It’s football season, have you heard? I’m stating this fact for the musicians who are reading this blog. The rest of America is well aware that the High Holy Days of Sports are upon us; however for many of us in the classical music world, our first thought is “Football? Do you mean the soccer kind or the grunting, shoving, wearing tight pants kind?” (Naturally the wind and brass instruments are excluded from this train of thought, as many of them are former band geeks who either fully embrace the sports mentality, or who have joined self-help groups in order to stop quivering and hiding under the nearest piece of heavy furniture during this time of year.)

Why should classically trained musicians care about a sport that few of us have ever actually played? Because football teams still have thousands of people filling their stadiums every single weekend. (Though I did read a few news articles claiming that football game attendance is down. Depending on the study, it’s down anywhere from 3% to 34%. This makes me question their math skills, but we are dealing with sports people, so I’m just going to let it go.)

In any case, I think that musicians and concert marketing executives should sit up and take notice during football season. If we made symphony concerts more like football games, we might begin to increase our attendance to the level of the NFL. Or, if we REALLY do it right, to the level of a high school football game in Texas on a Friday night. 

I’ve put together a handy list of 4 suggestions for orchestra executives throughout the country, just in case Mahler and Beethoven aren’t doing it for ticket sales. 

1. Names:  The New York Philharmonic. The Colorado Symphony. The Philadelphia Orchestra. These names are accurate but hardly compelling. Would football fans be proud to say that they love the Seattle Football Team? The New England Sports Association? The Football Organization of Pittsburg? Absolutely not! So why don’t orchestras name their groups things that will inspire pride or perhaps an association with woodland creatures? You could have the Beethoven Bears or the Haydn Hawkeyes.  Or music terminology could factor into the name; like the Cleveland Crescendos, the Philadelphia Prestos, or the Minneapolis Maestoso. However, some terms are best avoided: the Pittsburg Pianissimos probably aren’t going earn a large following for a variety of reasons. 

2. Merchandising: All orchestras need team colors. Football teams choose bold colors to represent their masculinity, charisma, and fashion sense. (This explains a lot: I’m looking at you, Texas A&M.) The orchestra members will need numbered jerseys and full uniforms to make it look legit. (Though with those tight nylon pants, it’s probably better that the entire brass section gets to stay seated during concerts.) Obviously, the concertmaster will have the #1 jersey. All of the other players can then choose their numbers based on preference, leading to the inevitable conversation:

Principal Oboe; “Dude, you can’t be 1685, I’m 1685 for Handel’s birth year!”

Section Violinist; “Dude, forget Handel. I want 1685 for BACH’S birth year, he’s WAY more important!”

Per-Hire Pianist; “But guys, I wanted 1685 for Scarlatti’s birth year!”

Principal Oboe and Section Violinist; “Who?”

Audience members can also wear the jerseys of their favorite players to the concerts. “Yes, I’m supporting #84; Joe ‘Beast Mode’ Giachinno, the Assistant Principle Cello. His vibrato is vastly superior to the assistant principle cello of the San Francisco Szforzandos!”

3. Tailgating: There are those who consider tailgating the most important part of the game. The concert audience can assemble 4-8 hours before the downbeat; their trucks laden with BBQ smokers, industrial size grills, and kegs of beer. This formula might have to be tailored to fit the average New York or California concert goer; the truck will be replaced with a tiny hybrid, the grill will be smoking with balsamic-glazed portobello mushrooms, and the kegs will be full of kombucha. But it’s really just about promoting team spirit and camaraderie, right? 

4. Audience Participation: Let’s not forget that at football games, many attendees feel the deep-seated need to verbally assist the coach from the stands. Can you imagine, if during a performance of Tchaikovsky’s 5th Symphony, the audience members were free to shout things at the conductor like “You call THAT an accelerando? I’ll give YOU an accelerando if you don’t get your backside moving, ya friggin’ idiot!” Or perhaps they could give encouragement to various orchestral sections when they needed it: “THAT’S right horns!!! Rip it! Oh geez, VIOLAS! You had ONE job!!!! Uh-huh, keep it moving, keep it moving basses! Don’t let those trombones run all over you!

Concerts will be transformed into spaces where the audience spontaneously breaks into The Wave during particularly boring sections of Bruckner’s 7th Symphony (oh just admit it, you’ve thought of doing the same thing during this symphony.) Candy, hot dogs, and nachos coated with radioactive plasticine yellow cheese product will be sold at the concession stand in the lobby, which should be open during the entire performance in case someone gets an attack of the Third Movement Munchies. During the quiet, slow parts, cheerleaders will energize the hall with rousing chants of: 

Firecracker, Firecracker Boom Boom Boom!

Firecracker, Firecracker Boom Boom Boom!

The brass got the muscle, 

The flutes got the brains, 

The cellos got the pretty legs and

WE WON THE GAME

(Don’t judge, it’s difficult to find words that rhyme with concerto, okay?)

At the end of the concert, after a wildly successful performance, audience members will storm the stage. The percussion section will dump a large container of Gatorade over the head of the conductor. Those who have had a bit too much to drink will attempt to scale the stage-light scaffolding, while others randomly break into off-pitch renditions of “Ode to Joy” from Beethoven’s 9th. The celebration will continue out into the street and at nearby bars long into the night. On Monday morning, water-coolers throughout the city will be abuzz with chatter, as people analyze the bassoon solo via slow-motion replay and form Fantasy Philharmonic leagues. TV networks will push aside programming like the nightly news in order to broadcast live-streams of concerts. Professional announcers will be hired and John Williams will write a catchy theme song requiring 14 trumpets and gong.  

You know, I might just splurge on season tickets to all of THAT! But only if I get box seats near the percussion section. They will look great in those tight pants.