Shutter bug.

Writer, editor, ad designer, photographer.

It’s not the first title on my name plate but it’s the one that gets me closest to the action.

As a sports photographer, I’ve come to see competition through a long lens. 

I first tried my hand at photographing sports fresh out of college. My first arena was on the floor beside the wrestling mat. More than 20 years later, you’ll still find me there. It takes me longer to get down and get up again but I’m still there.

I’ve only gotten tangled up in the action once — and that was this season. Thank goodness it wasn’t the 285-pounders who came tumbling toward me. No, it was a couple of 125-pounders. I stuck my hand up over my head and they bounced off me.

Next was football. I like walking the sidelines, weaving between the players as they wait for their turn to take the field. Occasionally, I catch a coach’s words of encouragement or discipline as a player stands at his elbow, waiting to be sent back in.

I’ve avoided being tackled — for the most part. I’ve sidestepped and tiptoed and leaped to save myself — and my camera.

Years ago, I used film and prayed that photos would appear magically in the chemistry of the darkroom. Nowadays, I carry an amazing digital model. I can tell immediately if I got the shot — or if I missed capturing the impossible catch for posterity.

Next up was volleyball. I have to say that net gave me trouble.

Recently I’ve tried my hand at basketball. I don’t shoot with a flash because I find it distracting to the players and the crowd. Instead I rely on natural light. In most new gyms that works fine. Some old gyms make it harder to get a well-lit shot.

Basketball is a fast-paced sport. Squinting through a telephoto lens is not. In front of the lens, players and balls move at breakneck speed. Behind the lens, I don’t.

I’ve gradually developed a technique for getting a few decent shots. I position myself at the end of the court. I feel vulnerable because I can’t see the ball at all times as I focus on the players in my viewfinder. I’m constantly anticipating the ball being thrown out of bounds and bouncing off my head or my camera. I wouldn’t see it coming. I’d be an easy target.

So why do I do it? Why do I risk life and limb?

That’s easy. While I’m no athlete myself, I like sports — especially the human-ness of it. The facial expressions of joy, defeat, intesity, hope, fear, relief and pride.

Emotions are etched on the face, exposed in a player’s posture, underwritten by the pep in their step. You can hear the huff and puff of exertion, the sigh of loss, the cry of pain, the cheer of victory.

It’s a privilege to be able to watch competition from that vantage point to be that close to the heat of battle.

There’s one downside though — I find it difficult to take a seat in the bleachers where a good fan belongs. I’ll probably roam the sidelines as long as they let me.