A hush falls over the crowd.
The murmurs dwindle away.
There they are, stately standing
In their unique, confident way.

Anticipation has peaked
It's the lull before the storm.
Somehow one gets the feeling
A hurricane is being born.

Then, it begins in a flurry
Of marching feet and clinched fists.
The crowd draws a hurried breath
Each one glued to where he sits.

Yes, yes, Adair has arrived,
They are now taking the field.
Each soldier practiced and proud
Stands on legs of twisted steel.

Thunder rolls and rolls from drums
As they move from place to place.
Saxophones and clarinets
Bring melodies before my face.

Intensity grows with every step.
Trumpets blare and tubas blow.
Every bone and every muscle
Exploding into crescendo!

Then silence leaps from the field
As gliding feet continue to move.
Now they blast to the finish
As only great bands can do.

The audience begins to breathe
For now they're finished, they're done.
Everyone knows deep inside
This band is still number one.

The judges at each other look,
They stare with admiration.
Adair might be, could be-
The best band in the nation.

Billy Joe Fudge