Descriptive Essay: Jaguar Pride

One cool, September afternoon, I stood in a hotel parking lot with 200 of my closest friends, in an unfamiliar state. Charter buses sat in the background with window paint announcing our arrival in a loud, “JAGUAR PRIDE!” The sun rose on the horizon, scattering blues and pinks across our faces. We were divided into two groups, the larger stood not twenty feet away doing breathing exercises and stretches, the smaller divided into its own groups, both of which battling the wind and the sun; the elements acting against us. We warmed up and we fought the elements, but there was always someone reminding us, “Savor this moment, this is what we’re here for.” Before we knew it, we were standing at the gates of Welcome Stadium, waiting, hearts pumping, minds reeling, some of us numb, for our chance to show Dayton what the Jaguar Pride was made of. We took the field, and everything that could have gone wrong, did. Our sound system crashed, we couldn’t hear the pit playing the opening, and we couldn’t see the drum majors giving us the count off, because we were stuffed into formation
The color guard wasn’t the only one to experience this - I think the band learned that it was the guard’s passionate performance and lack of lost hope that pulled the ensemble into finals. They learned that connecting to the show is one of the most important aspects of what we do. We spend hours on end rehearsing, taking weeks out of our summers, and weekends out of the school year - which begs the question, if you’re not here because you’re passionate about this, because you have connected to it, then why are you wasting your and our time? It’s logic I live by; if you can’t connect with something, then there’s no point in doing it. I’ve learned through the slew of activities I’m a part of that pouring yourself into what you do is one of the most rewarding things in