At 2:30 PM I’m not “getting ready.” I’m working.
Batteries come off chargers. Cards get formatted. Bag gets loaded the same way every time. Bodies, lenses, straps, covers, backups. No scrambling, no guessing, no drama. Once I’m at a field or in a gym, I want zero questions in my head that aren’t about the next frame.
At 4:00 PM I eat dinner.
Actual food. At home. Sitting down. After that, I’m done eating for the night. I’m not leaving a game to hit a snack bar. I’m not missing a moment because I’m hungry. When I’m on, I’m on.
At 4:30 PM I’m walking into the gym if it’s volleyball or basketball. Games start at 4:45.
Gyms are rough: bad light, bad colors, busy backgrounds, refs and random humans wandering into frames. I get there early, look around, solve the problems.
Where can I shoot and not be in the way.
Where do I get faces instead of backs.
Where does the light not completely suck.
If I’m outside, I get an extra 30 minutes to taste my food while I eat and roll in at 5.
Football, soccer, field hockey, track. Different layouts, same logic.
Check the sun.
Check the backgrounds.
Figure out which sideline or corner gives me clean frames instead of poles, porta potties, and cars.
You remember things from game to game from school to school. Fields with the best lighting, gyms with the worst lighting, everything in betwee. At the W&L track I’ve literally used the light spilling out of the concession stand window to shoot runners because it was better than what was on the track. You adapt or you don’t get the shot. Simple.
Once I’ve sorted my spots inside or out, I hit concessions for the one dumb luxury I allow myself: a cold bottle of chocolate milk. Gotta get that protein hit. Then it’s camera up.
I say hi to the AD, give coaches space, nod to kids who know me. They know I’m there to work, not be a problem. That matters.
Varsity starts around 7, usually done around 9.
Under the lights, everything is faster and less forgiving.
I’m not chasing the ball. I’m reading the game.
Who gets the ball when it matters.
Who runs hot and might break one.
Who wears everything on their face.
I move before the play: end zone, sideline, near post, far post. Kneel, stand, slide, track. I shoot bursts, but I’m not spraying to feel busy. I’m looking for the actual frame: extension, contact, separation, celebration, collapse.
Between plays I’m watching:
- Bench when the momentum shifts.
- Coaches when calls go sideways.
- Student section when it flips from bored to unhinged.
- Seniors and injured kids living and dying on the sideline.
It’s all part of the same story.
When the game ends, I don’t immediately bail. I pack up the big lenses but leave one camera out.
Some of the real stuff happens then.
Helmets off. Eyes red or lit up. Kids hugging parents, teammates, trainers. Seniors starting to understand the countdown. People processing wins and losses in real time.
I shoot what’s honest. There’s a line in those moments. I respect it and will never cross it.
Home by 9:30. Asleep by 10:30.
Cards stay in the cameras. Bag stays zipped. No 1 AM “just a few edits.” Tired brains make shitty choices.
Next morning, 7:00 AM: culling with coffee.
Open the set. No feelings.
Soft? Gone. Blink? Gone. Ref in the middle? Gone. Ten frames of the same play gets cut to the one that actually hits. I’ve been around sports long enough to know what matters:
Does it show effort.
Does it show joy.
Does it look like how it felt out there.
8:00 AM: editing.
Straightforward. Tight.
Exposure, color, contrast, crop. Fix what needs fixing, don’t overcook it. No goofy filters, no plastic skin, no fake drama. Let the kids look like themselves, just frozen at full speed.
If I’m lucky, 10:00 AM: posting.
Photos hit, people start grabbing their moments and sending them around. That’s the point.
Then reset.
Batteries back on chargers. Cards cleared after backup. Bag emptied, cleaned, re-packed in order. Lenses wiped. Straps checked. Anything off gets fixed now.
In a few hours it will be game day again.