UTA show. I was always impressed that Doug remembered my wife and sons and asked how and what they were doing lately. He also had knowledge of and interest in my own career, even though it had moved fair away from the music world. It’s a little ironic that we would see each other at marching band shows and talk about almost anything but marching band. Seriously, how many band directors would you expect to carry on a conversation about economics or educational assessment? One of my favorite MMB memories was the overnight to the Broken Arrow Festival near Tulsa, OK in 2016. The staff and I rode separately in a rented van that Doug drove throughout the trip. We had a stopover outside the Tulsa area for a rehearsal, and Doug and I ended up taking the van to pass some time driving around the area. We talked about a variety of things – sharing college band stories, discussing Kappa Kappa Psi, etc. He asked me about teaching a “traditional” high school class since he wanted my perspective on how it compared to a band class. It was probably only an hour or so, but it was truly engaging conversation. I only wish there was time for more, and I will miss my encounters with Doug immensely.

Thanks for subverting my expectations, Doug. I will always take comfort knowing that you got to conduct an epic concert right before you were called home. RIP”

I find it fitting that UTA hasn’t immediately replaced Dr. Stotter with an Interim Director of Bands and has, instead, enlisted a slate of guest conductors to work with their Wind Symphony throughout 2025-26 for The Dr. Douglas Stotter Artist-In-Residence series. An excellent course of action given the sudden nature of the situation last April.

Here’s a fundamental thing I learned from Dr. Stotter, and certainly in the course of my education career, as well: People Have Value, So Value Them. That doesn’t mean you have to be a super-gregarious extrovert shouting “let’s make a difference.” Just be kind. At his core, Doug Stotter was simply a kind person who wanted to help his students, and who was nice to others. He quietly showed people that he valued them. He happened to do so professionally as a band director, but anyone can achieve the same objective, no matter what their profession is.

Doug’s sudden passing also underscores another important lesson: Hug your loved ones, and let them know that you care. Show appreciation to mentors, colleagues, anyone who has had a positive impact on your life. Life Is Short, and you may not know when it’s the last time you get to speak with someone.

And just for good measure, one additional lesson: Because Life is Short, spend yours doing something you enjoy. I was deeply disturbed and shocked by Doug Stotter’s sudden passing, but I took solace in the fact that he got to do exactly what he loved at perhaps the highest level right before he left this life. And that realization was at least part of the impetus for me to retire from public education. There was no way on this earth that I wanted even a remote possibility that I could pass away in the midst of…testing. No. Way. There were other factors in my decision, but if you’ve read some of my earlier posts, you know how I grew to feel about the testing realm, and it was time to say goodbye. Know when it’s time to say goodbye in your own profession (or personal life), because we won’t always know when it’ll be our time to go.

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40 Years of “The Marching Band Without Football” – Part 2

Yesterday, I posted Part 1 about the UTA Maverick Marching Band, including a history of the successes and ultimate demise of UTA football, and how UTA’s marching band managed to continue without a football team to play for. READ THAT POST HERE.

TLDR: UTA football was a once-proud program that slowly crumbled due to stadium issues and poor win-loss records, which led to faltering attendance and financial losses until the program was cancelled on November 25, 1985. But the UTA Marching Band survived as an academic pursuit thanks to the vision of Ray C. Lichtenwalter and the support of President Wendell Nedderman and his administration.

Year 1, 1986 – the UTA Marching Band, “New Direction.” That was literally the name the band used on promotional materials and in the announcement script. The official band t-shirts given out during summer band camp were changed from “UTA Maverick Band” to simply “UTA Marching Band.” Maverick (Movin’ Mav) football was gone. Not only was the very act of fielding a marching band without a football team audacious, but the 1986 band performed a musically bold show: H. Owen Reed’s La Fiesta Mexicana. The subtitle of this piece is “A Mexican Folk Song Symphony for Concert Band.” Assistant Director of Bands John Carnahan arranged the music and wrote all the drill. Percussion Coordinator Michael Varner arranged the percussion. Colorguard legend Karl Lowe choreographed the guard. For the era, it was ambitious and forward-thinking, in keeping with the UTA Band’s usual approach. For a band that was used to doing body waves as the team ran onto the field and performing college football halftimes, it was, at times, too much. The show itself lasted over 12 minutes, far more than a college band was used to. The show was approaching the level of a drum corps production for the era, but without daily rehearsals to perfect it. The 1986 performance tour was also ambitious, because the band needed to prove itself to University officials that first year and show just how this thing could work. There were two different postgame performances at high school football games. There was a Saturday where the band played after Prelims at the Plano East Marching Festival before returning to Arlington to play after Finals at the UTA Band Alumni Marching Contest. The highlight of the season was a trip to Austin for the Westlake Marching Festival, where the band performed to the pressbox side, then turned around and performed again to the visitors’ side, since that’s where all the high school band members (and prospective UTA students) were sitting. One exhibition, two performances. That first year was monumental and exhausting, but it showed that the UTA Marching Band meant business and wanted to accomplish something special, something unique.

