40 years of photographing pro football

 

The irony of being a high school football bench warmer is I’ve spent more time on pro football fields than any of the super studs I backed up on the depth charts. 

In my three years as a very scrawny lineman for the Niwot High School Cougars, I played in 10 varsity plays, six of those in one game that was already a blowout. Several of my teammates aspired to play college ball and maybe someday go pro. I never played anything other than intramural flag football in college, but I did make it to the pros – as a photographer. 

May 19 is the 40th anniversary of my first professional game. It was a USFL game between the Denver Gold and the New Jersey Generals played at Mile High Stadium before 29,139 fans. Denver won the game 28-24, beating a team owned by Donald Trump and featuring Heisman Trophy winners Doug Flutie at quarterback and running back Herschel Walker.

I covered the game while working on my college internship as a sports writer/photographer. I wasn’t assigned to cover the game. I did it because I wanted to. I asked, and no one told me no. I did the same thing again three years later at my first newspaper job in Minnesota. I made my NFL debut when I photographed a preseason game between the Miami Dolphins and the Minnesota Vikings. I was thrilled to be there around the likes of coach Don Shula and quarterback Dan Marino. 

In 1991, I was working as an editor in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, and photographed a game of the Raleigh-Durham Skyhawks in the fledgling World League of American Football. That made three pro games in three pro leagues. That fall I had the opportunity to photograph my beloved Denver Broncos in a game against the Phoenix Cardinals. Denver won the game 24-19 behind the arm of quarterback John Elway. I got to experience what it was like to get hit by one of his passes that he threw out of bounds. Ouch! 

Years later after moving to Texas I took advantage of opportunities to photograph a couple preseason games of the Houston Texans. The first was against the Buccaneers and the next against my Broncos. It wasn’t until I became the editor of the Fort Bend Star in 2016 that the world of professional sports was thrown wide open for me.

I became a season credentialled photographer with the Houston Texans and the Sugar Land Skeeters, an independent league baseball team that is now the Space Cowboys and the Triple-A affiliate of the Houston Astros. I also got to photograph many Astros games, including the World Series in 2019.

Photographing professional football, however, is a lifelong dream and something I enjoy doing very much. A lot of regular fans, players and others recognize me as the cowboy photographer because I usually wear my cowboy hat on the sidelines. My friend Bill McCaughey and I have been covering the Texans and the UFL’s Houston Roughnecks since then. He writes the stories, and I take the photos. The Eagle makes the fourth newspaper we’ve done this for, and we remain humbly grateful for the opportunity to keep doing it.

I often get asked what it’s like to be on the sidelines of an NFL game. In short, it’s a thrill. There is nothing like being there where all the action takes place. I usually arrive an hour or two early and circle the field during warmups, not so much to watch the players, but to interact with fans, staff, security guards, etc. I’ve made a lot of friends that way over the years. I don’t get to interact much with players and coaches, but some of them recognize me and say hi.

I’ve become friends with Andrew Johnson, the guy who plays TORO the mascot. Then there is Randy, Ryan, and the others on his support team. They’re a hoot! I’m friends with four of the last five Texans Fan of the Year winners. The fans who get dressed up and rarely miss a game are some of the most fun-loving, passionate, and compassionate people I know. They take their love of the game to a new level and often volunteer at team and charity events.

Another group of people I get asked about are the cheerleaders. I’ve gotten to know a lot of them over the years. I’ve come to see them in a different light and have a lot of respect for them. Yes, they add a lot of sex appeal to the game, but the girls are not the airheaded bimbos that some would make them out to be.

Most of them are smart, college educated professionals working in many high-skill jobs. They are generally more physically fit than most of the players and they exert more physical effort on gameday than the players do.

This Saturday I will be at the Roughnecks game in Houston when they host the Michigan Panthers. It somehow seems fitting that I started my football career 40 years ago photographing USFL teams and, unless the Texans grant me credentials again, this is potentially my last pro football game, appropriately featuring a former USFL team.

I hope my pro football photography career continues for a long time, but you never know. I was always able to cover these games because I sought out the opportunity and no one said no. It’s proof that if you pursue your dreams and passions that they can and will come true. The point is unless you ask, the answer will always be no. “Yes” sounds really good to me!

