I had an assignment this week to shoot LPGA six-year veteran Brittany Lincicome competing against the men on the NGA Hooters Tour during their Winter Series event at Deer Island Country Club in Tavares, Fla. Lincicome was teeing off at 8:06 a.m., which doesn’t seem to bad until looking at the map. Deer Island is an hour from anywhere resembling anything other than the setting from a Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings novel. I figured that I could always catch Lincicome at the turn closer to 10:00 or 11:00 a.m. as the assignment suggested. She wouldn’t be hard to find. How many long blond pony-tails could be teeing them up on the Hooters tour that morning? We were also experiencing unseasonably cold and foggy weather, especially for Central Florida. Granted, our temperatures were only dipping into the 40′s. Compared to the blizzard and white-out conditions the rest of the deep South was experiencing that morning, I couldn’t rationalize delaying my departure due to moderately cool temperatures. Most importantly, I recalled a blog post I had read in 2009 by renowned photographer and film maker Vincent LaForet:
“One of the best lessons I learned from him (there were many) is that while we were all drowning our sorrows late into the night (the press corps in Pakistan) mostly due to the overwhelming emotion / frustration / fear & uncertainty that followed 9/11/01 – Nachtwey would quietly decline to join us – going to bed early (or likely working on a book layout now looking back at what I know of his crazy work ethic.) By the time we were waking up to horrible light and hangovers – he was walking back into the lobby of the hotel… no matter how good you are, how developed your eye and vision are - discipline and adherence to the following axiom: “The early bird gets the worm…” helps even Mr. Nachtwey… “
It’s such a simple concept, “The early bird….,” yet so often and easily ignored. To continually reaffirm to myself that I do not possess or encompass that of the lazy and unmotivated, laden with excuses of why the light is bad, the moments are lame, and backgrounds are busy, I set the alarm for 5:30 a.m. and trekked deep into the Central Florida swamps to find me a strong, sturdy, blond that out drives many a man with a 264.7 driving average. I read later on Lincicome’s Twitter feed that she too was staggering from the early rise.
I kept telling myself along the way that the fog and early morning light would be well worth the trip. The scenery into the club was stunningly beautiful. I even thought that if you didn’t need a private plane just to get home, it would be a great place to live. However, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the brilliant golden sunrise breaking through the ethereal clouds I had envisioned in my mind was just that; my imagination. The skies more closely resembled that of an old Kodak gray card. When I worked in Northeast Ohio, we had soft silver light from heavy overcast sometimes 8 months out of the year. I was so starved for shadow and highlights, I salivated at the thought of harsh noon light on a hot summer day. Working in Florida is a completely different story. The light this particular morning was dull. But it was also brilliantly silver. Colors were muted, but beautifully monochromatic. At least I kept telling myself this because I drove out there at the crack of dawn!
Lincicome and her coach, Nick Frontero, were both gracious and welcoming as I explained that I would be spending the morning with them. For the first eight holes, I was the only person with their group, along with her two playing partners, Jay Whitby and Zach Sucher.
Around 10:30, as she neared the turn, a few reporters and writers showed up. Then another photographer. All of a sudden she had a small gallery of fans who lived along the course riding along in their carts as well. There goes my clean backgrounds. The players continued to play as though nothing had changed, but I knew that the intimacy which I had enjoyed for the past two hours was gone. In a few of my final frames, I began to see a harsh opaque shadow crawl across her face, hiding the tenacity and determination and subtle insecurities she so aptly described as the motivation to play against men while preparing for the upcoming LPGA tour and season. It was at that moment that I envisioned myself walking back into my own symbolic hotel leaving the harsh light and busy backgrounds for the others to feed upon.
Another great quote I strive to adhere to daily is not only at least partially responsible for my recent knee surgery, but also the ruination of my entire wardrobe is “Good photographers have dirty knees.” I’m not sure who originally coined the phrase, but I do believe it is universally accepted as necessary to obtain better pictures and vantage points. I have come to embrace the stains on the knees of my pants as merit badges of effort in the endeavor to make a different, better photograph.
For the frame above, I quickly noticed as we made our way to the next tee box that the flanking cedar trees would serve as an excellent framing device from behind. Since this was the Hooters tour, and not the LPGA, I figured I would be safe to fire off a frame or two in her back swing. As Brittany lineup up and hit her tee shot, I was overjoyed that none of the other golfers walked into the frame ruining what I hoped would be one of my better pictures of the day. As I swiftly returned to my cart with a greater sense of satisfaction, I realized that while kneeling down to clean up my horizon line, I planted my knee deep into a fresh warm pile of dog feces! We have to deal with a lot of sh*t in this business, but this I wasn’t expecting…
The moral of the story is: Get high, get low, but look before you kneel!

































