By: Sandra Vo, Staff Writer
A luscious expanse of fresh turf spans the area behind Clarke Hall, its greenery a welcome hue after Colorado’s bleak winter. I stare in awe at my phone screen from my position in the music practice room as the Regis University Instagram showcases the newly finished turf fields with a high quality drone video. It’s furnished with more than brightly painted lines, but also with the vigor of youth, the promise of thrilling sporting events, and the passion of college athletes sweeping the fields.
The new turf is the result of a generous amount of funding and donations, a move on Regis’s behalf to demonstrate their love for their student athletes. I witness this stunning display of love from where I am sitting on the ratty piano bench, whose legs have been stripped of their wood varnish and whose seat is draped in a cloth so tattered that it literally hangs onto the bench by mere threads.
It is good to know that Regis invests so much money into student activities. I furiously wave my music folder back and forth to fan myself, since the practice room is so sweltering that there are remnants of sweat on the piano from whoever had played it last. But surely, this is not because of a problem with the ventilation or air conditioning in the music wing, but because of how fiery hot our enthusiasm for the new turf fields is. Just imagining the future glory that will be made by the Regis lacrosse teams on those fields increases the practice room temperature by fifteen degrees.
Many people in the music program have asked what is the difference between the new fields and the old ones. We have all reached the mind-blowing conclusion that the grass is greener. This is, understandably, a must for athletes, since no sporting event is a real sporting event if the grass is an unsatisfactory shade of green.
I decide that such a breathtaking turf field deserves a beautiful serenade. My fingers align themselves on the sticky, ramen-stained piano keys, and although my fingers are in the correct position, the chord I play is discordant and cacophonous.
The practice room’s piano is out of tune. But I accept that as a necessary sacrifice, so that the turf field’s grass is greener (even if the piano seat is shabbier).