shutout

I was absolutely overjoyed to get the chance to photograph the Blunder Birds, one of the top teams in the NHL. Their first game of the season is this Thursday, I had to pack and prepare in a massive rush; I had to be there Wednesday to set up, and time was running out.

I meticulously organized my gear, checking off Essential Lenses like my 70-200mm f/2.8 to ensure I could Freeze the Action at high shutter speeds. Once my cameras, clothes, and extra batteries were stowed, I realized I was far too wired to sleep. I ended up pulling an all-nighter, frantically texting my best friend, Lainey, about how thrilled I was, even though I knew she wouldn’t reply until morning.

The night dragged on in a blur of anticipation, but I finally made it to the airport at 4:00 AM for my 5:00 AM flight. After fueling up with a quick breakfast and plenty of water, I sat by the gate scrolling through my laptop to review Hockey Photography Tips one last time. My only carry-ons were my laptop and a heavily padded camera bag, my most prized possessions.

When I finally boarded the plane an hour later, I could hardly sit still. As I buckled my seatbelt, I was practically squirming with excitement, already imagining the perfect shot through the Photo Holes in the Glass.

Time felt like it went by in a blur of nervous anticipation. When the plane finally touched down, I practically bolted to baggage claim, eyes peeled for my oversized suitcase. I slung my camera bag over my shoulder, balancing my gear as I rolled my luggage out of the terminal. Right at the curb, I spotted the car sent to ferry me to the arena, a sleek black SUV that felt far too fancy for a rookie like me. I hoisted my suitcase into the trunk and sank into the back seat, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Iris Hawthorne?” the driver asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

“That’s me!” I replied, unable to stop the massive grin from spreading across my face.

“I’ll drop you off right at the arena entrance,” he said with a friendly smile, merging back into traffic. “I’ll take your suitcase ahead to the hotel so you don’t have to lug it around.”

I nodded, my mind already racing through Camera Settings and Shutter Speeds as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone. I was so deep in thought that I jumped when the driver announced, “We’re here, Ma’am!”

“Thank you so much!” I gathered my gear, checking one last time that my 70-200mm f/2.8 lens was secure. I walked through the heavy arena doors, and almost immediately, the photography manager for the Blunder Birds spotted me.

“Iris, is it?” He walked over with an easy confidence, hand extended. “It’s wonderful to have you! I’ve heard you’re a natural with the lens.”

“Oh! Yes, I try my best,” I said, shaking his hand firmly. “You’re the manager, I take it?”

“You are indeed correct, Miss Hawthorne. Well, let’s get you set up at your Photo Hole, it’s the best seat in the house for tomorrow’s game. Follow me.” He led the way down toward the gleaming, freshly-shaved ice, and I followed, bubbling with excitement and ready to capture every High-Speed Play.

I reached my designated spot, a prime position right against the boards. Other photographers were already staking out their territory around the rink, adjusting their monopods and prepping their gear. I set my heavy bag down with a focused thud and began swapping to my 70-200mm f/2.8 lens, the industry standard for Capturing High-Speed Hockey Action.

I was deep in my menus, dialing in a High Shutter Speed to freeze the spray of the ice, when a rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack caught my attention. I looked up to see the Blunder Birds hitting the ice for a morning skate. The air suddenly turned cold and crisp as they began their ritual: snapping pucks into the twine, carving deep grooves into the fresh sheet, and stretching against the boards.

One player stood out, though not just for his skating. He was barking commands at a group of teammates near the blue line, his posture radiating a certain arrogant confidence. I could tell just by the way he carried his stick that he was the cocky one of the bunch.

The photography manager drifted back toward me, noticing my gaze. “That right there is Brooks Hayes, the team captain,” he whispered, leaning against the glass. “I’d make sure to capture him well. He’s... let’s say, particular about his photos. A real pain in the neck if he doesn’t like the angle, but just ignore the ego.” He gave me a knowing nudge and a grin.

“I can see that from all the way over here,” I replied, adjusting my Exposure Compensation to handle the glare of the white ice. “I’ll do the best I can, but if he doesn’t like the shots, he can just kick rocks!”

The manager let out a genuine chuckle. “I love that attitude, Miss Hawthorne. Well, after this practice session, make sure you Study the Roster. It’s best to know their playing styles before the puck drops. Have fun!”

“Will do!” I smiled, finally locking in my AF-C Focus Settings and raising the viewfinder to my eye, ready to see if Captain Hayes lived up to the hype.