That time I was Nervous, with Roger Craig ••••
The make-up artist couldn’t help but laugh at my nerves. We had worked together on countless shoots over the years. Capturing everyone from top executives to actors and celebrities. She knew me well, knew my rhythm, my calm. So when she paused, looked at me, and said, “I’ve never seen you nervous before,” it caught even me off guard and put me in my place.
Why was I nervous?
It didn’t make sense. I had worked with notable figures before. Other members of the legendary San Francisco 49ers like Ronnie Lott and Dwight Clark. I had even worked on a commercial with Joe Montana. These were icons, individuals whose names carried weight far beyond the football field. And yet, on this particular day, I found myself unsettled.
Standing in front of me was Roger Craig.
He was taller than I had expected. Still fit, still strong, still undeniably charismatic. There was nothing intimidating about him in demeanor; quite the opposite. He was warm, cordial, and considerate. The kind of person who puts others at ease. And yet, somehow, I was the one unraveling.
There I was, fumbling my words, second-guessing simple directions, even managing to bump into chairs and nearly walk into the wall of my own make-up room. It was absurd. You would have thought I was a starstruck teenager meeting her idol for the first time. But I wasn’t. I was a seasoned professional, a photographer who had confidently directed countless athletes and public figures. So what was different?
Yes, he held records. Rushing yards, carries, touchdowns, Super Bowl victories. His résumé alone was enough to command respect. But the truth ran deeper than statistics.
There was a memory.
It surfaced uninvited, vivid and electric. Years earlier, I had been at a backyard barbecue with friends, casually watching a game on television. On the screen, a running back broke free and charged down the field. One defender grabbed him, but he kept going. Then another. And another. It took five men to finally bring him down. Five!
We all rose to our feet, shouting, cheering, completely caught up in the moment. It wasn’t just the play, it was the sheer determination, the raw strength, the refusal to yield. I remember thinking, How is that even possible?
That player was Roger Craig.
In that moment, the distance between past and present collapsed. I wasn’t just photographing a former athlete; I was facing a living embodiment of a memory that had once filled me with awe. Perhaps that was the source of my nerves. Not the man himself, but what he represented.
Fortunately, with a little grounding (and a bit of gentle teasing) from the make-up artist, I managed to regain my composure. I reminded myself why I was there: to do a job, to create something exceptional. And once I settled back into that mindset, the shoot unfolded smoothly.
Still, for a brief stretch of time, I had been completely disarmed.
It was the only time in my career that I experienced something like that. Thankfully. Because professionalism matters. As a photographer, your role is to lead, to direct, to create, not to be overwhelmed by the presence of your subject. That day left me with a quiet but valuable lesson: always walk into a shoot with intention and clarity. Be present. Be focused. Capture the moment, don’t get
