I am primarily a baritone player. I played baritone and euphonium all through middle school, high school, and at LSU. But here is a story all about how that life got flipped, turned upside down. I arrived at preseason camp with my jean shorts (another story), T shirt, and ready for anything on the Sunday the new members arrive. Throughout the practicing and learning I realized one thing: Holding this heavy-ass horn up is freaking hard.
Hold up, you may say, didn't you play baritone in high school too? Let me back up a bit. I was in a military-style marching band: the illustrious Kingwood High School Military Rules Band. In such a band, the baritones are not what you may think. They are held upright, against your body, with the bell curved forward (kind of like a smaller euphonium). In other words, they are very easy to carry.
Fast forward back to LSU preseason week, and needless to say, I'm struggling learning the Corps style of marching (also a change for me) along with holding this heavy horn with steady arms that I haven't worked out in a while. Most of the baritones were pretty fit. I wasn't. They were a pretty cool bunch, and eager to give tips, help, and I thought I was figuring it out really well.
Then came Thursday, the infamous Cut Night. The night where you get to party like an LSU bandsman at least once, even if you don't make the cut. And party I ... well... tried. It definitely wasn't something I was used to. I didn't know anyone, I tried to socialize, but ended up watching people play pool until I got tired and left. And to top it all off, I go on the band's website when the final list is posted, and notice, my name is not on the list. After checking about 20 times to make sure, I went to bed, depressed.
Friday morning, I wake up feeling down, to say the least. But I'm fast about processing emotions, and by lunchtime I was accepting the fact that I could focus on my studies and try again next year. Eating some Chick Fil A outside of the Student Union building, I get a call from Roy King, the then Associate Director of Tiger Band, saying "Hey Alex, how are you. Listen, I have a spot for you in the Tuba section, what do you say?" I paused to think, for maybe 2 seconds. "Yes, I'm in!" I said, with confidence, despite never having played a tuba in my life before. It turned out later that the tuba section has many more spots
(28 that year, 36 at the most) available than the baritone section (as low as 12)
Throwing my lunch in the trash I pondered "how the hell am I going to make this work?, I guess I should just wing it". I grabbed my bike and rode to the band hall to get my tuba. I put it on, the heaviest thing I've ever worn (and I've worn 35 lb backpacks at Philmont) with all 50 lbs on my left shoulder. Again, "how the hell am I going to make this work?". I show up at practice in the school of music, put my lips to the mouthpiece, and start playing 1 octave below what I'm used to, with notes below the bass clef staff that I've never played before. I do my best to keep up, noticing that I'm not the only one. My confidence was significantly restored after I discovered 2 other members that were 'ported' over to the tuba section after getting cut. One from the trombones, and another from the baritone section itself again.
The members of the tuba section, whether new or old, would become lifelong friends. We always had a welcoming atmosphere, because we knew that nobody ever got cut from the tuba section. We are, after all,
Source: Youtube "Earthquake featuring the LSU Drumline and Tuba section!"
