Football is football is football. Right?

Football at all levels, from high school to the pros, is reaching a pinnacle right now. Professional football is at the halfway mark. The Minnesota State High School football tournament starts today around the state, and the Minnesota State University football team will host a NCAA tournament game for the first time Saturday at Blakeslee Stadium. It's an exciting month for football.

In general, football is football. The basic rules are the same at all levels. Score touchdowns and field goals while keeping your opponent from doing the same. Certainly this is true, but the game is obviously made different by the level at which it is being played.

Over the last month I've photographed football at all three levels: Professional (Green Bay vs. Minnesota at the Dome Oct. 5), Division II college (Minnesota State) and high school (Mankato East & West, among a host of others). Each game at each level presents unique challenges for me as a photographer, and my approach to the game is different for each one.

I was fortunate/unfortunate enough to photograph the Monday Night Football tilt in October between the Green Bay Packers and the Minnesota Vikings, a fairly rare assignment for the Free Press. Those of you who know me know I'm a Packer fan at heart, but live in a Viking world, so the whole Favre-drama-playing-his-old-team-who's-gonna-win thing was certainly not lost on me. It's a rare thing for the Free Press to send me to such an event, so I certainly wanted to show up with my A+ game, so add that to the level of nerves flowing through me at the time. Add to that the more than 100 credentialed photographers, the VIPs, the on-air TV talent roving the sidelines and you have a crowded house full of restrictions to navigate, on deadline.

Just a few photographers trying to get a picture of Vikings Brett Favre at the same time.

Again, while the basics are the same (I use a similar equipment setup for all three), shooting the much faster and more crowded professional football game takes a different approach. I spend more time in the back of one end zone or the other so I have clearer sight lines past all the other photographers, VIPs and guys carrying big parabolic dishes. Being on deadline, I chose to sacrifice much of the third quarter to transmit photos back to the paper, then return to shoot the fourth quarter and post game.

Busy sideline.

Minnesota State football is a much different game, and I take a different approach to it. While I like to shoot from the end zones at Blakeslee Stadium too, I tend to move up and down the field with the play a bit more. Since they are a team I cover more often, I do my best to get to know who the key players are and the style of offense and defense so I can be watching the right people at the right times. I also have more freedom to move in among the players if I need to for brief periods to get pictures of coaches or specific players, something that would get me promptly thrown out of a Vikings game.

Shooting from the back of the end zone gets players like MSU running back Ernest Walker coming right at the viewer.

Photos like this one of MSU receiver Chris Nowlin are made easier by knowing the team's tendencies.

Shooting the Mankato East vs. Mankato West football game is an even more different matter. Weather not withstanding, high school football offers the ultimate freedom. Freedom to move up and down the sidelines at will, mingle with players while looking for photos, go on the field after the game. That freedom often comes at a price, however. Most high school football games are at night under lights that don't quite light the field evenly or adequately (I often describe a field or gym that has some light, but not anywhere near enough as shooting in "available darkness"). I tend to shoot with shorter lenses and a flash and move up and down the sidelines with the play much more than while shooting college or pro football. The payoff, for me at least, is the raw emotions that come from high school players that seems to diminish as they move up in level.

The raw emotion of West football players after defeating crosstown rival Mankato East is a common thread in high school sports.

Photos like this one of a lineman's feet in the mud are more difficult to get when access is limited.

I find it funny that the photographers I know who regularly shoot professional sports, with few exceptions, say high school sports are their favorite things to photograph, while those that regularly shoot only high school or college sports say they'd love to shoot the pros.

Photographers that have to deal with the circus of professional sports regularly say that the access granted by high schools and most colleges allows an unmatched flexibility and creativity. This is very true. Those that don't deal with it as often find the circus atmosphere of the big game alluring.
I tend to live in both worlds, to some extent. While I don't photograph professional sports frequently, I am in the ring often enough to appreciate the big-ness of the event and be annoyed by it at the same time. I also do it often enough to realize how lucky I am to get to work with the great high schools and colleges of this area, who, with few exceptions, are willing to bend over backwards to help me do my job to the best of my ability.

