My Second World Cup - Getting ready.
The nice thing about covering the Women’s World Cup was that I went totally unprepared. Not knowing what to expect meant just reacting and throwing myself in to the situation as it unfolded. Long days and longer nights backing up and editing then early starts… it all took it’s toll, it was only the adrenalin that kept me going.
Tournaments are very different to bouts. There is so much to cover and you feel that if you slack off for even half an hour to get some food you’ll miss the crucial shot of the tournament. So one keeps shooting. Accumulating more and more files, mostly duds, that will still need to be backed up and processed later. The accumulation means long nights in the hotel, backing up files and charging batteries so all the gear is ready for the next day.
Knowing what will happen fills me with some trepidation. I know that however hard I try and regulate things and make things manageable, once I get caught in the fervour of the moment, I will get swept along. Filling memory cards, changing cards, until I have a pocketful of used ones. Filling them is easy, backing up is tiresome, especially when one is knackered and one knows that one will have to do it all again the day after.
The results are worth it, but after a couple of days one feels tired, burnt out, everything is a blur. By the time the final bout starts, adrenaline alone is keeping the body going. I know it will happen, I can’t avoid it, and that’s what feels me with dread.
So if you see me slumped in me the corner, nodding off, buy me a coffee or prod me with a sharp stick just so that I can make it though to the final whistle.
Tournaments are very different to bouts. There is so much to cover and you feel that if you slack off for even half an hour to get some food you’ll miss the crucial shot of the tournament. So one keeps shooting. Accumulating more and more files, mostly duds, that will still need to be backed up and processed later. The accumulation means long nights in the hotel, backing up files and charging batteries so all the gear is ready for the next day.
Knowing what will happen fills me with some trepidation. I know that however hard I try and regulate things and make things manageable, once I get caught in the fervour of the moment, I will get swept along. Filling memory cards, changing cards, until I have a pocketful of used ones. Filling them is easy, backing up is tiresome, especially when one is knackered and one knows that one will have to do it all again the day after.
The results are worth it, but after a couple of days one feels tired, burnt out, everything is a blur. By the time the final bout starts, adrenaline alone is keeping the body going. I know it will happen, I can’t avoid it, and that’s what feels me with dread.
So if you see me slumped in me the corner, nodding off, buy me a coffee or prod me with a sharp stick just so that I can make it though to the final whistle.
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