A game of inches.

"Well it's, turn and face the stars and stripes

It's fightin' back them butterflies

It's call it in the air alright yes sir we want the ball

And it's knockin' heads and talkin' trash

It's slingin' mud and dirt and grass

It's I got your number, got your back

When you back's against the wall

You mess with one man, you got us all

The boys of fall"

This has been a great year for photography in Glen Ellyn, IL.  Sure the fall colors came, and went, there are new stores lining Main Street that make it look new and different--but what really made it a great year occurred less than a quarter-mile away from the trees and downtown stores. It all came to life on Saturdays at Duchon Field where our local high school football, the Glenbard West Hilltoppers, call home. 

Yes, high school is not the same as college or pro, but the way this community responded to the undefeated regular season…the Bears and state universities ranked a very distant second. 

Being a photographer on the field places you in the middle of the action without getting injured; there have been times when I thought I was too close, but when it really came to being part of the game, it felt as real is it could get. During the final game, a ball came within inches of where I was sitting—at one point I considered stopping it as it went out of bounds, but very quickly remembered how fortunate I am to be on the sidelines. You do not, in any way, ever touch the ball, speak with the coaches during the game, or do anything to interfere within the two or so hours when the game is taking place. 

Never. Period.

Last weekend I was fortunate to witness the best game of the year; if not the entire time I have been photographing the team. Unlike most games, where Glenbard West dominates and destroys any team that has the guts to step on the field, this was different. The opposing team was from my former community where I spent more than 15 years; it was a game of the top 2 teams deciding who would be moving on to the big game—the state championship.

The first 46 or so minutes of the game were all defense with only a field goal by Glenbard West. It appeared, with good reason, West was going to be playing their final game a hundred or so miles away to the south. But like any good team that has come to play, Stevenson was not going down until the last whistle blew. When it did, they had pulled out a game for the ages—one where there really were no losers on the field, just one team that had scored 4 more points than the other. It was incredible.

However, before that final whistle, there was still the need for a score; to say it was close is to say it is truly a game of inches. One of the best things about being familiar with the local team, and knowing the field, is being fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time. I was and I was lucky.

The photo above was viewed by many different angles from other photographers, local TV coverage, and every fan who saw the play from the stands, sidelines and nearby. There was one angle that was shown, and not until the next day did I see it—was his knee down? Did the ball cross the goal line? I guess we will never know. It's all a game of inches.

Thanks for stopping by.