For the first time in many, many years, when the Minnesota pheasant season opened at 9 a.m., Saturday, I had a camera rather than a shotgun in my hand.
I decided that Madelia's first annual Pheasant Phest was a big enough deal that I ought to take that in instead of traveling to my customary opening day spots with my usual hunting buddies. Duty called, as it were.
Of course, I could have been carrying a shotgun in addition to the Nikon. Early on, I was invited to hunt with the contingent of Madelia area hunters who were celebrating the opening of the season.
But I learned long ago that when one divides his attention between making photographs and another activity, in this case, hunting, neither ends up being done very well.
So I just committed to carrying a camera in the field as I trailed the group of hunters and dogs, enjoying the camaraderie that is part of such an event.
Of course, as it turned out, two of the three roosters the party bagged got up at my feet. I missed 'em with my camera but others in the hunting party managed to drop the birds with their shotguns.
Now I'm sure there those folks out there, particularly after watching Vikings Twins games, who believe that being a photographer at various events must be a great thing because, after all, photographers frequently have what appears to be the best seat in the house...and for free, no less.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Sidelines are not the best place to watch a game. That's why football teams always have coaches stationed high above the field to relay to the sidelines what's really going on.
What's more, court side or the sidelines aren't the place to be if you are an ardent fan. It's considered bad form (even to the extent that officials will ask offending parties to leave) if someone in the press ranks is openly rooting for one team or the other.
Dispassionate detachment is the expected sideline decorum in the working press corp. And work it is, as we compete informally with all of the other image makers who are shooting photographs, as well. There's a reason it's called work and that we get paid to do it.
It turned out that there was really nothing remarkable to shoot photographs of at the pheasant opener. What's more, by all accounts, the bird shooting was sparse enough within my circle of hunting buddies that I really didn't feel like I missed too much. Just way too much corn out there, yet.
But on late Saturday afternoon, after I'd written the story for the Sunday edition and edited the photographs, I finally managed to get out for the last hour of daylight to give my spaniel a chance to stretch his legs.
We hunted a public area that undoubtedly had been pounded by hunters earlier in the day. Our efforts were rewarded with a brace of roosters that we intercepted as they headed from the corn back into their roosting areas.

John Cross photo exhibit this weekend

Sweet Taste of Summer by John Cross.
If you're looking for something cool to do this weekend, my colleague John Cross has an exhibit opening tonight at the Blue Earth County Historical Society on Cherry St. called "Faces and Places of South Central Minnesota." You should really check it out. He has some great work from his 34 years of photographing this area.

While the exhibit is up through October, there is an opening reception tonight from 6-8 p.m. at the Heritage Center and a meet and greet with John from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday. I got a look at the exhibit catalog yesterday. It's all beautifully matted and framed, courtesy of Brian Fowler at the Artisan Gallery (part of Quality 1 Hr. Photo), and it's all for sale!

Check it out. It's worth your time. Maybe I'll see you there.

Canons and Nikons: The Debate

I'm frequently asked by people purchasing their first serious SLR digital camera: Nikon or Canon?
It's a little bit like asking someone if he or she prefers a Ford or a Chevy. Personally, I use Nikons and except for my very first camera _ an East German-built Hanimex Pracktica for which I ponied up the then-princely sum of $100 in 1968 _ I've always used Nikons.
One reason was that back in the 1960s when I embarked on this career, Nikons arguably were king of the professional shooting hill with Canons coming in a serviceable but distant 2nd.
For another, my hometown paper's publisher somehow had wrangled a coveted Nikon dealership out from the U.S. distributor of Nikon products in the early 60s when the brand was just becoming recognized as top-flight pro gear.
Since I worked part-time at the paper, I could buy Nikon gear for cost, which was significantly less than what it sold for at retail prices.
And forty years ago, as a senior in High School, that's exactly what I did. After saving and scrimping, I ordered a Nikon F body (in professional black, naturally). It retailed for $225 and ended up costing me $152.
I've still got it (along with several other film Nikons of various vintage that I hung onto a little too long into the digital age and now are worth so little I use them as bookends). In spite of its dings and dents, the old F still remains silky smooth, functional, and nearly bulletproof.
But back to the Canon-Nikon debate. Each brand has had its positives and negatives in recent years and really, both are excellent cameras.
I still use Nikons for a couple of reasons. One is that the Free Press always has been Nikon-based and the specialized, really expensive lenses it owns/owned have been Nikon
For another, Nikon lenses focus exactly in the opposite direction that Canon lenses do. Auto focus is great but frequently, I prefer manual focusing. After so many years it just comes naturally.
Trying to focus a Canon lens is for me a little like getting into a car and discovering the gas and brake controls have been reversed.
Bottom line? They're both good cameras. Compare a $1000 Nikon digital camera and a $1000 Canon digital camera and you'll discover they usually have similar capabilities and features.
Buy either one and you'll soon find out that as just as quickly, a newer improved version inevitably will be introduced making you wish you had waited.
And unlike my old Nikon F which wears its patina of hard use well, nothing ages less gracefully than a digital camera.

CJR Q&A with Damon Winter of the NY Times

I've had some rough days back at work after a vacation before, but nothing like what Damon Winter went through Tuesday. His first assignment back from vacation was a town hall meeting with Sen. Arlen Specter. The photo that led the Times' A section Wednesday morning was a photo of a very angry Craig Miller confronting the senator on the meeting's format. (To respect the Times' copyright, I won't repost it here.)

In an interview with Columbia Journalism Review's Alexandra Fenwick, Winter, who won the Pulitzer Prize this year in Feature Photography for his work covering President Obama's campaign, talks about the event and his approach to shooting it. What struck me was the level to which he prepared himself for what was probably going to happen, going so far as to watch video of prior town hall meetings with the senator. He was also prepared for how the crowd had been taking over events like these and intentionally getting into the photographers' lenses to get their point across, not to mention the less-than-warm welcome he and another Times photographer received.

