If you happen to follow any of my Meta-owned social media (Facebook, Instagram, Threads), then you’ve seen frequent posts from me on Saturdays doing PA and sound for a Winterguard event. Usually, it’s a photo of a high school gym with views from my table and from some other place in the venue. I typically don’t include a photo of the action on the floor because 1) I don’t want to post any image to which a performing group might object, and 2) I’m don’t always have an opportune moment to capture a good photo. Most likely, though, it wouldn’t matter if I did post an action shot, because Winterguard is something the average person has never even heard of.

Having said that, I encourage you to explore the world of Winterguard on YouTube. Just search “Winterguard” and check out what comes up. No doubt you will see some shows from the Winter Guard International (WGI) World Championships (obviously the culmination of each season), but you’ll also come across some WGI Regional performances and perhaps local circuits, like the North Texas Colorguard Association, for whom I’ve worked the past several years. Go ahead, fall down that rabbit hole, and be astounded at the artistry and athleticism on display.

“So why is this stuff called ‘Winterguard? It look just like flag twirling and dancing in a gym.’” If that’s you’re reaction, although you’re not completely inaccurate, you are so, SO wrong. There was a TV ad for Hampton Inn a few years ago that depicted a dad taking his daughter to guard competitions, and they called it “flag dancing.” UGH. So, some brief history: In the 1970s, high school marching bands around the country typically marched end zone-to-end zone, “military” style, and they included “featured twirlers” for some extra visual flare. Flags weren’t necessarily part of the halftime show, and when they were, many schools referred to it as the “flag corps” (to go with the “drum corps”). Mercifully, both of those terms have been retired, save for the person who just may not know it. The term “color guard” is literally military, referring to the soldiers who carry, or guard, the colors, i.e., the U.S. flag. In the world of drum & bugle corps, the colorguard still actually carries/guards the colors at retreats. But as the drum corps activity evolved, the colorguard expanded in number and in the ways it contributed to the show. It literally took on a life of its own, with performers spinning (NEVER “twirling” ) a variety of flags, rifles, sabres, and more. While Drum Corps International (DCI) formed in 1972 to govern the drum & bugle corps activity, WGI formed in 1977 because colorguard had expanded to a year-round endeavor. Every DCI corps had a guard on the field accompanying the brass and percussion in the summer, but then many of those same guards would rehearse and perform an indoor show during the winter. Hence the name “winter guard.” Other guards formed that only performed during the winter. It became very much its own thing. And still, you may have never heard of it.

Since the 1980s, the term “colorguard,” not “flag corps,” is the generally accepted term, just as marching percussion is called the “drumline” and no longer the “drum corps.” “Drum Corps” instead refers to the drum & bugle corps activity, the “DC” in DCI. The “WG” in WGI is, of course “Winter Guard.” These days, a given student entering junior high or middle school might embark on a career in guard lasting well over a decade, depending on that student’s enjoyment of and commitment to the activity. Over the course of that career, the student will be part of a cadet and/or novice unit in middle school/junior high during winter only, since there’s currently no such thing as junior high marching band. The student will likely be involved in band, as well, though not every school requires guard members to play an instrument. (Though it definitely helps from the standpoint of rhythm and phrasing, among other skills). This student will learn how to carry, spin, flip, toss, and exchange a flag, a rifle, and probably a sabre. Those items are called “equipment,” and the student will accumulate many, many skills using each of them. I honestly don’t know all the terminology involved, but I do know that guard judging guidelines include a thing called “equipment vocabulary,” which is basically what it sounds like — the greater variety of movements a group can do with a wide range of equipment, the better the score.

But equipment is only one part of the score. There’s also movement. And yes, it is dance, but not in the sense of what you see anywhere from youth dance competitions to high school and college dance teams to professional shows. “Movement vocabulary” in colorguard competitions isn’t quite that extensive, but guard performers learn foot positions and principles of body positioning as it relates to their art form. Students with a background in dance definitely have an advantage, but nearly any performer can master the dance principles needed for the activity. Add movement and equipment skills together in a given performer, hone and build them year after year, enlarge the vocabulary over time, and increase the performance demands, and that performer will accomplish physical, mental and emotional feats that truly impress and entertain. (Some of those performers will continue in the activity as instructors themselves, or perhaps judges and event staff.) Now multiply that performer by anywhere from 6 to 30 for a given ensemble. String together roughly 40-60 performances filled with these performers, and you’ll have an idea of how I spend many of my Saturdays each winter into spring. Is it like announcing a huge sporting event with 10,000+ screaming fans? Not really, but not many PA guys ever get that experience, anyway. But don’t think that these shows are poorly attended. The gym always fills up. Always. And it gets downright rowdy for WGI Regionals and NTCA Championship shows. There’s parents, families, friends, and just plain fans who genuinely appreciate the activity. The WGI World Championships, held annually in Dayton, Ohio, regularly sell out. There’s a community out there that loves this stuff, even if the average person probably has no idea what it is or who’s involved.