1987 saw the UTA Band perform Gustav Holst’s The Planets. Another musically ambitious production developed by the same staff, but the show wasn’t quite as long and the tour wasn’t quite as demanding. In 1988, John Carnahan departed, as did Karl Lowe. UTA hired Bobby Francis as Assistant Director of Bands, but instead of moving forward with the planned production of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, UTA instead performed selections by Aaron Copland, including Rodeo, Billy the Kid, and Appalachian Spring. There was a noticeable drop-off in performance. It was becoming clear that some of the stalwart students hanging on from the days of football were getting a little tired of band by itself. 1989 was a critical year for the band, as the goal was simply to recapture a higher performance level in a show that featured an eclectic mix of music from Jerry Goldsmith and Sandi Patty. (You read that correctly.) 1989 also featured the final shows wearing the uniforms UTA first wore in 1978, and after 12 seasons, they were showing their age, both dated and worn-out.

1990 was my fifth and final year as drum major (as a solo Drum Major, at that). More importantly, the season ushered in new uniforms – a significant investment by the University – and the genesis of the student advisory committee, which helped decide the music and general programming for the show. “A Fantastic Journey,” featuring Krypton Fanfare from John Williams’ score for Superman, along with music from Back to the Future, The Boy Who Could Fly, and The Last Starfighter, was not as high-brow as Reed, Holst, or Copland, but definitely accessible music with a connecting theme. The staff added Denise Williamson (now Armstrong) as the guard director, and the band’s personnel had cycled through to include students who really wanted to be in the UTA Marching Band not for the novelty, but because they wanted a chance to perform in college at the highest possible level. The powerful sound was back. The visual performance was elevating. Indeed, a fantastic year, and I was privileged to lead the ensemble as 1990 proved that the proverbial experiment from only 5 years prior had emerged as a legitimate program.

The remainder of the 1990s retained a similar pattern – music from The Rocketeer and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991), Jesus Christ Superstar (1992) – including an exhibition at the UIL State Marching Contest, and Cats (1993). Bobby Francis departed in 1993 to become Director of Bands at East Texas State University (now East Texas A&M), and UTA hired Phillip Clements (now the Executive Director of the Texas Bandmasters Association) as Assistant Director of Bands. Phil came in from the University of North Texas with DCI experience, and his expertise allowed the band to ascend even further. The music of Blood, Sweat, and Tears, the Who’s Tommy, and more…shows that combined musical excellence with exciting themes that the band could easily portray and audiences could really enjoy. In 1998, Dr. Jack Gibson, the band’s P.A. Announcer since 1978, decided to “retire” from the job, and I was invited by Mr. Clements to take over. I felt privileged yet again to associate directly with this ensemble and showcase their performances with my voice to conclude the 20th century with “Arabia!” (1998), Stan Kenton’s Adventures in Time (1999), and “Peace, Love, and Revolution!” (2000).

2001 was another watershed year in the history of the UTA Marching Band, as they traveled to Indianapolis to perform an exhibition at the Bands of America Grand Nationals Championships. The other BOA exhibition band that year? The University of Massachusetts Minuteman Marching Band, under the direction of the legendary George Parks. UTA’s show was called “Passion!” and opened with a rendition of Ravel’s Bolero, featured an assortment of Latin music, and concluded with Ginastera’s Danza Final. The most ambitious program since 1986, clocking in at 11 minutes, because, well…Grand Nationals, buddy. I will never forget watching the band rehearse inside the old RCA Dome at 1:00am on Saturday morning in preparation for an exhibition later that day. I will also never forget their epic performance, or enjoying a rather satisfying dinner with the entire staff at The Eagle’s Nest after the show. That momentum carried over into 2002 as the University financed another set of new uniforms for the band’s production of Moulin Rouge, featuring music from the Baz Luhrmann film.

