Ask a band parent what they do on a Friday night and they will not say "watch." They haul the pit. Every wagon of mallet percussion, every water jug, every cooler, every canopy: someone rolls it onto the field before the show and rolls it off after, in whatever weather August decides to hand out. That someone has a name inside the band world, and it is not "volunteer." It is PIT CREW.
This is that job, set like a 1960s halftime programme. PIT CREW oversized as the headline, MARCHING BAND BOOSTER above it so the joke lands only for the people who get it, and the honest three-word spec line underneath, WATER · WAGON · WEATHER, in the order it actually happens. A folding wagon and a water jug at the centre, a rule of drill dots beneath. No instruments. No school name. Just the parent's kit, recorded with the seriousness the job earns.
For your own season uniform, built for a 6am band-camp call time, or for a whole booster corps ordering together. It says what everyone in the stands already knows about you.
Water. Wagon. Weather. See you at finals.
