Brian Coffill

Listed on the cover as a two-step march, a very popular march style following the publication of Sousa’s Washington Post March in 1889,[30] Cubs on Parade follows basic march form as it musically describes events from an unnamed baseball game, featuring the aforementioned series of textual interjections written on the piano and percussion parts. Four, eight, and sixteen-bar phrases abound, and the three major melodies appear in to their typical march locations. Additionally, like most marches, the trio section adds a flat, modulating to the key of the subdominant, and adds a bell part to enhance the reduced winds.

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By investigating the supplementary baseball play-by-play (see Cubs on Parade parts - one need only scan the piano part beginning on page 2 to follow along), one can surmise that the unnamed game described is an inning with the Chicago Cubs at bat. Written for the hometown Chicago fans, it would seem odd for the celebrations late in the march to occur for a visiting team, or for the events to occur in a foreign stadium. After the introductory fanfare, the extra-musical narration signifies an umpire yelling “Play Ball,” and the musical Cubs immediately take their place at the bat. This is problematic, as modern baseball fans are used to the home team, by rule, batting second. However, there are two potential solutions to this conundrum that would still allow the imaginary game within Cubs on Parade to take place at Chicago’s West Side Park, the precursor to Wrigley Field. The first, and perhaps simplest solution, is that the composer did not understand the game of baseball, or even ignored common practice, and simply placed the Cubs at bat first in his musical imagination. There is, in fact, historical precedent for this theory: the authors of 1908’s hit, Take Me Out to the Ballgame, Albert von Tilzer and Jack Norworth, claimed that they had never attended a baseball game prior to penning what would become an iconic American melody.[31] The second solution, however, is located in Major League Baseball’s rulebook. Rule 4.02 currently states,

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The players of the home team shall take their defensive positions, the first batter of the visiting team shall take his position in the batter’s box, the umpire shall call “Play” and the game shall start.[32]

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However, prior to 1950, it was the home team’s option whether to bat first or second, a statutory wrinkle that might seem odd to the modern fan.[33] This once carried strategic importance, owing to the limited number of baseballs that were used in play in the early years of the game. Unlike today’s game, where a single nick or smudge on a ball will see it removed from gameplay, and dozens of baseballs are used over the course of one game, let alone some single innings, an umpire once reused the same ball for as long as possible. By the second or third inning of use, after the ball had been hit, smashed into the dirt, altered by the pitchers, and potentially scuffed, soaked, smeared, or otherwise doctored, the ball would barely resemble its first incarnation as a pristine, white orb. Many home teams, such as the famously creative 1890s Baltimore Orioles,[34] would often choose to have the first at-bats against a clean ball, rather than bat second against a used one.[35] This may have still occurred often enough in the early years of twentieth century baseball for Hempel to find it commonplace, therefore avoiding any unnecessary issue with his imaginary batting order.

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The march begins in the key of C major (B-flat major)[36] with a four-measure introduction that tonicizes the dominant of the given key signature. Fortissimo, tutti eighth notes on beats one and the and of beat two initiate the action across the entire ensemble, separated by the first example of an oft-used neighbor note motive in the melodic parts. The last two bars of the introduction are punctuated by three gong strikes, on beats one, two, and one of bars three and four, followed by a forzando bass drum hit on beat two. Both the percussion and piano parts read “Play Ball” in the next bar (see Figure 1). This seemingly odd use of a gong may refer to a contemporary practice in the early twentieth century game, wherein the umpire would strike a gong to signal the beginning of play. While this may seem strange to modern baseball fans, the practice was the norm at the time.[37] This may have served to alert the crowd to the start of play, but also may have harkened back to an even earlier rule of the game, which stated that runners, upon scoring, needed to check in at the umpire’s table, often then striking a gong, or the run would not count. Neither of these two practices still occurs in the major leagues today, although some anachronistic baseball societies do still play by “pre-modern” rules, incorporating these, and other early statues as they see fit.[38]

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The march continues into the first strain, changing to a tutti piano dynamic, incorporating a delicate melody in the upper voices and a lyrical countermelody in the tenor parts.[39] This first statement remains in the dominant G major (F major), then repeats in the tonic C major (B-flat major), giving a weak cadence and the first appearance of the tonic, in measure seven. These two-bar statements form an antecedent, four-bar phrase that is followed by its consequent phrase, moving from the dominant to the tonic, ending on a weak deceptive cadence that sets up a stronger answer later in the piece. Measures nine and eleven incorporate more of the extra-musical baseball narrative, stating “Ball One” and “Ball Two,” respectively, before the melodic material reprises. This initial iteration of the first strain ends with a building, crescendoing statement, accompanied by a “Hit” by the imaginary batter, who is “Safe on First” at the recapitulation of the first strain, in measure twenty-one.

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On the reiteration of the first strain, the ensemble returns at a stronger mezzo forte, and the countermelodic material in the low reeds and low brass takes the foreground, at a full forte. With a runner on first, and the material repeating, the new batter at the plate takes two straight balls, in the same corresponding musical places. However, when the music reaches the final phrase, it swells into a stronger perfect authentic cadence on the tonic, buoyed by the crowd cheering “Rah Rah Rah.”