A message to Mom on Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

I know it has been a long time since we’ve spoken. The last thing you said to me was “I love you.” I’ve never forgotten that.

It’s kinda hard to put into words how I feel with Mother’s Day coming tomorrow. I’ve been incredibly blessed to have you as my mother. You were my first love. You were my rock and the glue that held our family together. Yet another Mother’s Day will go by, and I will not visit. I will not call. I won’t send cards or flowers. I hope you understand.

All I can do is write these words and hope that someday, somehow, they will reach you. Tomorrow I will spend Mother’s Day with my wife. I will call Dad’s new wife, whom I call Mom, and wish her a happy Mother’s Day.

I don’t recall the last time I celebrated Mother’s Day with you. Regretfully, we had some rocky times there for a while. You didn’t exactly get along well with Sandy and you were often critical of our parenting styles. I know you hated it when we moved from Colorado to Texas, but it was for the best.

I can’t help but think you would be pleased with how things have gone since we last spoke to each other. I think you would really like Barbara, Dad’s new wife. She is really amazing and takes good care of Dad. They travel a lot and have visited many countries together. She is a very pleasant, upbeat person and is incredibly strong in our faith. The impact she has had on Dad and our family has been astounding.

I also can’t help but think how proud you would be of Sandy. She has overcome so much and has become an incredible woman. She may have been a diamond in the rough when we left you, but you should see her sparkle now! Since we parted, Sandy has gone on to get her master’s degree in healthcare administration and has had several big promotions at work and is thriving in her job. She also does a great job of managing our little farm.

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, we have a hobby farm now. We have 25 chickens, eight ducks and a goose. We hope to add rabbits later this year. And we have a huge garden, bigger than the one we had when I was growing up.

I think you would be very happy with the way our children turned out. Colton graduated from Texas A&M University this week with a degree in psychology. He’s looking to go to grad school. Luke is thriving as an auto mechanic and Wesley is a machinist. Heather works for Amazon and just moved back to Colorado from Washington. She has her own business on the side making keychains out of her amazing artwork.

I’ve been very blessed to have a terrific mother-in-law. Sandy’s mother is very much like a mom to me. She is a woman of faith and has a kind and caring heart. She takes great care of Sandy’s father with his health issues. It’s not easy, but she soldiers on with a servant’s heart.

Mom, when I look back at my childhood, I can see how much love and devotion you showed me and my brothers. Don is gone now, but Chip and I treasure you. We always knew that if we wanted something to ask you first. You rarely told us no or told us to ask Dad. When you did tell us to ask Dad, we knew that was code for you wanting to say yes but needing to say no.

I want to thank you for all the $10 and $20 bills you slipped me on the side in high school and college so I could put gas in my car or go on a date. And when I returned home with Heather in my 30s after my first marriage ended, you took good care of us. I was a wreck but you held me together while God mended the broken pieces.

It has been 11 years since we last were together. I remember that day as we gathered around your hospital bed, praying and weeping as your life support was disconnected. The illness and your failing body were too much for you to overcome. You had a big, beautiful funeral. I think you would have liked it.

Even though you are in Heaven now, I still think of you nearly every day. I rejoice in your peace, cherish your love and hold your memory dear. You’ll be happy to know that all the moms that have taken over in my life are doing an outstanding job. They are every bit the blessing to me that you have been.

Rest in peace, Donna Jean Southern. And Happy Mother’s Day! 

Congratulations Colton on college graduation

 Somewhere in storage I still have the mortarboard from my college graduation along with most of the white tape I used to write the message “Now what?” on it.

It was 38 years ago when I graduated from Adams State College (now University) and I can still remember the mixed feelings of accomplishment and uncertainty that I felt. I was proud to become the first in my family to earn a four-year college degree. I was relieved to have my formal education behind me. I knew I was getting married in a couple months and moving to Minnesota, where my now ex-wife was living with her parents.

After that, now what? I had no job prospects. I didn’t know how I was going to put the next tank of gas in my car, let alone start a new life in a strange place with my new bride. On top of that, I broke my left hand playing catch with a football the day after graduation.

Those memories and feelings have come pouring back as we anticipate the graduation of our youngest son, Colton, from Texas A&M on May 8. Our four children have moved on; two with bachelor’s degrees and two with trade school certifications.