I've often talked about preparedness with other photographers, but usually only in a sports environment. So many things are out of a photographer's control, especially at a sporting event, that advance preparation is crucial. Is the team's offense primarily a passing or running offense? Who are the major players? Do they do trick plays? How about the pitcher? What are his stats this year? Does he lead the league in strikeouts? Give up a lot of home runs? Does he have a good pickoff move? All of these questions can be answered long in advance, and give me a hint as to what might be a key photograph.

Being prepared can make all the difference when the storytelling moment happens, whether at a football game or a town hall meeting.

The games we play

Bernard Berrian hauls in a catch during practice.

I don't know if you've heard yet, but there's a professional football team in town.

I know, I know. It's hard to believe. Here? Now? Yes.

The annual football circus has rolled into town, and even though Brett Favre isn't with them, Vikings Training Camp is still a circus. For the record, I'm glad Favre didn't show up (the circus would've needed two big tops, one for the players, one for all the media), but I'm also a little disappointed (things would've been more interesting and unique with him here). It's still busy at MSU. More media than past years. Tons of fans filling the stands to watch players stretch.
Media shooting the first day of practice.

The good part about the busy is it brings friends and colleagues from the Twin Cities media outlets to town. It ends up being a great chance to catch up, commiserate, share a meal and some stories together, and try to lift each other's spirits and creative juices, since it seems I only see them when the Vikes come to town.

Besides the game being played on the field, there are a myriad of other games being played off the field during training camp. Media outlets trying to out-blanket-coverage everyone else. Photographers struggling to make an interesting photo of a 350-pound lineman who isn't doing anything but standing there in a half hour or less (more on that later). Reporters mobbing today's player du jour hoping he'll say something interesting.

The problem isn't necessarily in how you play the game, it's in the game itself. Rules and restrictions set forth by the team make uniqueness nearly impossible. Photographers are limited to shooting individual drills only (usually the first half hour of the two-hour practice) and are asked to stop shooting once anything interesting starts to happen or if a player is injured(even though I saw 3 fans in the stands today with the exact same equipment I use shooting 11-on-11 drills). Reporters have limited access to limited players. Coaches say few details about what's happening on or off the field.


Great evening light, and Vikings lineman Anthony Herrera.
So the rules are stacked against us, yet we play the game, especially as photographers. We struggle against security folks saying you can't kneel as we scramble in the limited time available to make interesting pictures for those who follow the Vikings religiously (and for those who are simply curious). I think in some strange way I like the restrictions. It forces me to either find a new recipe for chicken salad or come back with a boring photo of Heath Farwell just standing there sweating. It makes me work harder to make the most of those few good moments: a quick contact drill, great evening light, a laugh between a coach and a player.

Come fly with me

Aluminum Overcast on the ground in Mankato.I remember as a high schooler how busy the airport I worked at got during the Experimental Aircraft Association airshow in Oshkosh. I refueled small airplanes at a small general aviation airport in Juneau, Wisc. (UNU, for you pilots), 26 miles from the airfield at Oshkosh. It was a great stopping point for pilots of every type of plane imaginable needing information before making their way up to the airshow. It was fun meeting people from across the country making their way to aviation's Mecca.

Each year, some of us from the airport would either rent a plane and go up for the day, or get in a car and drive up, both of which were a traffic nightmare. Our favorite part of the show wasn't necessarily the aerial displays, but the plethora of restored World War II fighters and bombers on display on the ground. P-51s, T-6s and the big, lumbering B-17 bomber. All of these classics were painstakingly restored to better than their original glory (fewer bullet holes and grease stains, I'd imagine). I even got to sit in the cockpit of a P-51 Mustang (but that's another story).

I remember seeing Aluminum Overcast sitting on the tarmac at OSH when I took my wife there in 2001, thinking it would be great to take a ride, but $400 wasn't in the wallet at the time, especially to spend on a half-hour plane ride. Fortunately, eight years later, I got the chance to ride in Aluminum Overcast on a half-hour flying over Mankato during the EAA's tour stop here. The plane has been beautifully restored and is used as a promotional tool for the EAA's restoration activities, and for the Oshkosh air show itself.


Me in the bombardier's seat on Aluminum Overcast. (John Cross)
I was a kid in a candy store. Too much to look at. Too much to photograph. Too much to ask of the former Flying Fortress pilots riding with us. I sat in the bombardier's seat, looked through the Norden bomb sight, imagined dropping 8,000 pounds of bombs on the Northstar Bridge. Then, after seeing a photograph of a B-17 crew on the table in the bombardier's compartment and the replicas of the .50-caliber machine guns sticking out the side of the plane, I imagined how scared these crews must have been, seeing German ME-109s shooting at them, with only some thin armor plating and a plastic bubble to protect them.


The Norden bomb sight.All I can say is thank you to those crews, and thank you to the EAA for the opportunity to fly in a beautiful aircraft.