When I was in high school, the marching band members were almost all in the academic program geared towards college prep. The football team was mostly comprised of guys in the commercial or general programs. Most of them ended up in blue collar jobs with a kid or two before they turned 23 or were drafted. I played on the varsity team as a sophomore in the fall of 1962 but my father pulled me off the team in order to help him build a fallout shelter in our early 1700’s stone springhouse. Our farm was about 25 miles due west from center city Philadelphia which was assumed to be one of the Russian nuke targets. After that season, I played in the marching band until I graduated. Funny thing: I went to our class 50th reunion two years ago and the girls who were there who played in the band were the smartest in my class (only 105), all were National Honor Society, and they looked to be the best preserved women. In my junior year, just about all my classmates favored Barry Goldwater enthusiastically.
I went to high school in the 1980s. The band people drank, smoked pot, and screwed.