book so I knew it must be important. The next week I played it in my lesson. He came down hard on me
for failure to subdivide the triplets juxtaposed with quadruplets. What a great book the Bona was for
learning to sight read. I read it in treble clef because the trombone version was not yet available. After
two years away, I brought in the Bona book at my first lesson back. I had practiced the entire book. Part
way through one selection Mr. Jacobs closed the book. “We don’t need to work on these, Dick.” We
never opened the book again in a lesson. He saw that the lesson had been taught and learned. It was a
great lesson in sight reading preparedness.
I got called to play the off-stage band part in the Verdi opera Othello when the Metropolitan Opera was
in Cleveland. The part was not in the excerpt books. The few scores had all been checked out of every
library in the area. There was no rehearsal. An hour before the gig I went to Public Auditorium where
the Met played but no one was in place. So I waited. A half hour before the performance I approached
the librarian and was told, “You don’t play ‘till the second act. I don’t have time to worry about your part
now.” I didn’t get the part until half way into the first act. It was an ophicleide part, as I recall in C#
minor, arppegiated above the staff. Although it was quite playable, it was one that I would have
preferred to have practiced. I went into the men’s room and buzzed it through on the mouthpiece. I ran
into Mel Broiles, the principal trumpet. (It was his turn to play in the off-stage band.) I asked if there was
anything I should know about the performance. He said it was going to be the loudest f&^%$%$ band I’d
ever played in. That was the rehearsal. Standing with my big York on a dark stage with one light over the
entire band it went well. No Mulligans. Jake had prepared me well.
Golfer John Daly burst into the PGA limelight with an impressive win at Crooked Stick Golf Course in
1991. Daly was the ninth alternate and had packed his car late Wednesday afternoon when he had
moved up to fourth alternate. He headed for Indianapolis from Arkansas and got to his hotel room at
midnight. Without a practice round, Daly found a way to control his enormous drives, putted like a
dream, shot 69-67-69-71 for a 276 and a three-shot win in his first ever PGA Championship. Talk about
no Mulligans; he didn’t even have a practice round. As Jake said, “You shouldn’t rely on a particular
routine. You never know when you will be stuck at a railroad crossing and have to go on cold.”
I am not suggesting practice is a waste of time. To the contrary, it is exceeding necessary. Scales,
arpeggios, the Bona book. There is a point, however, when it is done for it’s own sake without a purpose
that it can be deconstructive. Harry Herforth used to say “Practice does not make perfect. Practice
makes habits.” The same is true on the driving range. Bad golfers hit balls. Good golfers imagine
themselves on the course and pick targets and create challenges.
Neither am I suggesting that warming up does not have its advantages. I do suggest it should not be
relied on for golf or music. I further suggest that a good warm up for either should never be a crash
course or cramming for an exam. A useful goal for warming up should be to recreate the feel, both
mentally and physically of a positive and confident performance. Knowing that the warm up is not a
requirement for good performance frees the performer from panicking due to lack of time or immediate
success in the practice room or on the practice tee.
“What I’m doing now is showing off.” Said Mr. Jacobs as he was ‘warming up’ before a master class. He
had told me once never to practice on stage. “You never know who might be listening. The conductor