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The second strain of Cubs on Parade enters at a dynamic of piano, in contrast to the first strain, but quickly crescendos to forte in a flourish of sixteenth notes. These energetic first two bars of the new material also abruptly modulate to G major (F major), outlining the new tonic with a cadence at the climax of the crescendo. The large, block chords outlined by the tutti ensemble recede, leaving the woodwind melody to whisper a gentle subito piano melody, featuring lilting sixteenth-note triplets. Conforming to the motivic, antecedent-consequent structure of the march form, this first eight-bar phrase ends in a weak deceptive cadence, preparing an immediate restatement of similar material, this time ending in an imperfect authentic cadence on the new tonic. The second iteration of the melodic material contains additional baseball play-by-play, including “Slide Slide Slide” on each accented downbeat of measures forty-five, forty-six, and forty-seven (see Figure 3), with the crescendo acting as surrogate for the crowd, imploring the runner on first to steal second base. Three bars later, as the melody plays an ascending chromatic motif that accents the dominant, the crowd shouts “Rah Rah,” soon followed by a stronger authentic cadence on the tonic, and the exclamation “Safe on Second.” The second strain repeats, taking the action through the same process again, with the speedy base runner stealing third on the hapless, napping pitcher.

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In the process of re-scoring the march, while comparing the musical instructions with the non-musical baseball text, a few contradictions came to light, and a few confusing musical instructions were clarified through the baseball text. Originally, the parts included a Del Signo al Fermata after the repeat of the second phrase, returning the musical action to measure twenty-one. From here, the recapitulation of the first strain played through until a fermata, which would serve as a pause before moving to the trio section. However, by following the baseball play-by-play, a number of game actions would be repeated, and some narrative holes would be encountered. Beginning with the recapitulation of the first strain, the baseball actions would play out as “Safe on First,” “Ball One,” “Ball Two,” “Rah Rah Rah,” “Two men on base.” With no mention of a hit or a hit batsman, the batter would not be able to take first base after merely two balls from the pitcher. Continuing on, the second strain as originally written, with repeats, has a runner sliding twice into third base.[40] Lastly, the first strain repeats again, with the exact same instructions.

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In order to reconcile this illogical narrative, as well as the slightly confusing musical instructions, the Del Signo al Fermata was removed, and the repeat of the first strain added, completely written out between the second and third strains. The supertext, “Two Men On Base,”[41] was struck from its original location, to return on the last iteration of the first strain. As noted earlier, the repeated second strain now marks the base runner stealing second, and then third, on the sleeping pitcher, events that could theoretically take place during the two balls thrown earlier. The newly reiterated first strain now includes “Ball Three” and “Ball Four,” in the place of the original balls one and two. (For further reference, see "Cubs on Parade Game Story and Box Score," below.) This second recapitulation of the first strain occurs verbatim, modulating back to its original key, and cadences on the tonic before giving way to the third strain.

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The trio section of Cubs on Parade, like the opening of the march, features a short, four-measure introduction that establishes the dominant of the new key, which, in this case, follows the typical rules of march style, adding a flat.[42] The tutti introduction, written at a strong forte, quickly diminuendos in the fourth bar, opening the scoring for a delicate woodwind and glockenspiel interlude. This dainty melody, augmented by added light percussion and single tuba, occurs as the batter hits a “Foul Ball.” In the original parts, the next instructions make little sense, describing “Strike One” and “Strike Two,” an impossibility if this was all happening to the same theoretical batter.

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Again, in order to reconcile the extra-musical material, one needs to consider the possibilities within the baseball game. There is a strong possibility that the foul ball is a pop-up, caught by the catcher or another infielder, marking the first out of the inning. If so, that sets up dramatic tension for the rest of the inning, as the batter, now with two strikes, hits a ground ball and is thrown out at first. With base runners already on first and third, this would have to be a fielder’s choice, or the inning would have been over via double play. In our theoretical game, the presence of a runner at third base may have caused the infielders to play closer to the plate than usual, in a drawn-in formation, with the hopes of deterring the runner from attempting to score, or possibly throwing him out at home. With this reconfigured defense, the pitching team may have kept the runner on third, but without the luxury of a double play, the defense was not able to escape the inning. This play features one of the more interesting musical devices in the entire march, a unison, isolated forzando attack from the bass drum, snare drum, and cymbals, marking a literal bang-bang play at first, as the ball lands in the first baseman’s mitt (see Figure 4).

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At the outset of the break strain, the brass return to a strong fanfare, as the woodwinds fly up and down a chromaticized, slurred scalar passage, adding lower voices and crescendoing as the scale descends. Forte brass provide a foundation, again continuing an extended fanfare with repeated eighth-sixteenth-sixteenth rhythms, and the excitement of the crowd is palpable. “Get There Get There” yells the crowd, on the first phrase of the break strain, as the band outlines the mediant for the entire four-bar phrase; “Hurrah Hurrah” they scream on the first phrase’s four-bar recapitulation, sequentially modulated up a minor third, outlining the dominant. Finally, after a subito piano dynamic drop, the eighth-sixteenth-sixteenth fanfare motive repeats against chromatic descending eighth-note triplets, crescendoing to forte and further reinforcing the dominant. “Home Run Home Run” yells the crowd, as three runs score and the Cubs take the lead.

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Finally, as the ensemble reaches fortissimo, and the crowd’s excitement hits a fever pitch, the music begins the grandioso, an amplified repeat of the trio material, as the crowd cheers “Rah Rah Rah,” and the batters round the bases. The low woodwinds and brass present a repeat of the trio, while overhead, the flutes and clarinets present an animated obbligato that propels the music to its eventual climax, and a Cubs victory,[43] culminating in a strong perfect authentic cadence that closes the march with a rousing flourish, and a final return of the eighth-sixteenth-sixteenth motive.