Ken Griffey Jr. is one of the master photographers.
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Augusta, Georgia – Ken Griffey Jr.
He reached this position – 15 steps to the left of the flag – just a few seconds ago, with a pair of giant blunt weapons and a tenacious focus of the bomb technician. Below him, Justin Thomas tipped into a bright green bunker, disappearing under his lips.
Then, suddenly, a series of movements erupted in front of him, and Griffy reached forward-hold his breath, trained his eyes, and then took the trigger.
If you want to know what forces 630 home run owners to do sports photography, you only need those 15 seconds in Saturday’s Masters. Action at the intersection of expectations and focus? Game between people and themes? Opportunities to make art from violence? It turns out that Ken Griffey Jr. is still good at these things. The venue may have changed, but he never stopped beating meatballs.
The journey from 13 All-Star games to the Masters’ Photo Room is surprisingly simple. Griffey rose early in the hotel room and drove to the game venue, gathered a mission from his editor Bob Martin, and started the golf course of the day. He carries a Sony Alpha 1 camera body with two large lenses, one with 400mm and 600mm. He doesn’t eat it.
He tried to keep a low profile on the golf course, although it was sometimes difficult due to his reputation. Griff’s 6-foot-3 rope was shocking due to the thick rope that stretched from his shoulders to his wrist, but his speech was light and keen wit.
On Saturday, he wore a black polo, black pants and a white hat in a sleeveless black jacket. He travels with Master Content staff, who packs a backpack with a battery, memory card and a monopod. Griffie was quiet and serious when he wasn’t disturbed by the customers – at least with a little daunting.
“I’m actually a low guy on the totem pole,” he said. “I’m still picking it up. If you don’t want to learn, then your photos won’t get better.”
Griffey, 55, stepped on the camera for the first time and entered his career in front of the camera. He started taking pictures shortly after his 35th birthday, largely due to the violent attacks of the blessingers who began to distract him from the sporting events of his children. His children Trey and Tevin (two boys) were never a problem, but his daughter Taryn was different.
“The boys are looking for mom,” he said. “But the girls are looking for dad. They want to make sure dad is paying attention.”
Griffi knew this feeling. His father, Ken Sr., Ken Jr.
He wanted to be there for his kids, but now the kid himself is a famous player, watching the cycle repeat.
“It’s my fault,” he said. “I know how important it is to get my father’s recognition because I want it. I want my father to see me, sometimes it happens, but most of the time, not as a kid.”
He tried cameras for the kids, but he learned how to like taking pictures. He loves shooting cars and learns action photography from participating in competitions. When a friend in Orlando who was in contact with the Masters learned that Griffey also received golf, he got in touch with Augusta National, which quickly expanded the kid’s job opportunities. It was Griffey’s most attractive job opportunity in post-life, but he paused before accepting.
“When you hear you’re going to shoot for the Masters, you want to say yes quickly,” he said. “But you think, oh, I need to do something.”
He arrived nervously. Griffey stipulated that he did not want to be different from other photographers of the photo pen, and Augusta National agreed. The problem is that the photo pen is the murderer of the greatest sports photographer. Griffey is a glorious amateur – he feels.
“If you’re not professional and everyone here is a professional life, then it doesn’t matter what your life is, and you’re still nervously walking into the room,” Griffey said. “How would I feel if we were all stuck in a batting cage and I was criticizing them? It’s the same thing.”
“It doesn’t matter what your life is,” said Griffey Jr. “It’s still nervous to walk into the room.”
Ben Jared
The other day was a challenge. At Griffey’s urging, Martin sees him as equal. He was assigned a stall at the news center and gave photos to all other match shooters. Martin performs actual tasks every day and is not afraid of unwavering criticism or total rejection of Griffe’s photos.
“One thing I learned is the background,” Griffey said. “Your background is crucial. If your background is great and your theme is there, then your photos are great. If you have a nice photo in the foreground, but your background is blown out, you don’t have a good photo.”
Griffey’s efforts to blend were futile and to no avail. He is Anomaly photographer with any objective measurestaller, rougher, and more famous than any good friend in his photo pen. He was filled with fans, wherever they went, whether it was a sports writer in the news building or a patron at Amen Corner. He handles every interaction gracefully, but there is a clear tension between the 30,000 fans’ back cats and the quiet focus needed to deliver world-class photos.
However, as the week progressed, Griffey Jr.’s confidence grew. He grabbed the wonderful shot of Bernhard Langer from the side of the 18th Green on Friday – he was in the “perfect position” – quickly uploaded to the Masters website. From the side of the second hole on Saturday morning, his goal is no longer to get a good shot, but a Great one.
“I’m going to get straight to the bunker,” he said. “Bob wants green, he wants white, from the sand that comes out of the bunker.”
He stopped.
“That’s what we’re going to get.”
Bernhard Langer and his wife hugged after the final Masters.
Ken Griffey Jr.
I was shocked by Griffey’s humility as we spoke on Saturday morning. He won’t be the best photographer in Augusta National. In fact, he might be the worst, but that’s no shame. He studied here and became better, try.
This helped Griffie’s self to be, he made more money than God and played in the All-Star Games in the half year I walked the planet, but in many ways, his reputation is why he strives to be so inspiring. It is hard to be vulnerable and scared when you give anonymous grace – it becomes harder and harder when you don’t enjoy anonymous grace.
He seemed confused when I wondered how Griffey controlled the fear of failure.
“I mean, I’ve been like this since I was a kid,” he said. “I learned how to fly a plane. I got a pilot license at 36. I learned to dive at 30.
Suddenly, I thought that Griffi’s master promise might be more than photography. The reason why he wanted to devote himself to the people of Augusta’s nationals made him dislike taking photos was, of course, not to spend a week as a celebrity. It’s about scratching deeper itch.
“I try not to let my children beat me Anything,” he said with a smile. “Yes, I’m still competitive – I’m having some trouble in the house. ”
In trouble…Why?
“Golf, tennis, pickles – any,” he said. “It has nothing to do with the greatness of the movement. Competitiveness is the fun part. ”
At that time, I laughed seriously at Griffi’s comments and three hours later I laughed again when I found him storming into Amen Corner after Hideki Matsuyama.
As Matsuyama walks on the 3rd 12-straight T-shirt, I watch Griffey jump action-slides on the trees on the right ropeline, dozens of Oggling fans of the past, into the photographer’s pen. He looked calm and comfortable,…is this a hint of determination?
He kneeled as he constructed the shot, his white Nike hat swayed slightly above the crowd until everything became quiet and still.
Then, in the most famous hole in golf, Ken Griffey Jr. squeezed the trigger and tried again.
You can contact the author at james.colgan@golf.com
James Colgan is Golf news and writes stories for websites and magazines. He manages the media verticals of popular microphones, golf, and leverages his camera experience on the brand platform. Before joining golf, James graduated from Syracuse University, during which time he was a caddie scholarship recipient (and Astute looper) from Long Island, where he came from. He can be contacted at james.colgan@golf.com.
