When you catch a little lightning in a bottle, especially for the first time, can you immediately recognize your own good fortune? Lacking any context, you can’t really know. But every once in a while, you dare to believe. The kid makes your jaw drop. And the next moment she makes you pull out your hair, enough to prolong the skepticism.
Vivian once wanted to play at Tennessee.
When I started down my career path as a sportswriter, never did I imagine that I’d one day be part of an exhibit at the Smithsonian — as a photographer.
Nikki Lewis, mother and coach Fayth Goodrich Lewis and MVP Angel Goodrich celebrate.
I’ve taken better photos, but a big part of journalism (and history) is being at the right place, doing the right thing at the right time. And this is how the above image of Fayth Goodrich and her daughters, Nikki Lewis and Angel Goodrich, came to be in the exhibit, “Indivisible,” at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian (the exhibit will tour the country; see Web site for details).
Back in the summer of 2008, I’d decided that Mindi Rice and I would cover the Native American Basketball Invitational (NABI) in Phoenix as part of our mission at ESPN HoopGurlz to show high-school girls’ basketball players throughout the nation, of every culture. It was a rich, unforgettable experience, made ever more special by the Smithsonian surprise.
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Sports photographers have it drummed into their heads to get the ball (or puck or curling stone) into their pictures, and with good reason. The ball is the centerpiece of any action and serves to provide context and perspective to any sports action shot. It’s considered so important, in fact, that among the 79 photos found to be digitally doctored by prize-winning photographer Allen Detrich, one of the best-known was a women’s basketball shot into which an otherwise missing ball was Photoshopped.
Marysville-Pilchuk coach Julie Martin and her players.
Though I will be perfectly happy to run current and enhanced applications on a new Apple tablet device with a higher-resolution, 10-inch color screen that will read multiple finger swipes and be tethered to the Internet, like many of my ilk, I will be most interested in its impact on journalism – more specifically, the newspaper industry. Coupled with the iTunes retailing environment, the iPad, should enable newspapers to easily and more reliable charge for content. But it will be up to the print-publishing industry (lets include magazines) to generate the kind of compelling content for which digital-generation consumers will pay.
One imagined version of the Apple tablet
I hope it goes almost without saying that newspapers on an iPad must constantly be updated. Gone are the days when one, two or three editions of a paper and published and the day is done. Because of the Web, news cycles now are 24/7. This would be a starting point for me to even consider installing a newspaper app – for free – on my new device. Otherwise, I’m happy with the NYT (I’m a print subscriber which probably means I will be grandfathered into any new, digital offerings) and excellent news apps from the Associated Press, CNN and National Public Radio (NPR).
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It’s just occurred to me that I listened to Bob Blackburn during the 25 most formative years of my life. I first listened to him for 15 years on the radio, delivering an almost nightly Sonic serenade, mostly in the dark, on my scratchy transistor radio. I then was a captured audience during my first 10 years as a sportwriter, during which Bob was a travel and dinner companion, and tennis partner on the long and long-winded NBA road.
Bob Blackburn, 1924-2010
I recently reached the 10th anniversary of my leaving print journalism for the Web and, in reflecting upon some of the personal developments during that decade, I noted with some remorse my separation from one of my childhood loves — my subscription to Sports Illustrated. As a sports junkie and participant, plus a budding sportswriter, SI was my Bible. However, with the proliferation of instant score gratification and sports analysis on the Web, SI’s weekly format and in-depth, albeit well-crafted, prose no longer fit into my what’s-happening-this-millisecond lifestyle.
But, like the ugly high-school duckling who shows up to the reunion as the swan you wish you’d asked to the prom, SI is poised for a dramatic return — more beautiful, hip and engaging than ever.
more about "Sports Illustrated – Tablet Demo 1.5 …", posted with vodpod
C’mon, admit it, if you’re like me, you want this badly. Real badly.
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As my multimedia ideas and capabilities have evolved, it has been nice to intersect them with the evolution of jazz trumpeter Thomas Marriott, one of my favorite musicians and friend. Marriott on Sunday headlined a concert for the Earshot Jazz Festival, considered by Downbeat to be “Seattle’s most important annual jazz event.” The concert, at Tula’s in Seattle, highlighted Marriott’s own works, which are formidable, and Marriott had a great supporting cast, which included local sax player Mark Taylor and pianist Travis Shook, an electric performer who was in from New York City for the show.
I’m a big fan of jazz and a big fan of trumpet players, dating back to Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan and Miles Davis and stretching to Wynton Marsalis, whom I started following when he was just a young lion in Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. Marriott is moving into the realm of the former because he’s more of an artist than musician, with inventive and emotive approaches to his tunes. I never get tired of his music.
more about "Thomas Marriott at Earshot Jazz 09 on…", posted with vodpod
This is my third post about Marriott, and each has discussed a shooting (still and video) environment with its own unique challenges. The first shoot took place at Ama Ama, a restaurant and bar with no stage and little ambient lighting; the second shoot was at The Triple Door, with its big stage and good stage lighting. Tula’s, which has been the local showcase for jazz, is more typical of jazz clubs you’ll find in other parts of the country, with a small stage engulfed by tables and a bar, with stage lighting that is a bit more localized.
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When critics accuse journalists of “being in bed” with some of their sources, I don’t think they mean it literally. But occasionally it happens. And in the “real world,” it can be the stuff of major scandal.
Just two years ago, Mirthala Salinas, an anchor for the Spanish-language network Telemundo, became the source of national headlines when her affair with Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa became public. Salinas was suspended without pay and subsequently reassigned (banished, really) by Telemundo and her once-rising star has been shot down. Her crime — covering the mayor while she was romantically involved with him — is considered a clear conflict of interest by the news industry and the public at large.
Which begs the question: Is sports no longer part of the real world? Where I live, in Seattle, Wash., sports reporter Lisa Gangel of KING-TV is engaged to Patrick Kerney, a defensive end for the NFL’s Seahawks. I’d really not thought a lot about that until, channel surfing last Sunday, I happened across a Seahawks post-game show on KING and there was Gangel on the broadcast. Interesting — Salinas covers her love interest and gets drummed into obscurity; Gangel covers hers and is named recently by SeattlePI.com sports columnist Jim Moore, (in the interest of full disclosure, a friend of mine), the sexiest female sports personality in Seattle.
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I got an opportunity to do a short photo shoot of jazz legend McCoy Tyner’s visit to KPLU, the NPR affiliate in Seattle. First of all, I was really thrilled because he still is a vibrant performer, though he is one of the last from the truly golden era of jazz. He is closely associated with John Coltrane, but stands more than firmly on his own. Just find a version of his “Search for Peace,” one of my all-time favorite songs (also see the bottom of a previous post Jazz and the Flip Mino HD Camera). It’ll move you, for sure.
Tyner is humble and easy going. I got a chance to speak to him for 5-10 minutes and it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it could have been. I often get intimidated speaking to artists, as opposed to athletes, mostly because I’m afraid my very crowded memory will fail me. I tend to remember when a basketball player scored 40 points in a game a lot better than who played the bass on a certain recording with a certain artist.
McCoy Tyner waiting for his on-air session at KPLU.
NEW ORLEANS — We think a lot of time has passed — four years — and therefore much has changed since Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Lower Ninth Ward neighborhood. Shockingly not as much has changed as you might expect.
I’m down here for a basketball tournament, but cannot help but be captivated by the continuing reminder of loss and rebuilding that has not happened quickly enough.
