Freddogg Off The Chain

Yesterday I went to take a few pictures of a high school wrestler signing a National Letter of Intent to grapple at a Division Two school. Nice kid, nice grandmothers but the dad had suckered me into a media event and there was a cafeteria filled with photographers so I took a picture of a sheet cake because I knew that the rest of them would get up and do the same thing and I kept mumbling “I hate this! If you want me, I come running, but I require exclusivity.”

Later at night I was covering the semi finals of a field hockey tournament. I choose three girls for head shots and interviews after the game. One girl had an assist and that’s it, so I figured I’d have her to myself. Wrong, the rest of the writers figured I knew something they didn’t so I got followed. They also were surrounding my other two interviewees. Did I mention the head coach hugged me and nobody else because when you’ve been around a long time coaches and friends will “hug you up.” I’ve had more men tell me they love me than any straight man is the history of the planet.

I told the trainer of the winning team ,a young woman who also hugged me and loves me that I hated the media. “Check that, I said, “I hate everybody.”

The bright spot of my day was in the late afternoon when I had to stop for a Cow Crossing. “What in Carnation?”
I took a photo, an exclusive shot and if some other digital wanker had showed up I may have uddered an obscenity.
"Go home and hug your own heifer!"

freddogg