Graduation is an exciting time of life. It seems like we just held Colton’s high school graduation party not too long ago. In some ways it seems like a lifetime ago. In those four years that he has been an Aggie I have worked for three newspapers, done several temporary and part-time jobs, and we have relocated from Rosenberg to Brazos County.

Colton graduated 10th in his class at Terry High School. We combined his graduation party with his Eagle Scout Court of Honor. For years he had plans to come to A&M to get a degree in aerospace engineering and join the Corps of Cadets. Sandy and I were so proud of him when we left him in College Station to start this next chapter in his life.

We drank the maroon Kool-Aid and lived vicariously through his Corps experience. Then he punched, just three months after starting. The Corps was not for him, and he wanted a different direction in life than that of an engineer. That decision gutted Sandy and me and it took some time to come to grips with it because we had become so invested in his dream and so enamored with A&M and the Corps of Cadets. Colton, however, found immediate relief and changed his major to psychology.

We support his decision, and it turned out to be one of the best things he has done in his 22 years. He fully engaged in Aggies for Christ and other church related activities. He has matured into a man of profound character and faith with a heart for helping others. This summer he will be in Medina working with children at Arms of Hope, a ministry that helps single mothers get back on their feet, while he awaits word on his grad school applications.

Of course, I would be remiss if I failed to talk about Sandy and her heroic efforts to obtain her college degrees while raising our children. She had a nursing certificate when we met. Shortly after we married and blended our families together, she enrolled online at Adams State, earning her bachelor’s degree in business administration. Throughout those years she worked part-time, was busy raising babies and coping with other enormous stresses going on in our lives.

She then went on to earn her master’s degree in healthcare administration at Texas Women’s University while working full-time and parenting teen and pre-teen kiddos. She has since gone on to earn more certifications and has been steadily climbing the ladder at work, just recently earning a huge promotion!

The point of all of this is to say that steadfast determination and a refusal to quit pays big dividends. That would be my advice to Colton and his fellow graduates at Texas A&M as they move on after graduation. Success is a road paved with failures.

Stay true to yourself and to God and don’t let the naysayers have their way. No one can stop you except for yourself. You aren’t defeated until you quit. You will have to take some detours and suffer some setbacks in life but as long as you keep pursuing your dream you will succeed. Someday you will go from “Now what?” to “What’s next!”

Stop bullying at all levels

 I couldn’t be there in person, but please know that I was there in spirit on April 11 when a crowd gathered in front of the Bryan ISD Administration building to protest bullying in the school district.

It isn’t just the Bryan ISD; it’s any school district in the country. Bullying is a serious problem that has profound and long-lasting consequences. I know that from personal experience. I was relentlessly bullied in elementary school and junior high. It tapered off in high school, but continued into my early adult life.

It made me a coward. I developed very low self-esteem. I had no self-confidence, although I learned to fake it as I got older. When I reached my 30s, I came to understand bullying for what it is – a person of weak character trying to make themselves appear strong by putting down someone who is physically or emotionally smaller or more vulnerable.

I feared going to school. I knew it meant getting picked on by bullies. Worse, the teachers and staff did nothing about it. On those very rare occasions when I fought back, guess who got in trouble? To the teachers I was just a whiney little brat and a tattletale.

Over the years I have written quite a bit about anti-bullying programs in schools. I’ve also written about the unfortunate consequences of bullying. The situation has only gotten worse in the age of social media. Cyberbullying is horrifying and its digital imprint never goes away. It’s a leading cause of teenage suicide. It’s been blamed for some of the mass shootings in schools across the country.

I have never felt that school districts anywhere did enough to prevent bullying or punish bullies. There is little solace for the victims. Too often we see people in the periphery siding the with bully and getting a rise out of the reaction of the victim. It’s kind of a gang mentality. Good illustrations of that are Biff’s buddies in the “Back to the Future” movies or Dr. Evil’s henchmen in “Austin Powers.”

I looked up Bryan ISD’s policy on bullying in its handbook, and it has a lot of information about identifying bullying, bullying prevention, and ways to report bullying. What is seriously lacking is information about disciplining the bully. It offers a vague “administration will take appropriate disciplinary action.”

