The Magic Happens: the Golf/Tennis/Pool Paradigm in Photography

Here's one really flat-out great thing about photography as a hobby. By way of explanation-by-analogy, permit me to open with one of my patented digressions.

A number of years ago, when the best center in basketball was Shaquille O'Neal, I realized with swelling pride and a fair amount of amazement that I was just as good as Shaq.

...At free throws. During one particularly bad game, I read in the papers that Shaq hit two out of ten. Well, I can hit two out of ten free throws, my brothers, my sisters. Seriously I can. Just like Shaq did, I can pour one in for every five tries or so. That's how good I am. 

(Well, that's how good I was. I can't say I've shot a basketball more than, I don't know, eight times in this, erm, millennium.)

Lest you think I am cherrypicking, I will have you know that I was actually rather good at set shots, unguarded, from beyond the three-point line. For what reason I do not know. But I was. Shaquille O'Neal? One three-pointer in his entire NBA career. Uno. Me vs. Shaq? I like me. Give me nineteen years in the NBA like Shaq had and I would roll, I would rock, I would rage, I would dom-in-ate—I bet I could double, triple, even quadruple Shaq's total of three-pointers. (Because, you know, they'd be leaving me unguarded on account of what a threat I'd be.) I want a piece of that man's paycheck.

Golf: Once, playing alone at Pine Hill golf course near Pellston, Michigan, I stood at a tee on, yes, a hill, facing a distant green surrounded with, yes! pine trees, and realized that, even though it was a par-three hole, it was a long par-three hole, and there was no way I was going to reach that little tiny green way over there in one shot, so I might as well not try. Assuming I'd reach the green in two, I took a relaxed, easy swing with my trusty three-wood, which I used in place of a driver. Imagine how startled I was, how astonished, when the clubhead seemed barely to touch the ball, and the ball jumped off the club face with a crisp little tock! and sailed in a soaring arc through the air for what seemed like a minute, landed on the green, and bounded and ran another twenty feet or so to end up mere inches from the cup. What?! Wait, I know! I'm secretly great at this game, that must be the explanation for that! Yep, that must be it. Did you see that?

I looked around, hoping someone had, well, seen that. No one had. That's what happens when you play alone on a weekday.

But it turned out I really was great. I hit a shot just that good not even a year later, and an even better one a year after that. In fact I'm so good I probably averaged one completely impressive pro-level shot per year. (Sorta by accident, but hey, flukes count.)

It kept me coming back. Well, for a while. My secret greatness at golf turned out to be a very well-kept secret.

Tennis: The same sort of thing happened in tennis when I was a kid. Every now and then I would hit a shot so brilliant and blistering it was a creditable imitation of Jimmy Connors. (The great James Scott Connors was a big deal the last time I played much tennis. Get off my back, I'm old. So is Jimmy). Of course, you could argue that almost every shot Jimmy Connors played (except the few he flubbed) were as good as, well, Jimmy Connors shots, but that only about one out of every two or three thousand of my shots approached his standard. You could argue that, but I would be ignoring you, recalling my admittedly rare achievements through a Rose #3 filter.

Pool: Finally, regarding pool, I used to occasionally post a "Your Shot of the Day," which featured great pool shots. No one here likes pool, though, so I don't do those any more. But if I did, I might perhaps post this fun shot by Jeff De Luna of the Philippines during the World Cup of Pool finals this year between the Philippines and Austria.

The game is Scotch Doubles 9-ball. Jeff must hit the blue 2 ball, and is trying a long bank off the short rail. But as he's getting set, the 30-second clock is winding down (you can see the progress bar in red in the lower left-hand corner of the screen), and he calls for a time extension. But oh no! he's forgotten that his teammate Carlo Biado already used their one extension for that rack a few turns earlier. As time runs down to the buzzer the ref quickly tells him he hasn't got an extension. So you could see what happens for yourself, I might, in the old days, have embedded the video, like this:

...But since I don't do any of that any more, I'll just mention that I'm quite good at those long banks off the rail, and have hit shots like that many times. (They're not actually as hard as they look.)

