Something to Say
Friday, October 21, 2011 at 11:54PM For the most recent post about OSUMB, go here.
10/24/11: Drum Major Jason Stuckert holds court into the Tasting Room. His reponse follows the original post.
The 2011 Ohio State Spring Game was a damp affair, a confusing jumble of scrimmage rules conducted in a steady drizzle. The news of several suspensions handed down by the NCAA clung to the scarlet seats and the metal bleachers; there was no scrubbing it out of the day. You’re supposed to see new life and hope and green shoots and baby chicks in the spring. That day, in Ohio Stadium, there was winter drizzle. Also lacrosse.
Where there was football, some sense of the vibrant colors and brittle, cleansing air of fall, there was the Athletic Band, playing cheers and snatches of school songs. They’d been marching, rehearsing, and watching video playback for days, stitching together a post-game show complete with drills and a modified ramp entrance. This was the same band I’d once lost, but found again by virtue of stopping to listen for it, stopping my own wandering and allowing the music guide me in where I needed to be. There was yet more to learn.
Before the scrimmage, I stood with a few slightly damp members of D Row within the Band Center as Drum Major Jason Stuckert, just a few weeks from defending his title, issued directives concerning the high school students who were visiting campus: “…to turn the list into the office. This is not my raincoat.”
This final sentence, issued in full confluence with the previous pronouncements without a single break in rhythm, was punctuated by Jason staring briefly down in wonderment at this garment which belonged to someone else, then departing without further comment. All of the Athletic Band wore the same University-issued rain gear, but Jason knew his own, and he was bent on re-claiming it.
With the scrimmage over and the players long off the field, the Athletic Band gathered around Assistant Director Jonathan Waters for last-minute directions, but what they got was marching orders right out of the Stadium. There was lightning in the area, too close to campus for safety. The post-game show was cancelled, but the A-Band would gather outside the Band Center and play the program anyway. Several heads tipped back in the rain to examine the exhausted gray sky for evidence, for flashes of light, but nobody saw anything. They hoisted their instruments.
Jason and his metal baton marched them up the Stadium’s south ramp and loose ranks were formed on the wide sidewalk. Parents and girlfriends and high school band directors pressed close, cameras in the air. Jon Waters climbed up on a concrete planter, conducing from beneath a dripping tree barely in bud.
The number of players outstripped the amount of people watching. I backed away to the outer wall of the Stadium to give them room, stay out of the shot. Over the past several days I’d seen the narrowed eyes on faces of the musicians, the straight axels of their backs, and those who’d stayed, who loved them most, must see this too.
Occasionally I saw the head and shoulders of Jason performing in a delivery unloading zone as he leapt to catch the baton between his legs. Sometimes just his baton flickered high up into the overcast, the lightning we’d been promised but had yet to see. The little crowd gasped and rose up on the forward edges of their shoes.
They ended with Ohio State’s alma mater, “Carmen Ohio.” As it concluded I bent down to retrieve my bag from its resting place again the Stadium wall. And then I saw the man in the wheelchair.
The very act of sitting out the afternoon in the Stadium had left him sunken against the back of the seat, and yet he peered up at the source of the music, at Jason flinging his stick in the air and bringing it back down again. His hair was gone. So was control of his hands. I looked at him and I saw the final week of my father’s life—the eyes dulled by pain medication, the misery that the pain medication failed to wipe away, the bent neck, the oxygen tank. He would not live to see the football season promised here this afternoon. The tiny knot of family members gathered around him knew this. They sang very loudly. Their backs to him, the members of the band sculpted the final bars.
His wasted arms pushed against the edges of the chair as the last notes neared. I dropped my bag. The last word of “Carmen,” which is “Ohio,” is traditionally accompanied by the formation of the letters of the word with the upper body. He pushed against gravity, time, and common sense to form a defiant, definite, f-you death “O,” and he held it through end of the song—he hadn’t the strength to shape the remaining three letters. There was a bare crack of weak March daylight between his scarcely raised head and the sunken cup of his arms, but it was there, and as the final note sank into the Stadium concrete, his arms dropped again, his entire body crumpling into the soft plastic back of the wheelchair. It was done.
But Ohio State Marching and Athletic Band rehearsals and performances don’t end with “Carmen.” Jon Waters pulled Jason up beside him on the planter. “Now,” he said, “I think our Drum Major has something to say.”
Baton in hand, wrapped in his own raincoat, Jason tipped his chin back and arced two steady arms high over his head, the fingers of one anchoring the palm of the other, preparing to launch the most familiar, iconic cheer in Ohio State’s considerable arsenal.