“So why haven’t I heard of it?” That’s a great question. Some of it comes down to marketing. WGI and DCI have both sought ways to expand their reach over the years, but the “marching arts,” as they call it, remain fairly niche. Now, why does this activity matter so much to me at this time of year, as a voiceover talent? It’s actually quite simple. My place in VO is never about starring roles; I view myself always in a supporting role. You have something that needs a professional voice showcasing it. A message, an idea, a product, or in this case, an event. (Hey, that’s like my website tagline!) In the context of a Winterguard show, we’re actually talking a large event comprised of a series of small events, each 3-7 minutes long featuring a group of these performers whose skills could and should astound you. My job is simply to showcase THEM. It’s also frankly one of the tougher VO gigs out there, because I’m not just the PA guy. I’m actually called the “sound engineer,” because I also play the audio tracks for each ensemble’s performance. It’s a bigger responsibility than you might think, because if I make a mistake, it hinders the performance on the floor. Ultimately, my job at these gigs is to help each guard unit – Every. Single. One. – have their best possible performance. That means, as a Live Announce voiceover pro, I introduce each group with the proper timing, energy, and pronunciation (I live in Texas, so sometimes that’s more challenging than you think.) I have to follow completely the announcer guidelines provided by the sponsoring organization (typically NTCA or WGI). And I have to manage the music provided for each unit, including timing, adjusting volume as needed, and troubleshooting as required. Oh yeah, I am also literally my own roadie for the first and last 45-60 minutes of each day. Not every performance gym has a reliable sound system, so I am often asked to set up a portable sound system provided by the organization. That system consists of two 2500-watt powered speakers (weighing around 60 lbs each) on stands, cables for audio signal and power, mixer, microphone, etc. I bring a lot of my own gear, including a MacBook Pro to play all music. Arrive at the venue two hours early, set everything up and test it, then prep for the gig. When it’s all over, break everything down, load it into my car, and leave. It includes far more work than your typical PA gig where you show up and just sit down in front of the mic. Pays more, too, but that’s not why I enjoy it so much.

Of course, I deeply enjoy watching the shows. In the world of sports, I consider the sound of a basketball falling cleanly through the net to be the best one. But don’t underestimate the power of hearing the unified >snap< of several rifles being caught cleanly at once, or the >whoosh< of flags spinning, flying, and landing perfectly together. There’s even artistry in the logistics of setup and tear-down, as each unit unfurls their vinyl floor, sets up their props and equipment, then gathers it all up afterward. But what I really enjoy is not just the activity, the logistics, the athleticism, or the artistry. (WGI’s tag line is “Sport of the Arts,” which is really quite inventive.) What I find most gratifying is that, because it’s an intimate setting with a manageable number of performers, you get to see some raw emotion fully displayed, up close. I also announce at marching band contests in the fall, and I’ve written before about how great modern marching band is. But a typical marching show involves 100 people or more, and because you’re watching it in a football stadium, your view of individuals can be limited. At a Winterguard show inside a gym, the individual has nowhere to hide. And it can be glorious. Because I do multiple shows throughout the season, I get to see some units early-season, when they’re still growing from their mistakes, and late-season, when they’ve added new equipment work, new movement, and perfected all of it. You want to experience a cool sense of emotion? Watch a guard performer struggle and persist through a bunch of early-season struggles with tosses, then come back 6 weeks later and watch that same performer nail every single one. Watch everyone’s faces, especially late-season, when they know this show, they know they know it, and they’re truly performing it with energy, emotion, and excellence. The performances themselves can be breathtaking to view, but it’s gratifying just to watch the emotions, and I’m privileged to have a role providing a foundation of poise and professionalism as each unit puts their work and their achievements on the floor for all to see.

And as with just about any team activity, as cool as the “product” may be, what seems every bit as enjoyable for the performers are the connections they develop with one another. This coming weekend, NTCA will host their top-level Championships (they’ve already had two championships for younger units) for the 2026 season, and the awards after Finals will feature a full retreat, where every unit gets to enter the floor and be recognized. The performers will come in uniform, but they’ll also be armed with t-shirts, with sunglasses, with something that expresses their camaraderie and esprit de corps. They’ll have some kind of marker on seniors who have made their last performance with the unit. They’ll celebrate their achievements this season, but more than that, they’ll celebrate rehearsing, performing and growing with each other. They’ll stay on the floor after the ceremony concludes to take photos and sing to whatever music I have pumping for them. (And I have developed a pretty keen sense for what songs resonate in this setting.) And they’ll have benefited more than any of us can imagine, learning lessons about themselves, about working with others, that go beyond equipment and movement, and that will resonate forever. And yet so many have never heard of it. But now you, dear reader, have. The next step would be to check it out. You’ll be glad you did, if only because you’ll know what “Winterguard” actually is, how difficult and amazing the shows can be, and so you won’t ever use phrases like “flag dancing” or “twirling rifles.” Enjoy.