So what is it like at drill? Many Aggies probably don't even know. Most even. Except for the several hundred that are in the band that is. And now you get an exclusive peak at what drill was like through the eyes of fish Hay. It was fun. Drill was a refuge. And out there, it mattered how smart you were. Sophomores and Seniors DO make mistakes, and we saw 'em. We couldn't laugh at them or acknowledge that we had seen an error, but we could see 'em happen. And that was enough to reassure us that the upperclassmen were as human as us. Just with more power. My favorite motivational cries at drill included "I'm SOOOOO ANNOYINGGGGG!!!!!!" (uttered by the drum corporal), "Megafrick!" (a cry by the drum majors for the alternate holding the megaphone on the sideline), and "What happens when it rains freshman??" (normally asked when it starts to pour down in sheets on the drill field - the freshman answer "The Aggie Band gets wet, Sir!"). Anyway, as a freshman, I was placed against the left side of the band. Next to Ray Hernandez and Dan Nicholas. They were competitive seniors. I was in front of John Scroggins, and beside Brian Hervy, a junior and sophomore respectively. Mr. Martinez was my bugle rank leader in the front of the column. Every afternoon we would go out from 4:30 to 6:00 PM and drill for Saturday's performance. And their was nothing like it. Friday and Saturday we would have early morning drill on Kyle Field. At drill, life was fun. Focused like you would not believe. But fun nonetheless. Especially after that first game. Marching out in front of the 75,000. Nothing like it....

Back to the two most interesting people around me. Dan Nicholas and Ray Hernandez. They were good friends who constantly insulted each other. And their vehicle for insults was, you guessed it, fish Hay. We'd be waiting for the drum majors to coordinate the next maneuver, and Mr. Nicholas would turn and say, "fish Hay, tell Mr. Hernandez he is a big slouch". I would turn and yell, "Mr. Hernandez, Sir! You are a big slouch, Sir!". So Mr. Hernandez would come up with one that would cut down Mr. Nicholas. And back and forth they would go, until Mr. Nicholas, who was insult king, would come up with one that would cause everyone to go "ooooouch..." from the realization that Mr. Hernandez couldn't come back from that insult. At that point, Ray would cheat. You see, Dan Nicholas chewed tobacco. And that was not allowed at drill. So Ray would say, "fish Hay, ask Mr. Nicholas for a dip". Well, Mr. Nicholas knew that if Troy Yokom heard me ask him for a dip, he would be written up, so he would look at me and say, "Don't do it, Hay!". And then Mr. Hernandez would command, "You better do it Hay!". What a crummy situation that always was. Two all powerful seniors commanding you to do opposite things simultaneously. So I would do it about half and half. Whomever looked like they were more serious would be the one I'd obey. Anyway, The band had several sections. The sousaphone players were called the "basses". Then there was the drums, the trombones and baritones, the french horns, the trumpets, and the "reed-suckers" (our name for all woodwinds). Dan would harass all sections by calling them names they hated every time we returned to the North endzone. "Ground Tubas! Ground Bongos! Pocket Piccolos!" he would cry. Those names were anathema to those sections (with the exception of the piccolos). The basses didn't go by the name tuba for a number of reasons. And drums just hated the name "bongo". Fear not, Mr. Nicholas paid for his insultive ways. But that is another story...