That was easily my favorite football game of all time.
Despite not being able to perform post game on band day.
Despite being drenched to the skin in a uniform that absorbs rainwater like a blue and yellow and white sponge.
It was the way we teetered precariously on the rain slick bleachers, shoulder to shoulder for warmth, playing first down and fight song and Delaware forever and stand tunes until our instruments regurgitated steady streams of water.
The way we yelled and danced as even the most steadfast fans descended from the stands to the warmth and predictability of their cars and homes.
We begged for In my Life. Chanted for it. Eagerly waited to begin our relationship with concert C. We thought no one was watching. We thought we were playing only for us, and what’s beautiful is that it would have been enough. Playing our own love song to ourselves.
But we were, in fact, still performing. A small gathering of fans from the game huddled under the concourse, safe from the rain at last. They watched the whole thing. They heard every note, every round of laughter, saw every smile from afar.
Something about the way we loved what we did, holding on to each other in the sheets of rain, living every moment of our own insanity…something about In my Life tonight made them watch.
Do you remember…the 21st night of September…..