THE WILD WEIRD WORLD OF SPORTS

Today, Oregon did what it does best.

It rained.

(Might sound strange, but the weather here in Oregon has been pretty nice overall. Thank global warming for that.)

Anyway, the wet weather was perfect for muddy cycle cross photos. The riders were buzzing with chatter at the starting line, eager to tackle the slick course.

The fans, many of them spouses and/or racers in other divisions, supported bikers through grueling mud. A few had cow bells. One had a funny bike horn that sounded like a duck farting. Whatever it takes.

Not as wild or wacky or weird as Redneck Games, but still a lot of fun. And mud!

Bumped into some friends, too. Leo and Jack with their folks Tim and Sara. I missed Tim’s race, so I have a reason to return.

Some photos don’t seem to have anything to do with sports. And yet they have everything to do with it. Here’s a father chopping wood for a small fire to keep warm during the race.

While shooting, I kept thinking of how I might have shot this differently in years past. I probably would have shot with a long lens and tried to clean up the background, make things look as nearly perfect as possible.

Now, those power lines and crap in the photo, they’re important. If I shoot it clean, you might think it were in rural Oregon rather than suburban Portland. Hell, this race was right next to a Fred Meyer’s.

Rain, earth, nature, cyclists. And One-Stop Shopping.

Props to Finch for getting cycle cross on my radar.

Kaijū: a Japanese word that means “strange beast,” but often translated in English as “monster.” Specifically, it is used to refer to a genre of tokusatsu entertainment with roughly humanoid monsters.

The most famous kaijū is Godzilla.

While in France this summer, I met Alain Dufour, a Quebecois photog who told me about kaijū. Based in Boston and NYC, it’s Pro Wrestling meets Godzilla.

Once I saw this video, I shit my pants. Then I booked my ticket to JFK.

The Big Battel was held @ The Warsaw in Brooklyn, this wonderful Polish community center/bar/music venue. The 5.6% Żywiec piwo (beer), pierogis and Polish seniors milling around made me long for the other Warsaw.

As for the photo ops, it’s hard to describe exactly what happened. But it was wonderful. Truly wonderful.

Easily my favorite wrestler was French Toast, who looked more like a waffle. He got pancaked immediately by Giii the Space Pirate for the 3-count.

One of my goals for this night was to get a sweet photo that could run as a double-truck in SI or ESPN the Mag. I actually had the chance to show their NY editors in person the kaijū video. They thought it was wild, so I felt my chances were pretty good.

However, as SI’s deadline is nearly over, no word from them. ESPN publishes next week, but no word either from them despite the online galleries I provided the editors.

This is fine. I went to NYC for me. All this is for me. But when I see mediocre images in their magazines when I know there is other stuff out there, it makes me wonder. What’s going on?

The truth is that there are many chefs in the kitchen. And just like the newspaper I left, there’s tons of office politics. Skilled editors don’t always get to run what they want.

Then the issue becomes: how does a freelancer survive? Even a double-truck only pays $1,000. After expenses and taxes, I’d be looking at about a couple hundred bucks. And there obviously is no guarantee of publication.

One thing I worry about is that as the same old stuff (the safe shit) runs week after week, why would anyone try taking a chance on something different? How can a photographer taking the road less-traveled expect to make a living?

And I’m not saying my photos are so insanely wonderful. But I do know that kaijū has never been published in either sports magazine. Everyone I showed that video to immediately busted up laughing. So, where’s the love?

Again, that’s all beside the point. I had a blast and would go again in a heartbeat. In fact, I want to shoot this again. Maybe I can get a magazine to pony up the cash. Or maybe not. It’s their loss.

After the bout, I went to an organizer and thanked him for helping create one of the funnest photo ops I’ve ever had.