Then came 2003, which was, in my humble estimation, the pinnacle of the UTA Marching Band’s performances since the end of football. By this time, the band had become a veritable machine. The members were all really mature and businesslike. If the buses were to be loaded by 3:45pm, everyone was seated and ready to go by 3:30. That kind of group. The show was called “Colors” and featured Samuel Hazo’s Ride, Van Morrison’s “Moondance,” and music from the Cirque du Soleil show La Nouba. The show had everything, and Moondance was the closest I’ve ever heard a marching band get to drum-corps-level energy. CHECK OUT THE SHOW HERE.

In the spring of 2004, Ray C. Lichtenwalter retired. He received many accolades and a David Maslanka work commissioned in his honor, all deservedly so after 37 years at UTA and 30 years as Director of Bands. Phil Clements was named Interim Director of Bands with UTA alum David Clemmer as Interim Assistant Director of Bands. The Clements/Clemmer team oversaw  “A Show You Can’t Refuse” in 2004, featuring music from The Godfather, and while it wasn’t quite the level of “Colors,” the band was still incredible. But come 2005, the University named Dr. Douglas Stotter as Director of Bands, and the marching band staff cleared out. No more Phil Clements, David Clemmer, or Denise Armstrong. Dr. Stotter hired an Assistant Director for the 2005 season who seemed promising, but he alienated students and eventually resigned literally one week before the 2006 summer band camp (what a lovely guy). Dr. Stotter ended up having to hire a different Assistant for 2006, then another one for 2007. The instability (along with certain decisions by the University) hurt the band’s numbers over these years and all but gutted the colorguard. The band still performed well enough, but for those who followed the UTA Marching Band since the end of football, “What happened?” was a common refrain.

In 2015, the University financed uniforms once again that were more traditional and featured the latest “A” logo of the school. The Assistant Director of Bands was John Zastoupil (now Director of Bands at the University of Tennessee), and his intent was essentially to rebuild and work toward what the band used to be. The band was now referenced as the “Maverick Marching Band,” or MMB, as UTA sought to rebrand slightly and emphasize the Maverick mascot again. Dr. Zastoupil departed for a promotion in 2017, and Dr. Christopher Evans (no, not the Captain America actor) signed on as Assistant Director of Bands, where he still presently serves. 

Dr. Evans, quite honestly, is someone who “gets it” and has sought to honor the legacy that the UTA Band has built since 1986. He’s previously worked with top-tier high school bands in Texas and is familiar with the demands of a unique college marching program like UTA’s, both as a performing ensemble and as a teaching lab for prospective band directors. He also understands the need for stability and is acutely aware of how even only a few shaky years can decimate a program. Dr. Evans has guided the band toward steady growth each year, even navigating all the unusual protocols of the 2020 season to accomplish a “virtual” exhibition season. The colorguard is still unusually small these days, but the band’s numbers and performance level have risen over the past decade. The MMB is now receiving additional funding from the Department of Student Affairs, and new uniforms are also on the horizon for 2026. In spite of Dr. Stotter’s untimely passing in April 2025, Dr. Evans has maintained a rock-solid foundation for the students, and I hope he gets a fair shot to continue at UTA as Director of Bands. It’s my privilege to showcase the MMB at each performance, and I look forward to many more years in that role as the band progresses further toward 50 years and more without UTA football. Here’s to a continued fun and rewarding journey.

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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.

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Modern Marching Band: The Magical, the Mundane, and the Remarkable – Part 2

Yesterday, I posted Part 1 on this topic and attempted to scratch the surface of what goes into a given marching band season and why it’s awesome, why it’s magical. Read that post here. TLDR: When you consider everything that goes into learning to play an instrument, spin a flag, march, dance, execute drill design, perfect it, and do it all together…you will find few things that are more satisfying and personally fulfilling.