“O-H!”
Next to me, the man in the wheelchair again braced his body, preparing to gather breath. The Drum Major had called; he would respond.
“I-O,” he said, the letters rasping from not his throat but the center of his chest, from almighty Midwestern pride and remembrance and the very last shards of his strength. Around him, his family formed the letters he no longer could.
“O-H!”
Again the terrible fight to expand his chest: “I-O!”
“O…H!”
Once more: “I-O!”
In one sharp lash, Jason swung his baton across his body.
“Ohio,” the man mouthed, whatever sound he may have made fully doused out by the full-throttle voices around him, and he closed his eyes for just a moment before opening them again, because at the Spring Game, you’re supposed to see new life.
UPDATE 10/24/11: Jason checks in with his own perspective-- we were a grand total of maybe twenty yards apart while he was performing, but he has an entirely different story to tell:
This game contained so many emotions and ups and downs. Ultimately ending in a big "Up". It was very close to tryouts, I had been practicing my routine for months, I had a clinic to plan, I had a Spring game show to learn, oh yeah and classes.
On this particular day my parents had driven down from Cleveland to watch me perform. So the show being cancelled did not exactly add to my anything but stress free mind set. The following events described above changed everything. It may have been the best thing that could have happened to me before tryouts.
I remember the sound of the band just blasting off the walls of the stadium. THEY SOUNDED AMAZING! I had to perform! I went off to the side of the band and a large circle of people formed around me. I felt like a break dancer. But it was one of the most enjoyable performances ever.
No matter where I turned there was an audience member cheering, clapping, or a look of awe on a child's face. I was thinking to myself, "this is why I love what I do and why I love this band". The informality of this "concert" was one of the most rewarding experiences I ever had.
And I knew the people watching wanted nothing more than to watch the band all day. They may have appreciated our make shift performance but they have no idea how much I appreciated sharing an up close moment with them. After all, its not whats done on the field that you remember its the relationships made off the field.
There were so many questions and gray areas regarding the season at this point. But at the end of that day I was reassured that there was no greater place for me to be.
-Jason
Reader Comments (51)
I can't finish this post.
I keep crying.
...wow.
I think I understand the whole Ohio State thing a little better now... no make that a lot better....
Oh wow. Just. wow.
I... just....
(shaking head)
No words for this one. Think I'll let the tears in my eyes say it.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID HERE, Miss Belle, and it is AMAZING.
Contrasting Jason the Ridiculously Awesome Drum Major trying to get higher/stronger/faster to defend his title with this guy throwing everything he has into doing the most basic cheer is some of the most inspired writing I have seen from you.
AMAZING.
I do not like Ohio State.
And I am crying.
You. Are. This. Band's. Poet. Laureate.
Having read and enjoyed "Drink to the Lasses," MB, I have to say that now your writing has reached a completely different, even more incredible place. I have nothing to do with OSU and this was very, very moving.
"Their backs to him, the members of the band sculpted the final bars."
This is what jumped out at me. They were doing something that had so much meaning and none of them even had any idea.
I'm awfully glad you're telling them, and us, Miss Tink.
Reading this back to back with the post about your comic misadventures with S Row really shows off your range, Mary Beth. You can turn from light and funny to serious and meaningful on a dime and most writers can't do EITHER very well!
Well, now, Miss Belle...
You mentioned in the last live chat that you wondered if you were going insane by chucking just about everything in your life to follow TBDBITL and make this book happen.
May I say... you are not crazy.
If Alex Who Talks Real Pretty or Our Jason or any of our D Row/S Row/OSUMB friends or alums are out there I'd sure like to hear from them on this one, because I felt pride for Ohio State after reading this and I never even went to college and live in Minnesota, I can't even imagine how something like this made them feel.
If Alex Who Talks Real Pretty or Our Jason or any of our D Row/S Row/OSUMB friends or alums are out there I'd sure like to hear from them on this one,
agreed
"Contrasting Jason the Ridiculously Awesome Drum Major trying to get higher/stronger/faster to defend his title with this guy throwing everything he has into doing the most basic cheer"
yes, THIS. I wish I got to read you in my lit classes MB!
I love you
:) Back atcha
Just mindblowing. Thank you Jason The Young, thank you SecDef Waters, thank you band and thank you MB.
You. Are. This. Band's. Poet. Laureate.
+ infinity
This is beautiful.
A tour de force-- Our Jason at his best, and MB too.
