Or should this one be titled “This Story Tells a Picture,” as the picture wouldn’t have happened without the story.
At eight months into my job as a staff photographer at The Daily Herald, I was absolutely the “low man on the totem pole.” Only by 2-3 months, but seniority is everything. Mark Welsh was just ahead of me, moving to Arlington Heights from Effingham, IL in late spring of 1987, I’d arrived via Macomb.
“Sparky” and I were close in age and had worked at smaller papers. Mark was hard working, with almost that single-minded focus that puts them on another level. He was good beyond his years. When I worked in Macomb I’d see his Effingham work roll across the Associated Press wire. “Who IS this guy?!”
As good as he was, he too, took a lower position than the rest of the guys on our staff of seven or eight shooters. Mark and I both worked Sundays. And Sundays usually lacked the energy and activities that the rest of the week and Saturday’s provided. If something big was happening on a Sunday, one of us was to get that assignment (we called the good jobs “plums”), and the other guy was going to get the, well, whatever. Mike Seeling was the Sunday photo editor. I never had any issues with Mike, I thought he was generally fair, but if it was something “really” big, Welsh got the nod more often than not. Rightfully so, Mark was that good, and I was still on a learning curve. Mark could be counted on to come back with the photo.
February 7th, 1988 was a cold one. And it was one of those days, something definitely big was taking place in Chicago. The 1988 NBA All-Star game at Chicago Stadium. The slam dunk contest had been the day before, and I’m not sure who covered that for us. Michael Jordan won it, and it was from this contest that a handful of iconic frames were made of Jordan as he put on his show. Mark was to do the game its self on Sunday, he got the plum. I would pick up the other stuff.
Poor Mark. Seriously and literally. I don’t recall if he made it as far as the office, or if he called Mike to give his report. He drove a Dodge Colt and that Colt had issues of some sort. Sparky was out, I was in by default, and headed to 1800 W. Madison to cover the game, not overjoyed at how Mark’s misfortune got me the gig. But I had a gig to do, and it was a big moment, “second choice” or not.
Of course it was a huge deal, media were in from all over the country. No pressure, Kent. There were so many photographers that floor positions had to be extended from the baselines and down the sidelines. I sat in the 1/4 section between the baseline and half court line. The southwest side of the court, across from a bench.
We shot black and white negative film and color transparency film in those days. This meant at least two bodies, one loaded with b/w, one with color. The lights at the stadium weren’t great, and it was hard to get clean color. There was always some cast. With hockey, light would bounce off the white ice and help the exposure. Not so with the Bulls. I think our usual recipe was Fujichrome 400, pushed two stops to 1,600. Results varied, sometimes the grain looked as large as a BB.
All-Star games are not typical. You know if you know. Nothing huge is at stake, the intensity is lowered some. It’s about the star power on the floor, assembled in one spot, celebrities in attendance, etc. Action is important, but more so, are interactions, reactions, anything unexpected, etc. A photographer has to have a different mindset and be looking for those “other things.” I did my best.
At one point, for only moment or so, Danny Ainge and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar were near each other, an exchange away from the action at the east end of the floor. A Celtic and a Laker, I liked the banter and the contrast in height. Three or so months later, those two could be just as likely trying to rip each other’s head off.
The East beat the West, 138-133. Jordan scored 40 and was the MVP.
I think this is literally the one single frame I held from that assignment. I can’t remember what else I got, what was published, etc. You see what I mean about the quality of the image. The highlights are pretty blown out and I can’t get rid of the yellow no matter how much I try. I don’t know what Mark shot that day, if anything. I know he didn’t keep that car much longer.
Danny Ainge and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar at the 1988 NBA All-Star game. Chicago Stadium, Chicago, IL.
