Jeffery "JR" Richardson, the band director, would probably pitch a fit. He was bound to throw something -- a pencil, his drumsticks or the largest trophy in the room. And more often than not, he would turn teens into both better band musicians and better people.

On Sunday, at a showcase of bands, Richardson got special recognition from Tournament of Roses parade organizers.

"For 30 years, he's heard his share of wrong notes, bad excuses and had to deal with parents," said master of ceremonies Jim Hahn at Pasadena City College stadium. "To culminate your career here is quite a feather in everybody's cap."

Richardson, 52, had so impressed parade organizers over the past 15 months of preparation that they invited him to talk Saturday to about 125 directors of some of the world's top bands. Organizers thought he could teach the incoming directors a thing or two for next year.

"He's been the most organized, most efficient band director," explained Ellen Carroll, a member of the parade's music committee.

And, she said, he's a character.

"Everybody at Tournament House knows him," Carroll said. "There are constant discussions about 'Have you heard the latest JRism?' "

Funny. Students have collected their own JRisms, too. Last year, seniors blanketed his office with sticky notes, each with a different JRism scribbled on it. His expressions have a way of rattling inside students' heads.

"He never says anything once -- two times minimum -- and that's a good day," joked Michael Miller, 18, a senior alto sax player.

Maya Eriksen, 15, a color guard member, said she and her sister Zoe Eriksen, 16, a piccolo player, like to pretend to be him over the weekends. They also practice the "JR frown," which Richardson wears when he's less than pleased.

"It's empowering," Maya said. "You get to feel the authority he has over people.

JRism No. 1: "It's all about tradition. I am not going to change."

Stereos with recorded sound, elaborate backdrops and expensive props -- No.

Tough-to-keep-clean white uniform pants and fragile 12-inch-tall ostrich-feather plumes -- Yes.

Richardson, indeed, is a stickler for tradition.

"A band in white pants is stunning. It's so much sharper," he says. "It stands out on a green field at night."

And the more-traditional real feather plumes make band members look taller.

Tradition is also the reason he has remained rooted at Broughton all these years.

"Broughton ... it's just Raleigh," he said.

JRism No. 2: "It's all about the journey."

Band alumnus Will Langley, 23, recalls a tactic Richardson sometimes employed to fire up his band.

"A couple times before a concert, he would take the biggest trophy and slam it into a million pieces," Langley said. "We would be amazed."

The take-home message: Trophies or coming in first are not so important.

"Trophies are a waste of money," said Richardson, who once fell off a ladder and broke his hip while putting away a trophy.

Most people forget about trophies as soon as they leave a venue, he said. But did you have a blast? Did you play the best you could? That's what's important.

One former baritone player from Richardson's first year at Broughton recently wrote to make a donation for the trip and reminisce about marching in a Disney World evening light parade.

"I remember watching those 40 ft tall gates slowly swing open and marching through them," Rachel Gelben wrote. "It still gives me goosebumps."

Tuba player Robert Samuelson, 19, one of six band alumni who returned to march with Broughton, said he couldn't pass up the opportunity for another fun experience. In 2004, his freshman year, he went with Broughton to New York City's St. Patrick's Day parade. It was 29 degrees, and there was 6 inches of snow, he said, and "that made it even better."

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