Sports journalists have an obligation to keep their "inner fan" under control whenever they cover a game. If the "inner fan" prevails, the likely result is biased coverage.
In my case, it's about me letting distractions hamper my ability to maintain focus. I got so caught up emotionally with who was playing, that I missed great opportunities to get some dynamite action shots as a photographer.
It was the mid'80s, and it was my first time attending an NBA game (and no, this was not an exhibition). But I wasn't going just to see the game. I had a photographer's pass which allowed me to take pictures at courtside. ThePhiladelphia 76ers were in town to play the Atlanta Hawks. As far as I was concerned, life couldn't get any better.
I was so hyped about this. It took me most of the game to settle down. Here I was at courtside, in a position to watch Julius "Dr. J" Erving operate on the Hawks. A few days before the game, I wasn't very confident that I would get a media pass, so I bought one of those $5 cheap seats located in the rafters of The Omni arena.
My camera was loaded with film. All I needed to do was what I had always done in years past at other basketball games. But this was not just any other basketball game. This was the NBA. Dr, J. was in the house. And so was Dominique Wilkins, who had just started his spectacular pro career with the Hawks.
Positioned under the basket, I could see all the action, every elbow thrown, every hip check made as players jostled each other for loose balls and rebounds. Don't know why I had such difficulty ridding myself of all the newness and excitement of photographing an actual professional basketball game.
I kept scanning the arena, from the nose-bleed section to floor level. I soaked it all in. Looking back, maybe I acted the way I did because I wasn't sure if I would ever get such an opportunity again.
Early in the third quarter, I learned a lesson that I've never forgotten– always be prepared for the moment. Here's how it all transpired:
Dr. J. got the ball near the top of the key, took a dribble and went airborne after he glided past the free throw line. This was going to be another signature dunk, or so it seemed. Erving is about to reach the peak of his leap, Then, Dan Roundfield of the Hawks enters the picture. Roundfield, an All-Star in his day, "skies" and blocks the Doctor's shot. The entire sequence unfolded right before me as I peered through the viewfinder of my trusty Pentax.
There was one problem. I didn't get the shot, and it was all because I was so wrapped up in the action that I froze and failed to click the shutter. That showed me that I wasn't ready to cover sports at the highest levels – yet. More than anything, it was apparent I was still too much in awe of my surroundings. The awe factor vanished after I covered a few more pro games. Once that happened, I was able to get the shots I wanted, and it helped my writing too.
So, for the sake of objectivity and for the sake of performing your best, the sports journalist is best served by keeping the "fan within" on a tight leash.
In my case, it's about me letting distractions hamper my ability to maintain focus. I got so caught up emotionally with who was playing, that I missed great opportunities to get some dynamite action shots as a photographer.
It was the mid'80s, and it was my first time attending an NBA game (and no, this was not an exhibition). But I wasn't going just to see the game. I had a photographer's pass which allowed me to take pictures at courtside. ThePhiladelphia 76ers were in town to play the Atlanta Hawks. As far as I was concerned, life couldn't get any better.
I was so hyped about this. It took me most of the game to settle down. Here I was at courtside, in a position to watch Julius "Dr. J" Erving operate on the Hawks. A few days before the game, I wasn't very confident that I would get a media pass, so I bought one of those $5 cheap seats located in the rafters of The Omni arena.
My camera was loaded with film. All I needed to do was what I had always done in years past at other basketball games. But this was not just any other basketball game. This was the NBA. Dr, J. was in the house. And so was Dominique Wilkins, who had just started his spectacular pro career with the Hawks.
Positioned under the basket, I could see all the action, every elbow thrown, every hip check made as players jostled each other for loose balls and rebounds. Don't know why I had such difficulty ridding myself of all the newness and excitement of photographing an actual professional basketball game.
I kept scanning the arena, from the nose-bleed section to floor level. I soaked it all in. Looking back, maybe I acted the way I did because I wasn't sure if I would ever get such an opportunity again.
Early in the third quarter, I learned a lesson that I've never forgotten– always be prepared for the moment. Here's how it all transpired:
Dr. J. got the ball near the top of the key, took a dribble and went airborne after he glided past the free throw line. This was going to be another signature dunk, or so it seemed. Erving is about to reach the peak of his leap, Then, Dan Roundfield of the Hawks enters the picture. Roundfield, an All-Star in his day, "skies" and blocks the Doctor's shot. The entire sequence unfolded right before me as I peered through the viewfinder of my trusty Pentax.
There was one problem. I didn't get the shot, and it was all because I was so wrapped up in the action that I froze and failed to click the shutter. That showed me that I wasn't ready to cover sports at the highest levels – yet. More than anything, it was apparent I was still too much in awe of my surroundings. The awe factor vanished after I covered a few more pro games. Once that happened, I was able to get the shots I wanted, and it helped my writing too.
So, for the sake of objectivity and for the sake of performing your best, the sports journalist is best served by keeping the "fan within" on a tight leash.
Source...