But guess what? Marching band can also be rather mundane. Consider the following:

  • There’s a football game every week, and at least half of those (more for some schools) involve travel. Riding a bus back to school at 11:00pm on a Friday night when you’re exhausted is not exactly anyone’s definition of fun.
  • There’s a drill team song to learn and perform every week. Don’t get me wrong – there’s nothing wrong with drill team, per se; they work hard just like bands and accomplish impressive things. But that stop-down every Thursday to rehearse with them plus the Friday performance also gets tedious over 10 weeks.
  • Stand tunes can be cool, but they can also wear mighty thin. Seriously, how many times can anyone play “The ‘Hey’ Song” and “Seven Nation Army” without going a little bit crazy? (Although to be fair, “Land of 1,000 Dances” never gets old, IMO.)
  • There are times during the marching season that become an enormous grind. Look at the calendar – we are literally in one of those times today, 9/17/25. When I taught drum major camps, I used to teach everyone this: The DM’s leadership isn’t that essential on the first day of band camp, or at the first performance, or at any contest. Everybody’s pumped for those times. It’s easy. No, the DM is most critical in mid-September, when the temperature is still in the 90s, the band hasn’t performed at any contests yet, the show is mostly learned by now but you’re working on all the parts where the ensemble is struggling, tempers are on-edge, and enthusiasm is low. THAT is when the drum major needs to be at their best, helping the group power through those grinding times.
  • If you have a good football team, marching season can seem to last forever because the season then goes more than 10 weeks.
  • Contests are cool, but they can also be a grind. It’s an entire Saturday gone, and you might have important assignments to complete for classes. Imagine working on homework in the stands while other bands perform because otherwise, it won’t get done. Plus, it might still be warm outside, so you’re sweating almost the entire day. Now imagine doing that every weekend for an entire month.
  • October often features weather that is windy and possibly rainy. This poses many challenges as you’re trying to perfect your show and losing rehearsal time to rain and possibly lightning, or simply struggling in high winds.
  • In all honesty, sometimes the shows themselves are really mundane. Marching band often relies heavily on imitation; everybody wants to do stuff that’s popular in DCI or among the top-tier bands at UIL and BOA competitions. The activity is beholden to trends, sometimes to its detriment. There was a period several years ago, for instance, where it seemed like every show was “Title: Subtitle, in four movements – I. Noun II. Noun III. Noun IV. Noun and Noun.” I would joke that I could simply announce everyone with “Please welcome the Average Suburban High School Marching Band,” and no one would even notice. Thankfully, we’ve moved beyond that phase, and the shows are a bit more imaginative these days.

I could delve into a bit of an old-man rant from this point forward because there are certainly other things that are frustrating about the activity: People often question whether marching band is valuable as music education because so much time is spent working on a limited amount of music rather than expanding students’ repertoire. (There’s an old adage that marching band could be called “Learning to Hate Music, Three Songs at a Time.”) Sometimes what judges reward is more style and less substance, which incentivizes schools to spend more resources on props and other extraneous aspects of the show. There are definitely socioeconomic disparities in marching band. By and large, you will find a strong correlation between the wealthiest schools and the bands that score highest at UIL and non-UIL contests alike. Marching band is awesome, but the activity is far from perfect.

But here’s the thing: In this activity, perfection, in the end, is a goal but not actually an objective. Every band will strive to perfect what they’re performing. None of them will achieve it at a 100% level for 100% of the time. And that’s OK. The act of striving for perfection in a safe and healthy environment, with people you grow to love, in service to music and a product that requires everyone’s involvement, IS the point. Each ensemble begins its season at a certain beginning place and works toward “the perfect place” for 3-4 months, and then it’s over. The journey and the work involved matters more than any result. Some groups will need a new trophy case to hold all their hardware. Good for them. Some groups will just be happy to advance to finals at an invitational, or to UIL Area, or to UIL State. Good for them. Some groups will expect trophies but be unable to capture them, or expect to advance to State and finish as alternates, or not make Area Finals. All for reasons they may not grasp because the judging system is inherently subjective, and their show didn’t receive sufficient points in the right places. It is not the same as losing an athletic contest, because you cannot necessarily watch the film or examine the stats and say “we would’ve won if only…” It’s the nature of competition in competitive marching band, and sometimes it leaves ensembles wondering what-if. There is no shame in that as long as they can look back at how their performance progressed through the season and how the members connected with one another – if you can look back at those things with satisfaction, then the scores do not matter. Sure, it’s disappointing; everyone likes to achieve high scores and win. But years from now you’ll think about the joy of the experience, not tab sheets or trophies.

