OPINION: ‘Horn Section' bands together

Whatever it took, Betty Nagy was going to spend her final night of summertime baseball in the upper deck.

Though usually relegated to the concourse area at Appeal-Democrat Park due to her wheelchair, Nagy knew she belonged amongst the horn-blowing, bell-ringing and umpire-jeering up in the blue premium seats for the season finale.

Five of her friends made it happen.

They picked her up, wheelchair and all, and set her right in the middle of the Horn Section, the Marysville Gold Sox's contingent of raucous fans that inhabit the highest tier of the stadium.

Hauling Nagy to her seat was just a small favor. The Horn Section is its own family and when one member isn't around, it throws off the whole dynamic.

Everybody is on a first-name basis: Pat, Jimmy, Greg, Janet, Gary, Ric, Barbara, Phil, Amy and a bevy of other fanatics comprise the group. Altogether there's about 35 members.

The ringleader is William "Web" Weber.

A Colusa native and current Yuba City resident, Web is pegged by everybody around him as the "biggest Gold Sox fan there is."

He once sat through a rainstorm at the stadium. Clad in garbage bags and hoisting an umbrella, he was the only fan in the upper deck that night.

Besides introducing his fellows fans to horns and cowbells, he bought every Horn Section member a gold rally towel this year. The vast majority of Horn Section fans are senior citizens so Web and the others try to keep the waving to a minimum.

After swirling their towels on Sunday night to celebrate a Brock Neil homer, several members of the section complained of rotator cuff pain.

"Some of these people used to sit down in front until we started having lots of fun up here and they started hearing all the noise," Web said. "We want (the players) to know they have dedicated fans."

Sporting his gray Gold Sox T-shirt, Web is about as armed as any die-hard can be.

Around his neck is a duck call (which he "accidentally" used to lure a bird into the ballpark that eventually flew into the screen behind home plate). In one hand is his cowbell, the other a blow horn.

Also in his repertoire is a bicycle horn, mega phone, siren, whistle, tuba, vuvuzela and basically any other device known to man that can make a boisterous noise.

What started as a group of six fans supporting the Feather River Mudcats in 2000 has grown to eight people, then 10, and now is approaching 40.

Perched right below the press box is veteran section member Ted Howard. His slicked back gray hair, big smile and heckler style are staples of the Horn Section.

Like Web, he always has a noise-making device around his neck. His instrument of choice is an air blaster horn, which is a small, vial-shaped whistle.

The almost hour-long drive from Colusa doesn't deter him from making the trip to jaw at umpires, crack jokes with his buddies and create more noise than a garbage truck on Monday mornings.

He looked twice before revealing his secret weapon with his trademark mischievous grin — an air horn he labeled as "bigtime noise."

"The kids need to hear somebody's behind them," Howard said. "Everybody's just really nice up here and you know everybody. We gain another one or two every year."

These friendships don't just last for three months.

During the offseason, the Horn Section hosts potluck dinners, a Christmas party and various functions just so fans can stay in touch with each other.

Spending three innings in the heart of the Horn Section was comparable to spending an afternoon at a delicatessen.

Web's homemade beef jerky, Howard's cookies, some trail mix, a bag of licorice, were all in constant rotation across 10 rows of seats on Sunday.

Dennis Bissell, who's been attending games since the 2000 Mudcat season, loves being able to see people who he wouldn't be able to interact with regularly.

His wife Pennie is the Horn Section's designated choreographer and became a baseball fan through going to games with Dennis.

They may miss only one or two games per summer.

"You develop an ongoing relationship" Dennis Bissell said. "It's the camaraderie and although we may know each other from other venues we get to come here to chat and talk."

When a double play ended Sunday's game the Horn Section gave their instruments one final blow and, despite the risk of carpal tunnel, shook those cow bells one last time.

The buzzing of horns feels like being transported to South Africa circa summer 2010.

Every hit, pitch or play made by the Gold Sox ends with a cheer worthy of AT&T Park in October. That's how much love the Horn Section has for each other and the team.

When Neil circled the bases after hitting his homer on Sunday he tipped his cap to the Horn Section, which responded with zeal and a standing ovation.

Nagy was sitting with a smile on her face right where she belonged. A cowbell in one hand and a piece of licorice in the other.