I’d like to know more about what those actions are. The policy states that some cases could involve law enforcement intervention or the relocation of the bully to another school in the district. Counseling services are available to both victim and bully. Honestly, I don’t see anything there that is much of a deterrent to a bully.

Bullying is widespread. It’s not contained to the schoolyard. It shows up in the corporate world, athletics, and more. Right now, it is pervasive in politics.

President Donald Trump is and always has been a bully. Unfortunately, he is modeling this behavior unchecked and creating an atmosphere of fear and intimidation that is being emulated by those who admire him. How can we expect anyone to take bullying seriously when it is openly and unabashedly practiced by the so-called leader of the free world?

One does not have to look hard to see how he has gone after anyone he perceives to be an enemy. He has sought revenge against prosecutors and the court in his felony hush money trial. He routinely makes threats against political opponents. He has fired thousands of government employees and pushed to close entire agencies without due process. He made it clear during his election campaign that he was going to get revenge against those who prosecuted him or opposed him in any way.

He and Vice President JD Vance openly bullied Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy in a White House meeting. Trump has unilaterally renamed a mountain and a body of water without any explanation or approval process. He has weaponized tariffs and irked longtime allies. He has threatened news organizations who have published things he doesn’t like.

This list goes on, and we are only in the fourth month of his second term.

We see this at the state level with Gov. Greg Abbott, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, and Attorney General Ken Paxton all resorting to strong-arm tactics for political gain. Paxton, in a fit of revenge, campaigned heavily against everyone who voted against him in his impeachment trial, even though he won. Abbott recently threatened Texas A&M President Mark Welsh with his job because a club on campus wanted to attend what he considered to be a DEI conference.

The point is, with such open and widespread acceptance of bullying behavior, how can we expect to contain and eliminate it? Protests give voice to the problem, but real action is needed. As long as bullies remain unchecked, the behavior will never stop.

Changing attitudes about Christmas, Easter

 

Buried deep somewhere in one of my family photo albums is a color picture taken of me and my brothers sometime in the early 1970s standing side by side in starched, itchy clothes holding Easter baskets.

The picture was taken Easter morning, probably before we were dragged to church. I couldn’t have been more than five years old. As a youngster, the only thing I liked about Easter was getting candy, cheap toys, and going on egg hunts. I wasn’t too keen on going to church. It was boring and I was very uncomfortable in the Easter outfits Mom made us wear.

I remember the Easter Bunny always made an appearance at the local mall but visiting him was nothing like seeing Santa at Christmas. The bunny didn’t talk, and you can’t ask him for Easter gifts. The bunny suits back then were really cheesy, bordering on creepy. We just took photos with him and if we were lucky we would walk away with a piece of candy.

All of that has turned around now that I’m an adult. I have been a mall Santa and my wife Sandy was the Easter Bunny at our former church for several years. (She was also a dancing fruitcake, but that’s a story for another day.) As the Easter Bunny, Sandy still didn’t talk, but she did give out candy. And the bunny costume was cute and inviting to the little ones.

One of the biggest changes, however, is that I’d rather be in church Easter morning than hunting for eggs or getting a massive sugar rush from jellybeans, Cadbury Eggs and Peeps. The death, burial and resurrection of Jesus are essential to my faith and my faith is essential to who I am as a person. Being in church reenforces my belief.

In the past I have written columns about separating the sacred from the secular in the two major holidays. Although I still feel that way, I’ve come to accept the reality that the rabbit and the fat man are never going to be fully excised from the manger and the empty tomb anytime in my lifetime. I’ve also come to appreciate the attention they bring to the Christian faith. I’ve come to view the secular attraction to these Christian holidays as kind of a bait-and-switch.

“Come see Santa Claus and learn about the virgin birth!” “Come see the Easter Bunny and learn how Jesus defeated death!”

It’s inevitable that curious young minds will ask why we celebrate Christmas and Easter. That opens the door for the truth to be told. If we had separate celebrations of Easter with the bunny and Easter with the Christ, it’s likely that the bunny would get all the attention and the message of Christ would fall to the wayside. The same goes for Christmas.

The message of Jesus Christ is far too important to be left behind. If it takes Santa and the bunny to open church doors for some people, so be it. The main thing is the secular must never be mistaken for the sacred. The life and Godship of Jesus is much more enthralling and far more important than rabbits, red suits and reindeer. It’s the life giver over the gift givers.

