Junior year of high school was my first year as drum line captain, and my second year of being a drummer in the Jazz Band. Jazz Band was an entirely different realm for me. I had to go from being a straight laced mechanical drummer to a laid back, loose and spontaneous drummer, or at least I was supposed to. I was never really able to make that transition, and because of this I was never really comfortable on the drum set.

I was at a basketball game doing what I usually do before half time— reading and not giving a care in the world about what was going on around me. I expected nothing different from this basketball game. I would lean on the congas and read my book until halftime. When the buzzer rang my fellow drummer would play the fight song, and we’d play our halftime set. When we were done I would read for the rest of the game, pack up and leave.

Unfortunately, plans can change.

A few minutes before halftime, my band director had a brilliant idea. He wanted me to play the fight song. This really should have been no problem. As the drum line captain it was my job to start off the fight song for everything. However, the way the fight song is played on the set is slightly different, and I had never played it on the set before. I had seen it done many times though, so despite how nervous I was I decided it was no large task.

I hopped on the set a good minute and a half before the buzzer, and air practiced with my sticks. I really shouldn’t have had to even think about it, but being as it was my first time in this setting I didn’t want to take any chances. I continued to go over it in my head a hundred times as I watched the clock. I had my sticks ready to go. My heart was pumping faster and faster as the few seconds ticked down to zero.

The buzzer rang.

The same year I had learned about something called an adrenaline dump in my Biology II class. This is basically when your body creates too much adrenaline, thus rendering you useless. This is exactly what happened to me. My sticks made contact with the drum, but the sound I produced was not the beginning of the fight song, but instead some kind of buzz triplet (a three note beat). The band did a kind of start which tumbled and died in confusion. I tried to start again, but did the same thing only angrier. I knew how to play it, but I just could not make my hands do it. Embarrassed and ashamed, I stood up and shoved my sticks at the other drummer who quickly started up the fight song as I took my position back at the congas.

I could not believe I had messed up the song I play almost every day, and the entire gym heard it. Thankfully my director wasn’t mad. In fact, he was quite understanding which I am grateful for, but I have never forgotten the incident. Hopefully nothing like that will ever happen again, and it will remain my most embarrassing moment.