And the experience should be joyful, because it is remarkable. Regardless of what anyone in their 40s or older may think about the music, the choreography, the props, the amplification, the costumes, or any other aspect of a modern marching band production, what the students accomplish is astounding. I’m in my 50s and marched in the 1980s and 90s. In high school, we primarily marching symmetrical drill on a fairly rudimentary level. In college, the drill was more advanced, and we added basic choreography in places, but none of it was like what you see today. The music, drill, and choreography an audience member will witness at a typical marching band contest these days should boggle their minds. I knew guys 40 years ago who would’ve gotten physically injured trying to do what bands do today. Who couldn’t produce a sound on their instrument marching modern drill. Who would cramp up, seize up, or fold up trying to play the music of the caliber that students perform today.

Music education has advanced, to its credit. The “marching arts,” as many like to call the activity, have also advanced. These are good things. Students get an opportunity to do amazing things and perform on an elite level. “But it’s not like it used to be.” Okay. Whatever. People used to teach band members to “pound the ground” when marking time. “Kill the grass!” They used to teach techniques that are now suspect. They used to haze new members and make them feel terrible and unwanted. Does anyone really think it would be productive or educational to return to those days? And while there are people who live for old-school military bands marching 6-to-5 from end zone to end zone and despise props and microphones and speakers and dance movements, a person’s preference for the kind of show should not detract from the remarkable work the students are accomplishing. Modern military bands are also great. Bands that perform HBCU-style shows are also amazing. Those styles have advanced, as well. Honestly, no matter the particular style of show, the challenge of any marching show from the 20th century pales in comparison to the demands of a modern show, where students might be flying across 40 different spots on the field while doing choreography and maintaining sufficient body control to play with incredible musicality. Complain about the shows, if you want. Respect the performers. Celebrate them. Band students are awesome. Band is still awesome. It’s remarkable.

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Modern Marching Band: The Magical, the Mundane, and the Remarkable – Part 1

Last Friday, I worked a high school football game for the second week in a row. That’s no big deal, but for context, consider that, from 2004 to 2018, I did PA announcing for high school football, including 12 years from 2007-2018 where I was the exclusive voice of all games at a local stadium. Then I left that district and have only done substitute football PA work since. My last game prior to this year was in 2022. Being immersed in the high school football scene for so many years, followed by a respite, followed by back-to-back experiences, elicited some observations that I had not really expected. “Is this post about football?” Not really. High school football is high school football – a mixed bag, depending on the season, the teams, and the time of the season. I’ll post thoughts on high school football some other time, but today we really need to talk about marching bands.

I am, proudly, a band nerd. Started learning saxophone in the summer of 1980, and still play when I can. Also, I could specifically be considered a marching band nerd. Drum Major at my high school for 2 years, followed by 5 years at my university (I took 4.5 years to finish my Bachelor’s degree, so I marched that extra season.) I’ve followed Drum Corps International since 1984. I actually got into voiceover primarily through doing PA announcing for marching band contests, and I have been the PA voice of the U.T. Arlington Maverick Marching Band since 1998. (Yes, I’m also kind of old.) The point is, I’ve been in bands, I’ve led bands, I’ve showcased bands, and I’ve watched bands with an educated and experienced set of eyes and ears for 45 years.

“Oh, boy, here comes an old man rant about how silly modern marching band is because of how much it’s changed.” Actually, no. I will admit to having issued old-man-rants in the past about certain elements of marching band and drum corps, but I think my perspective is tempered now by a little more age and a lot more wisdom.

Straight-up honesty…Band is awesome. Marching Band is awesome. (Concert Band is awesome, too, but I’ll detail why in another post some other time.) Marching Band isn’t perfect, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is simply incredible. Why? Let’s start from the ground up. (“From the top,” if you will.) Learning to play a musical instrument successfully is, on its face, a magical thing when you think about it. The required physical dexterity demands a level of concentration many people don’t realize. But that concentration eventually becomes second-nature and habitual, to the point that even an amateur player is accomplishing something amazing. The player also learns to read music, decoding all the symbols and terms and changing the sounds they’re making to bring what’s on the page to sonic life. Now put that player in an ensemble, where they have to listen to everyone else, follow the conductor, and match it all up to create a performance.