I’ve done a lot of research (googling) over the years to try and learn how the two holy holidays became intermingled with pagan practices and there are plenty of theories and ideas that abound. I’ve concluded that it really doesn’t matter how it happened. The fact remains that it did happen.

There are a lot of traditions and holidays whose meanings have morphed over the decades and centuries. Think about it. What is the meaning of St. Patrick’s Day? Most of us know it as an Irish holiday where we wear green clothes, drink green beer, talk of leprechauns and collect four-leaf clovers. But why do we celebrate it? I know why, but I bet the average person does not.

Thinking of St. Patrick’s Day, one thing that I’m thankful for about it is no one has to get dressed in stiff, itchy clothes and pose for pictures with your holiday plunder. Nor does it impose on the importance of Christian celebrations. And you can bet when I dress for church on Sunday there won’t be a hint of starch anywhere.

Vintage toys are a time capsule to the past

 

Joe Southern with Mego Robin and Superman figures.

Hey, I used to have one of those!

Every once and a while I’ll come across an object, usually a toy, at an antique shop or thrift store that takes me charging down memory lane.

Much to my father’s chagrin, I loved playing with action figures as a kid. I think he would have preferred his boys be more interested in he-man, manly pursuits like sports, hunting, fishing, and cars. Although I did enjoy sports, hunting and fishing, I was never a car guy. I liked playing with action figures. I had a lot of them and even now in my late 50s I’d still rather dote over the plastic figures than turn a wrench under the hood of my car any day.

Vintage toy collecting has become a huge industry over the years, especially as baby boomers and Gen Xers move into their retirement years. And it’s not just toys but all kinds of contraptions, albums, appliances and other things we had back in the day.

For me, “back in the day” meant the late 1960s to the early 1980s. That’s really when the golden age of action figures took place. The first action figure was G.I. Joe, who came out in 1946, just after World War II. With the arrival of G.I. Joe came the ongoing debate about whether or not action figures are dolls. Technically they are, but not if you want to market them to boys. Girls were not going to play with toy soldiers and boys certainly were not going to play with dolls, thus the creation of the term “action figures.”

The first action figures I remember owning (and still own) are my Lone Ranger figures. I loved the television show and watched reruns every weekday morning with my figures by my side. Among the many figures I had were Stretch Armstrong, Johnny West, the Bionic Man, and Evel Knievel and his stunt bike.

I really loved comic books and the original “Star Trek” TV show (and yes, I am a first-run viewer and lifelong fan). When Mego came out with their 8-inch action figures of various superheroes, villains, and “Star Trek” characters, I gobbled them up. I was obsessed with them.

I don’t know how many of those figures my brothers and I went through. Whenever they got wet, the elastic band inside would break. We got to be pretty good at rewiring them with rubber bands.

Mark, my friend who used to live in the house behind us, also liked playing with the action figures and we hauled our collections back and forth. We had many grand and wildly creative adventures with them. Unfortunately, my collection was left behind at his house when his family up and moved to Oklahoma. I never saw them again. I was crushed.

Fortunately, this new movie came out called “Star Wars” and my focus shifted to that. I initially resisted getting the cheesy 3 ¾-inch figures because I was waiting for Mego to make them.

Mego missed out on the “Star Wars” deal, and I relented and started collecting the mini figures. I had all of the original figures, including the mail order Boba Fett, but I later let them go at a garage sale for 50 cents each. Ugh! In good condition today they can be worth upwards of $200.

Mego went out of business in the early 1980s but was reborn in 2018 and began making the beloved figures again. The original figures sold for about $2 each and these new ones are over $20. I don’t have a budget for that, but I usually put them on my Christmas wish list each year. My daughter, Heather, came through and I now have Batman, Robin and Superman again. It was Christmas deja vu!

Now I have a dilemma. Do I open the boxes and take out the action figures or do I leave them mint in the box where they will hold a higher value? Actually, it’s not much of a dilemma at all. I got them for the sentimental value, not as an investment. So open them I will.

Looking back, it has become clear to me that I am a very nostalgic person. I have an affinity for things from my childhood – actually, from throughout my life – as I have plastic tubs in storage full of things from action figures to stuffed animals, old press credentials, and sports memorabilia. They’re kind of like time capsules of my life.

