By Jenn Sterger

"God, I miss this," I told Drew. "I miss the sound, I miss the laughs, but most of all, I missed the feeling I got when I took the field with my 'other' family. But one thing I certainly do not miss is this heat."

Jenn befriends a drummer from the Chiefs with an impressive mohawk. Photo Courtesy of The Marching Chiefs

The Chiefs spend a minimum of 10 hours per week on the practice field in the intense Florida sun, and that doesn't include gamedays. Whereas most schools only perform one to two different shows per year, the Chiefs put together a different show each home game. Given this years grueling eight home-game schedule (including four back-to-back in November), they have their work cut out for them. Continuity Practice on Saturday -- as their gameday morning ritual is referred to -- begins around 8-9 a.m., depending on kickoff. I should also mention that while a lot of other schools "bribe" their students with scholarship money or even credit hours, Florida State's kids simply do it ... well, "for the love of the game." In fact, as it turns out, only 20 percent of the band actually is comprised of music majors, so most students are completing their chem labs and business homework in addition to their practice schedules.

A quick history lesson. The Chiefs originated the school's now infamous war chant. In the 1960's the band chanted the melody of the song Massacre at the football games. Twenty years later, in a game versus Auburn, some brilliant (albeit, most likely drunk) student decided the song needed choreography, adding the song's patented tomahawk chop motion.

By '86, the band had added music to the chant, and it spread quickly throughout the stadium. And the rest was history. The chant was later adopted by the Atlanta Braves and Washington Redskins, but the cheer's true origins lie with the Chiefs. I guess it's true what they say, "Often Imitated, never duplicated." In '91, after becoming the first NCAA marching band to record an album, the Chiefs were configured into the renovation plans of Doak Campbell Stadium, and  were given their own customized section of the end zone and a "garage door" entrance that allowed the band to stream out from below the stadium. Last year, the band received the FSU Football and Bobby Bowden Appreciation Award, which is handed out by the football team as a thank you to the Chiefs for their contribution to the football program. Bowden thinks so much of them that he also makes it a point to throw his hat to the band's section after each road victory.

In recent years, marching bands haven't been getting nearly the credit they deserve for the elements and contributions they make to the gameday atmosphere. Marching bands were the pioneers of the halftime show, yet now get little to no television love as they are being pushed out for whatever is the latest and greatest thing to roll of the Hollywood assembly line. Watching the 2005 Orange Bowl was painful enough for Sooner fans without having to witness Ashlee Simpson's ear-bleeding halftime performance. She may not have been lip-syncing, but I am pretty confident most of us wished she were. The NCAA is rich with musical talent, like Alabama's "Million Dollar Band," Purdue's "world's largest bass drum," the Notre Dame "Not-So-Overrated" Marching Band and, of course, the Chiefs (who boast one of the largest bands in NCAA with 405 members). So why not showcase it? Not only are they an American tradition, but they are a helluva lot less expensive than those B-list celebs who think moving their lips to the words qualifies as talent.

The Marching Chiefs use their "garage-door" entrance to take the field at a recent Seminoles game. Photo Courtesy of The Marching Chiefs

The Chiefs Oct. 21 performance for the game against Boston College will prove to many that not only are they the playing powerhouse I remember from my band camp days, but their singing skills are definitely a few notches above Ms. Simpson's.

So I say bring back the bands that made halftime worth staying in your seats. No doubt, the Chiefs have made quite a few game days in Tallahassee more bearable for Seminoles fans this season. Even on gamedays where things don't turn up "Rose Bowls" for the Seminoles football team, the band can be found in their designated end zone. Following their Hymn to the Garnet and Gold, there are the echoes of what has become the band's motto:

Marching Chiefs one time,
Marching Chiefs two times,
Marching Chiefs three times,
Marching Chiefs... All the damn time!

Because, as Sports Illustrated said in 1974, "Florida State occasionally may lose a football game, but never a halftime show."