Everybody who loves music, or life, or moving moments should read this post. It's about so much more than Ohio State.
Great to see that SecDef Waters found a way for the band to perform anyway. What a moment.
"Jason tipped his chin back and arced two steady arms high over his head, the fingers of one anchoring the palm of the other"
This is where the contrast really comes down. Very nicely drawn, MB.
The whole Band and Jason The Ridiculously Awesome should be incredibly proud of what they do.
Having read and enjoyed "Drink to the Lasses," MB, I have to say that now your writing has reached a completely different, even more incredible place
It really has been a quantum leap.
we demand Our Leader!
This game contained so many emotions and ups and downs. Ultimately ending in a big "Up". It was very close to tryouts, I had been practicing my routine for months, I had a clinic to plan, I had a Spring game show to learn, oh yeah and classes. On this particular day my parents had driven down from Cleveland to watch me perform. So the show being cancelled did not exactly add to my anything but stress free mind set. The following events described above changed everything. It may have been the best thing that could have happened to me before tryouts. I remember the sound of the band just blasting off the walls of the stadium. THEY SOUNDED AMAZING! I had to perform! I went off to the side of the band and a large circle of people formed around me. I felt like a break dancer. But it was one of the most enjoyable performances ever. No matter where I turned there was an audience member cheering, clapping, or a look of awe on a child's face. I was thinking to myself, "this is why I love what I do and why I love this band". The informality of this "concert" was one of the most rewarding experiences I ever had. And I knew the people watching wanted nothing more than to watch the band all day. They may have appreciated our make shift performance but they have no idea how much I appreciated sharing an up close moment with them. After all, its not whats done on the field that you remember its the relationships made off the field. There were so many questions and gray areas regarding the season at this point. But at the end of that day I was reassured that there was no greater place for me to be.
Jason
(kicks everybody else awake)
....Jason's here.
That is what music is all about!
Oh Jason, what an honor to have you here, and what a well-told story! It's so wonderful to hear what was going on with you at the same time MB was in a different part of the crowd! Terrific job and I am so glad this was a good day for you overall.
....Jason's here.
Crap. I'm gonna fail uniform inspection.
I mean... great to see you Jason The Ridiculously Awesome One!
Thanks so much for taking the time to give us your side of it, Jason. Terrific addition to Miss Belle's post.
AWESOME, Mr. Drum Major!
OHIO!
I had to perform!
This says it all right here if you ask me.
Glad to see you here in the Tasting Room, Young One.
Seems like it's not just Mary Beth who's inspired by Our Jason.
Seems like it goes both ways.
That was so great to read, Jason.
I felt like a break dancer.
OK, who's going to be the first to set up on a Columbus street corner with a big piece of cardboard, the Band, and a camcorder?
It's Monday morning. Week. Already. Made.
It's so interesting how Jason and MB were in the same place at the same time but having totally different experiences... Thanks for sharing your side of it, Jason!
I <3 this blog :)
Mr. Stuckert,
What an honor it is to have you representing THE Ohio State University. You express yourself so well on the field as well as here on the site. I am extremely proud that you are our Drum Major. You will be a tough, if not impossible, act to follow.
Hello Jason! We'll get you any brand of near-beer, carbonated grape juice, or Shirley Temple you want :) So great to hear your story.
Man I wish I could have seen this!
Damn...
this had better make it in the final draft of the book!
This title was very prescient on the part of Miss Tink. Turns out for his part, Our Jason had something to say in that unloading zone as well as here on Blonde Champagne.
We're so glad you did!
I never thought at the start of this season that I would be EVEN MORE proud to be a Buckeye. Thank you MB/Jason/Band/Alums.
It's cool how the music even sounded different to Jason The Ridiculously Awesome. Mary Beth mentioned backing right up against the wall of the stadium so she probably didn't get that "bounceback" effect that he did standing even a short distance away.
So moving, and great to hear from Jason that Mary Beth did indeed faithfully report that something very special was going on that day.
No matter where I turned there was an audience member cheering, clapping, or a look of awe on a child's face.
Well would you look at our Twirling Overlord showing up the hostess!
You are such an awesome team, Jason and MB. I LOVED reading this!!!!!
It's cool how the music even sounded different to Jason The Ridiculously Awesome. Mary Beth mentioned backing right up against the wall of the stadium so she probably didn't get that "bounceback" effect that he did standing even a short distance away.
Good point. Both in the same place having an emotional moment, but of different types depending on who they were and where they were.