Sounds cool, right? Great! Now, stand up, move your feet to the beat, then learn a bunch of new step styles to glide across a football field while still playing your instrument. Forward and Backward. Establish control of your body so that your legs can take you one direction while your upper body faces another, maintaining proper posture to allow you to blow through your horn or play your drum(s) accurately. Now learn to change the direction and position of every part of your body. Oh yeah…you also have to move from Point A to Point B in X number of counts, maintaining awareness of everyone else around you so that, when everyone is positioned properly, it “looks like something” from the stands. (In band terms, it’s called “form.”) And while you’re engaging in all this movement, you’re still playing, AND you’ve memorized all the music. All of it.

Prefer to ditch the playing part and just do visual things on the field? Fantastic! You can join the colorguard. Here’s a flag – you’re going to learn how to hold it in various positions, how to spin it, how to toss it in the air and catch it. Here’s a rifle; same skills but with a different shape and weight. Here’s a bunch of other equipment – more flags, sabers, whatever your instructor can dream up – and you’ll learn to use this stuff, too. We’ll teach you a bunch of movements using this equipment, and you also get to memorize all of it and perform it to the music played.

Now, everyone, we’re also going to learn how to dance. Not dancing like at a club, but actual ballet principles – foot positions, leg positions, general body movement. Colorguard, you’re going to go even deeper with these skills so that you can jump, spin, and perform other choreography together. You might literally lift and carry each other around at times. You might also have props on the field that you could stand on, move, step around, change, or march across. You’re also going to do this wearing uniforms and/or costumes, and we might have moments where you change something on your uniform so that the colors on the field look different. Of course, you also have to carry all the stuff you take onto the field back off of it, before the clock expires.

Oh! Before we forget – some of you need to step forward as drum majors, leading and coordinating this on the field. You will help manage our rehearsals, try to inspire and motivate everybody, and conduct all the music at the correct tempo and with appropriate style. You’ll be the proverbial face of the group, acknowledging the judges and audience, and generally representing what your band stands for. You’ll have some authority, but everybody on the field is also the same age as you, and they are your peers, so walk that line carefully. And be sure to help us keep our energy high when everyone’s wondering if any of this is worth it or is otherwise not on their best behavior.

So, we’re going merge all of these skills to learn roughly 8-11 minutes of music, movement, and choreography, start learning and rehearsing it in the heat of August, then work to perfect it over the next 2 months so that we can perform it by October. It just might suck at first, but we’ll work on it all to make bad stuff good and the good stuff better. Did I mention we’re going to do all this work before or after school? Did I also mention that you still have to go to class and maintain your grades?

By the way, every Friday, we go to every football game, and you’ll have to carry all your stuff with you to the game. You might not even go home after school and instead make it a 16-hour (or longer) day. Some of you will help load all the percussion equipment and large instruments on a truck. We’ll go into the stands and cheer our heads off for the football team, except for midway through the 2nd quarter, when we’ll head to the end zone to prep for our halftime performance. Then back into the stands for the second half. We’ll repeat that process for at least 10 weeks. And in October, we’ll spend time rehearsing every Saturday before we pack up and head out to a contest, where we’ll hope to perform twice. We may also have some other performances on October weeknights.

But wait, that’s not all. We’ll also learn music to play in the stands at football games, plus a different song each week to play for the drill team’s performance. Don’t forget the fight song, alma mater, and national anthem. Plus there may be additional music to learn as the season goes on. If the football team advances to the playoffs, we might learn a different show just to keep things interesting. And some of you will also still work on longer, more difficult concert music for the stage in addition to everything else.

Sound cool? Trust me, it is. But the whole experience, laid out like this, also sounds incredibly daunting. And…it IS. But it’s worth it, and it really is magical. The sense of accomplishment an individual performer gets as they learn the fundamentals, then apply them, then have a chance to hone them, then perform on a higher and higher level, is astonishing. The sense of camaraderie the entire group can develop as they work through a given season is unbelievable. The sense of belonging students and alumni can establish over several years with a school band program is indescribable. People like to say, “they work as hard as the football team.” If we’re just talking about time commitment and perhaps physical effort, that may be true. But band is fundamentally different from any sport. Athletic success is, for better or worse, measured on the scoreboard for all to see, and student-athletes can become disheartened by a losing season or gratified by a winning one. Marching band has scores at contests, but those can be terribly misleading because there are many more intrinsic rewards. No one knows the exact sum of effort and determination it took a given ensemble just to get there except the performers themselves. A band could finish last at every contest and still come away feeling like it was a magical season. And it is magical.

Come back tomorrow to read about the mundane and the remarkable.