Anyway, my theory is that this is what keeps people playing sports like these: It's because every now and then they hit a magnificent shot that's as good as it can possibly be, as good as a pro could do, as good as someone famous could do, as good as they see on TV. So they know the feeling. The only difference for us amateurs is that we do it less often. Sometimes far less often, admittedly, but still...we admire the greats and the pros because we identify.

The parallel to photography must be obvious to you by now. The fine, fun, fantastic fact is this:

No matter what stage of development you're in, no matter what kind of equipment you have, no matter what your level of innate talent, no matter how consistent or inconsistent you are, you're going to take a really great shot every now and then if you keep at it. Snapshooters do it; long-time Leicaphiles do it; phone snappers do it; view-camera sheet-film shooters do it; in fact, anyone who enjoys using a camera regularly will do it. It's not even the old principle that "a blind squirrel finds an acorn every now and then," either, because it's part of the way photography works. We're all out there waiting for the magic to happen. The great art photographer Sally Mann once told me that she "never knows where that next great shot is coming from," she only knows it's out there. An acquaintance showed me her daughter's phone snap of her granddaughter not long ago, and I said, "That's a great photograph." (It was, too. I should know, I told her, I'm an expert.)

Moments of greatness are not denied to anyone, when you think of it. Get out, shoot, shoot some more, maybe some more after that, and sooner or later, or perhaps later than that, the reward will come. The magic happens, like a gift from the Universe. When it does it's just a great big kick, one satisfying treat. It's one of the best things about photographing. Keeps us coming back.

Damn, I'm inspiring myself. I gotta get outside!

Mike

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(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Gordon Lewis: "Great analogy, Mike. I just think you should have mentioned the obvious corollary: The difference between pros and most amateurs is that the pro is expected to perform at a high level consistently, even under adverse conditions, whereas the amateur can be satisfied with only occasional flashes of brilliance. Another hopefully encouraging thought is that the best photographers are careful not to show their out-takes, while we ourselves are all too aware of our own. Make a consistent practice of editing the wheat from the chaff and you're likely to feel a lot better about your work."

John Fleming: "Any time you want to post a 'Your shot of the day' please feel free. I enjoy these very much and, oddly, I was looking at a couple of these just yesterday as I had saved your links to them."

John Camp: "You're absolutely correct about all of this. I've played golf for a long time, and I once remarked to a fellow golfer that every single time I go out, I hit a shot that Tiger Woods would have taken at the height of his career—roll in a 20-foot putt, chip to a couple of inches, etc. But that 'doing it all the time' thing is the big catch in life."

Speed: "My favorite lucky shots are the ones I don't even remember taking. They make up for all the great shots that weren't."

Richard Skoonberg: "One of the great art photographers, whom I have had a chance to work with, Chip Simone, talks about finding the 'gift of the day' when he goes out shooting. Truly no one knows where that next great image is going to be found. It is a gift."

Comments

[Eric Rose]

We are like so many monkeys with typewriters.

[Mike]

There's one difference in your examples from other disciplines, at least for me: knowing when a photo actually IS great.

Perhaps I just don't get it. I read photography books and look at some photos, and I think "Are you kidding me? This is a great photo?"

Of course, sometimes I look at a photo and I see its greatness.

Because of this, my permanent, lingering fear, is that I'm rejecting and deleting a photo of my own that actually is great, even though I can't see it.

Mike

[Andrew Wallace]

You might be good, MJ, but I can boast a genuine 100% record at clay shooting. Every shot I've ever taken has been a hit! On my first attempt, first barrel, I hit the target. So I handed the gun back and have never fired another shot!
It's a very different story to my shutter finger. I know some might survey the photographic target, find the best viewpoint and composition, wait for the best light or decisive moment and then shoot. The might end up with 5/10 good shots for the day. I'm resigned to spending time editing 200 shots for the day. I need to shoot as I work the viewpoints, the subjects, the light and compositions. The feedback from that takes me in directions I would not go if I stood and contemplated. It might be more of a scatter-gun approach but the result will be around 5/200. But my 5, I believe, will very different to a contemplative 5, for better or worse.

[Robert Roaldi]

Way to cure any self-esteem issues! Maybe there's some money in motivational speaking for you out there?

