KANNAPOLIS — It’s an annual event at the Salisbury Post that’s nearly as
exciting and yes, nerve-wracking, as the “Running of the Bulls” in Pamplona,
Spain.It’s the running
down of eight football teams in Rowan, Cabarrus, Davie and Stanly counties.
Some time between the first day of
football practice and the appearance of the Post’s annual football edition roughly
two weeks later, eight high school teams, dozens of coaches and hundreds of players must
be rounded up, herded into line, photographed as teams and individuals, identified and
scanned into the Post’s computers with correct numbers and (with lots of luck)
correctly spelled names.
It’s a task just a bit easier
than landing on the moon. Somehow, however, the Post’s photographers (with an
occasional assist from the sports personnel) always manage to get the job done.
The Post rarely establishes the
times and venues of the photo shoots. Instead, it merely tries to show up at the correct
time and the proper place with a camera when school officials schedule picture-taking for
football programs and yearbooks.
The Post’s passive role in
deciding the whens and wheres of Picture Day can lead to considerable anxiety.
Take this year, for instance.
That’s when South Rowan, West Rowan and North Rowan all decided Saturday morning,
August 7, was the ideal occasion for P-Day.
Undaunted, veteran Post
photographer No. 1 calmly reeled in the Raiders at 8, then sped to Spencer to corral the
Cavaliers at 10.
In between, Post photographer No.
2, a newcomer who had just signed up and likely didn’t know exactly what he was
getting into, stepped into the breach and snapped the grinning gridders from West at 9.
But even after putting those three
schools in the “done” file, the weekend was far from over.
There was still A.L. Brown with
which to deal. Wonder athletics director and head football coach Bruce Hardin had
requested —just a bit sheepishly — that his team’s pictures be taken care
of on Sunday, the 8th, at 3 p.m.
Hardin’s logic was
inescapable even to a Post sports staff that is not exactly brimming with Mr. Spocks.
When you try to practice football
on the same day you take pictures, there are inevitable delays, inevitable distractions
and inevitable confusion. And, inevitably, a lousy practice.
And Hardin likes lousy practices
about as much as he likes spiders, snakes and tooth decay.
So Hardin decided not to take
pictures on a standard practice day. He would take care of that necessary bit of business
on an off-day. That meant Sunday.
The projected “Sunday
Shoot” by the Wonders was a frequently discussed subject at the Post last week.
A Post reporter from Kannapolis
finally got in the last word: “Well, football is a religion down there,’’
she said. “Sunday’s the perfect day.”
The neophyte photographer —
who had received his baptism of fire at West and somehow survived — drew the A.L.
Brown assignment. I was asked to go along to provide moral support, logistical advice and
to help find coach Hardin’s twin sons — receiver Blair and quarterback Justin
—for an extra picture for the football edition. How hard could that be? They were the
two that looked alike, I reasoned.
Anyway, the photographer and I
arrived right on time in glistening, green-and-white Memorial Stadium — home of the
Wonders.
We were greeted by a boiling sun,
camera-toting parents (the Wonders drew 200 fans for the first day of practice; they drew
another 50 for picture day), wide-eyed jayvees and coach Hardin.
“Just the right day for
this,” exclaimed the coach, looking as excited as a kid at Christmas as he wiped
sweat from his 54-year-old brow. “Too hot to fish and not a darned thing on TV.”
To Coach Hardin, there is nothing
on TV unless Notre Dame is playing football, but that’s beside the point.
Fifteen minutes after we arrived,
the jayvees were on their merry way. And the varsity players, like the well-drilled
machine they usually are, marched into place, lining up by height and stood at attention
for the team photo.
So far, so good.
But when the Wonders broke out for
individual shots, boys decided to be boys.
“No. 2 Booker up to bat; No.
3 Anthony on deck,” Hardin hollers helpfully.
But it’s no use. No Wonder
can get his picture taken without first cracking up under the ridicule of a dozen teasing
and taunting teammates.
“That’s sort of a
tradition, I guess,” Hardin explains, shaking his head. “But I sure do like
these kids.”
‘“Even when they’re
being kids,” he adds, as yet another Wonder doubles over with laughter in front of
the cameras.
Finally, though, Hardin has seen
enough. “Let’s get this done, guys,” he barks, switching suddenly to his
best drill-sergeant voice. “All right, let’s go, let’s go.”
That does the trick. The Wonders
respond to “the voice” and shape up instantly. Individual shots are completed in
record time. Then the players sprint into place for pictures by position, and then by
class.
Finally, for the Post crew,
it’s just a matter of tracking down the Hardin boys to complete the day’s
duties.
Serious Justin is an easy target.
Blair, a comedian who’s in constant motion — wrestling teammates and tossing
footballs — is a bit tougher chore. Eventually, however, Blair is lassoed and dragged
in front of the lens next to Justin.
“What should we do?”
Blair’s inquiring mind wants to know.
“Just carry on a
conversation,” they are instructed.
Blair talks animatedly. Justin
listens.
Then, a few seconds later, bored
of small talk with his brother, Blair, still grinning at the camera, starts drawing
complex plays in the dirt. Then, for his coup de grace, he points skyward, performing a
creditable impression of Mark McGwire after belting a homer.
Dad, meanwhile, takes it all in.
“Kids, I like ’em,”
he repeats, to no one in particular. “Don’t know for sure if I can coach
’em, but I sure do like ’em.”
We know you like ’em, Coach.
And you can still coach ’em, too. You’ve still got “the voice.”
Even on a Sunday.
Mike London is the assistant
sports editor of the Post. |
Today's News