Whenever my wife Sandy and I go into antique stores, I am usually drawn to things that I used to have (or still have). It seems weird seeing things that I grew up with being old enough to be antique. My kids will gladly tell you that I am an antique. Apparently, I’m supposed to remember what it was like when the dinosaurs were around. To answer that question, I’ll have to ask my dad.

Still, as we go antiquing, it’s not unusual for me to say to Sandy, “hey, I used to have one of those!” She is younger than I am, so inevitably the mention of dinosaurs comes up again and we move on.

Birding: It happens to the best of us eventually

 

A male Attwater Prairie Chicken in full boom.

It happens to the best of us eventually. One minute you don’t give a flying flip about birds and then one day you look up and realize the bird feeder is empty and you miss seeing the colorful winged creatures in your yard.

For the record, I’m not a birder, although I’m probably in denial about that. The birds I’m most concerned about are the 26 chickens, eight ducklings and the gosling we are raising on our little farm. That doesn’t mean that the flash of red when a cardinal flies by won’t turn my head. It doesn't stop me from looking around when I hear an owl hoot. I even keep a bird feeder full of seed in a tree outside our back door. Sometimes the squirrels will leave some for the birds!

Whenever I think of birders, I think of people in safari outfits with binoculars and notebooks who hang out in wilderness areas getting wet-your-pants excited about seeing a certain breed of bird or hearing their melodious songs.

“Come here, Norman. Hurry up. The loons! The loons!” – Katherine Hepburn to Peter Finda in “On Golden Pond.”

Growing up in Colorado, we didn’t have a wide variety of birds to swoon over. Robins, barn swallows, magpies and crows were pretty much the norm. Ducks and geese were seasonal each spring and fall. It wasn’t unusual to see pheasants, doves or pigeons. On a rare occasion you might see a hawk. Sure, there were plenty of others, but they had fancy names, and we didn’t see them very often.

In Boy Scouts, we used to send the young boys on snipe hunts, just as our older peers did to us. As a teenager I like to hunt ducks and geese. The only duck I ever got managed to fall into the sewer pond at the local sewer plant. On one hunt, a duck and a bittern took off at the same time. I fired, but it wasn’t the duck that fell. At least that’s what the nice game warden told me.

Down here in Texas, there are more bird varieties than I could possibly imagine. When I joined the Brazos Bend State Park Volunteeer Organization in 2012, I was taught about the various birds that inhabit the park. I was overwhelmed. I still have a hard time remembering what most of them are called and how to tell the difference if something is crowned or crested, scissortailed or breasted, but I do remember that the little, tiny ones are hummingbirds.

I enjoy hanging up a hummingbird feeder and having the little buggers flit around my front porch. I like the challenge of trying to photograph them. They move fast and they’re hard to get.

One birding experience I will never forget came a few years ago when I was working for The Sealy News. Sealy is located near the Attwater Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge. Twice I was given a private tour early in the morning to see and photograph these critically endangered birds as they did their mating ritual. There are fewer than 200 Attwater Prairie Chickens known to exist, and most of those are at the refuge.

The males will inflate the orangish-yellow sack on their necks and rapidly stomp their feet on the ground, which is called booming. They do this in the spring whenever a female is nearby.

This weekend the refuge is holding its annual Boomin’ and Bloomin’ Festival. It means having to get there by 7 a.m., but it is worth the trip! The protected prairie there has many species of birds and other animals, along with many natural wildflowers that are blooming this time of year.

Last fall I covered the grand opening of REI Co-op in College Station. They were using the event to help raise funds for the Rio Brazos Audubon Society. I got to interview the organization’s president, Mark McDermott.

“We’re a conservation organization, or more specifically a bird conservation organization,” he said. “We run activities and conservation programs that are designed with conserving bird life and the habitat that they need to thrive.”

I might have to check them out someday.

It’s become obvious to me that birding is something that sneaks up on you as you grow older. Even though I don’t identify as a birder, I think it’s happening to me. I probably won’t wind up an old man on park bench feeding pigeons, but my family enjoys feeding he seagulls off the back of the Galveston ferry boats. I guess that’s kind of the same thing.