In one of his podcast series Malcolm Gladwell did a story about a basketball player who upped his free-throw percentage by a large amount by heaving the ball underhanded, you know, the way a grandma would. But he reverted to his old style because he couldn't stand the shame. Peer pressure was more important than actually scoring points. I can't remember which season of the Revisionist History podcast that was in. I'll try to find it and send you the link. It's a fascinating story and I don't even like basketball.

[bokeh]

You didn't mention that sometimes brilliant scenes create mediocre photographs and simple little scenes sometimes create brilliant photographs.

[c.d.embrey]

T̶r̶i̶x̶ games are for kids, silly rabbit. Winning isn't everything, it's the only thing. Put another way, second place is first loser.

Who aspires to be a loser? Not me. I have a tin ear, therefore my only musical instrument is a drum-machine.

[Bruce Alan Greene]

I've got a secret. I'm one of those photographers, who, once in a while, hits a great shot, right on the green, next to the hole. Not in golf actually, but with a darned good photograph.

My secret is that I don't show... all the lousy shots. Just the one's like "the pros" :)

But if you think about it, maybe many of the most admired photographers couldn't have competed in a photography tournament. And it doesn't matter. As long as the photographer just keeps showing the best photographs...

[John Krumm]

I've saw a "natural" in photography when I taught a middle school group. She just picked up the camera and knew how to look through the viewfinder and find something way more visually interesting than any other student. She was not good at editing, lacked discipline, and had other issues sure to make any pursuit a challenge, but her eye was far better than mine.

[MikeR]

Good thing you didn't start the day on the driving range. (Or, did you?) That's where the best drives go to die.

[Michael]

Mike it's debatable that you can claim a shot in pool/golf/basketball etc is great if you don't understand how it was accomplished,can't repeat it consistently and under match conditions.
However with photography it really doesn't matter how a great shot was achieved, it's still a great shot and may not be repeatable as the moment may never occur again.

[Tom Hassler]

I believe the old saw is, "Every now and then, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn."

[RC Harrison]

The parallel to photography has one caveat: simply that identifying the great shot in photography is not as simple as identifying the great shot in basketball/golf/pool etc. If a three pointer goes in, nobody can argue about the success of that shot. It takes a lot more time and many more eyes for somebody to get a rounded opinion on the success of a photo.

Personally, I've found the more engaged I've been with photography, the bigger the gap between my pace of growth in identifying greatness in photos and my pace of growth in the ability to make them. In other words, I become better but less satisfied. Maybe that happens for some in sport too?

[Rick in CO]

Mike, I couldn't care less about any of the sports/games you mentioned. Of course, anyone taking numerous pictures can spontaneously end up with a good one. Occasionally. So then, what makes the 'Great Photographers', those whom we worship, so great?

[Well, not all of them are for every one of us, eh? I have my favorites and then there are people with substantial careers and followings who leave me cold and who I don't care a fig about. Really a matter of personal chemistry, isn't it? Like our reaction to music or sexual attractiveness, it's all relative and it's all personal.

However more to your point, I sometimes say that professionals are people who can get a B even on a deadline or under pressure, whereas art photographers get an A occasionally and C's or D's the rest of the time. It's kind of a joke, but there's a kernal of truth there. --Mike]

[beuler]

On the other hand we get to enjoy dreaming about equipment we will never own. Professionals are too well equipped to have that pleasure.

[gerard geradts]

When I started drawing, I learned that my mind tricks what I am seeing. When I take a photo, a similar thing happens. The tricking in my mind is then worsened, because the camera ‘sees’ differently. And then there is the workings of the brain of the person who is looking at a photograph.

[Not THAT Ross Cameron]

So one of these days I’m going to run faster than Usain Bolt. All it takes is once...
OK - that might be a tad facetious ;~)
But you still make a fair analogy, given the sports you mention require a high level of technical expertise, not just brute strength and speed. That’s not to say sprinting is without technique, just not the same degree.
As others have said before - thanks for the motivational post!

[Graham Byrnes]

Should you wish to diversify your cue-sports, you could try Loop:
http://www.loop-the-game.com/scoop/
It happens that some years back I had a chat with the world champion in my office, without evening knowing this particular point of his fame:
http://www.statslab.cam.ac.uk/~david/