No one wants to see your butt pack

Hopefully, by now my photos from Operation : Northern Wind VI will have been released. If not, wait a while. They're worth it. In any case, this gives me an opportunity to climb back up on my soapbox and spout off about the blending of my two hobbies which will hopefully be the genesis of something leading me to the famous “Step 3: PROFIT!”

When I was at RIT I had to endure a few weeks of shooting sports photography. I hated it. I really don't give a damn about any sports except for the Olympics and those are easy to follow because most of them are races of one form or another. Maybe I should have tried to photograph some track meets, they'd have been easier to keep up with than high school soccer or tennis. The rule was: try to have the kid moving, face visible, with the ball in the frame. If you want to do mediocre sports shots that you can pass around at a PTA meeting, that's how to do it.

The thing is, I just didn't have the timing down and hated every second of it. While I can watch, enjoy and certainly appreciate the athleticism of sport, I have no interest in recording it. Photographing the fans was always a hell of a lot more fun. I've got a great shot of a soccer mom staring laser holes into a woman rooting for the other team, and another one of a Teen Girl Squad with one hanger on sulking in the background. They're good shots, you'll have to take my word for it.

Photographing airsoft is a little different. First, I actually like doing it. Second, I know how things go, I know what people do when, where they're going to go so I can put myself in the right place. There's a third one in there, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I think it has something to do with marking anyone who ruins a shot for a future burst to the face.

Of course, there are some unique challenges that come with wearing the blaze orange safety vest. Not the least of which is being able to hide that blaze orange safety vest. Well, that's actually impossible, but the point is that I don't want to give away someone's position. The easy way to do that is to just sand there looking stupid, checking the time, looking at a map or compass until the guy watching me turns around and does something else. Then I can resume photographing the person preparing to put a burst into his center of mass.

Another challenge goes back to the rule for mediocre sports photography. A soccer mom does not want to only see her kid's jersey number and no matter how much money they spend on their fake radio and hydro carrier, no one wants pictures of only the ass end of their kit. (Even if they have a large “Mud flap girl” patch that says, “Big Sexy,” on it. So that means getting in front of someone who is in the process of putting rounds downrange, often while they are dealing with incoming. This is where I can get my ass lit up from both sides at once. But the photos look good. And, two more names get added to the “In the face!” list.

Before the game starts I try to learn all I can about the objectives for each team and the lay of the land. I want to put myself where most of the action is going to be. In the case of Northern Wind, that meant spending a lot of time around a cluster of buildings. But, being sneaky myself I was able to channel both teams and find some other good fights. I was able to cut through the woods and find myself in a position to get some minor fights which otherwise wouldn't have been covered. Not everybody likes to be in the big battle. Everybody likes to find themselves looking badass in the photo gallery.

The last really big challenge is the dance. The dance, is what happens whenever you get more than one photographer or videographer covering in event. We all see the shots we want, but go through a crazy set of motions trying to keep the the orange vests out of our shots while staying out of theirs. We are a shy, sneaky and slightly evil lot. We don't like to be recorded. We like to be ghosts, 6”2' skinny, day glo orange ghosts. The only evidence of our passing being what we decide other people get to see. Seriously, the next time you're at a wedding watch how it works. There will be the guy getting paid to photograph, and at least two people with expensive cameras and an artistic bent out to get their own version of the same events. (Whenever I'm at a wedding I always introduce myself to the guy getting paid to shoot the thing and tell him to shove me out of his way if I'm in the wrong place. He's got money riding on this, I don't.)

The dance gets really fun when shit is hitting the fan all around you. Yelling, 'nades being tossed, smokes being thrown fusillades of bb's going in at least two directions- and on top of that you're trying to stay out of Nikki with the telephoto and Jeff with the DV cam's shots while getting close enough with the mid-range zoom to do some damage. And then you have to dodge game control's Humvee as they roll up to check out the fun.

I'm sorry does that sound like bitching? Let me pull down my balaclava so you can see the grin. I'm getting shots fucker! Good ones! Keep popping smoke and keep me happy! Too close for missiles? Switchin' to guns!