I’ve never been a big sports guy. In high school, I swam and played water polo, and I’ve always enjoyed basketball and football, but as far as knowing players and tracking them throughout the season, forget about it.
Naturally, I wasn’t terribly excited about shooting sports after joining the Emerald staff. However, this all changed after covering my first basketball game, when the Ducks defeated Santa Clara last December.
I was hooked, and I still get chills now when Mac Court erupts and the Pit Crew lives up to its notoriety. Also, I can’t help but feel important while trotting around the court, even though I know nobody cares about my presence, except my parents and possibly my cat.
However, I quickly encountered some annoyances while working on the floor. The biggest and most in-your-face of them?
Ref ass.
I can’t tell if referees are trained to present themselves like that or if they all just think those black slacks are flattering and therefore deserving of camera time, but I do know that I’ve had many a nasty dunk blocked from my view by a mass of ass. During some poorly attended games, I’ve found myself alone on a baseline, and yet the refs still manage to give me a lens full of booty.
Event security staff can also be a hassle. It’s amazing how such little power can overinflate the heads of some who are bestowed with it. Someone barked at me once that I needed to stay behind the line because my toe was over it.
All of these troubles seemed so much more petty after I finally got a chance to shoot football this term.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s amazing being able to walk on-field, and the excitement of a roaring Mac Court crowd of 9,000 pales in comparison to the 60,000 that pack Autzen. Also, nothing beats seeing a gnarly hit happen only 10 feet away.
It’s crowded down there, though, and that’s the source of the majority of the irritation. The two teams’ benches and coaches take up about 30 yards on each sideline, which makes covering the action around the 50-yard line nearly impossible without super telephoto lenses that I unfortunately do not have access to.
Some football fans are not content with just heckling the players, so they yell at me as I walk by. Drunken students are especially willing to act like fools in front of anything that can document their jackassery. While I never pass up the opportunity to grab a few of these shots at games, at some point it gets old and I start ignoring their requests for camera time. That’s when they start lobbing f-bombs at me.
The absolute worst offenders are the television sound guys, however. The already crowded sidelines are further congested by the sound-gathering lackeys who bring us the “real sounds of the game.” Not only do they take up prime space that would be ideal for covering mid-field action, they get to stand farther out than the rest of the media with their giant dishes that invariably jump into frame whenever something cool comes my way.
And for what? The best I’ve heard was nothing more than a few grunts – not more impressive-sounding than the effects in any Madden NFL video game. You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about, because they show these clips during prime pee-break times.
At the Civil War game last Saturday, this problem was further exacerbated by fans crowding the sidelines. After Jordan Kent’s touchdown catch, I went hunting for him on the bench, figuring I’d just be missing a simple PAT. When I realized we were going for two, however, I hustled back, only to find the sideline crowded with a dozen people who were clearly not working. I ended up shooting the action over a fan’s shoulder, who jumped up after the successful conversion, smashing my camera into my eye.
Suddenly, that sweet, sweet ref ass didn’t seem so bad after all.
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How ref ass and sound guys ruin prime pics
Daily Emerald
November 30, 2006
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