I’m an anxious shooter. I like to be as prepared as possible but in sports, anything can be possible – last night proves that. Here’s what I remember.

Here is what I remember.

1 minute 29 seconds.

The Vikings scored a field goal to go up by two, but there was too much time on the clock.

I took off. Drew Brees could hit his receivers at a distance. This could be one play or this could be ten. I needed to be in position. I needed to be ready.

For this game, Getty Images assigned three photographers and two editors. When I got down to the other end zone, I checked for either of the other Getty shooters to make sure I didn’t sit right next to either of them. No point having two of us at the same spot shooting the same thing with potentially the same lens.

Brees hit pass after pass and receivers got out of bounds. The Saints were now within field goal range.

I exchanged looks with a Star Tribune photographer – we had covered enough Minnesota Sports to know this feeling.

The crowd that had been so loud in the first half that I could not hear my Nikon shutter click just inches in front of my face was now eerily silent.

I shot the field goal by the Saints and the Celebration. I have a nice frame of the Vikings walking off the field as the Saints congratulated Wil Lutz.

25 seconds.

I looked around again for the two other Getty shooters. I couldn’t see them. I stayed where I was.

Let me rewind for a second. Before the game, the other Getty photographers and I had discussed that if it were a close game in the fourth quarter, one of us would stay behind the play – just in case.

When I didn’t see either of them, I stayed where I was.

Sports photography is super competitive. Everyone wants THE shot.

I had to fight with myself to stay. I felt like I was in the wrong spot. Then I remembered my Sports Shooter Academy training. The right spot is the one you’re in and the right camera is the one in your hand.

To calm myself, I ran through all the potential plays. Long passes near the sidelines were the only thing the Vikings could try to be in field goal range again. I knew that if they did that, then I was in the right spot to get the field goal and the fans’ reaction behind the goalpost. If Case Keenum was sacked, I was in the right spot to get game-ending jubilation from the Saints. When I thought touchdown, it was a Hail Mary into the end zone and I knew I was in the wrong spot and that made me anxious again.

Now I had waited too long to move. I trusted the team I was shooting with and so I thought about that same. That sack felt like the most likely photo I was going to get from where I was. That sack was going to be storytelling.

14 seconds.

No timeouts remained.

10 seconds.

Wait. No one was getting through to Keenum. He launched it. I saw the release point, swung my lens in that direction and spotted Stefon Diggs. I heard my shutter that time. I watched him fall – or at least I thought I did. I thought he was down or out of bounds but I stayed with him. My camera popped focus but found it again. He kept running. I kept clicking.

I thought the play would be called back but at least now the Vikings were in field goal range.

My view of Diggs got blocked and I immediately went to find Keenum. Once that was gone I took a quick glance at the video board and saw the pile-up in the tunnel and everyone running onto (or in the Saints case, off) the field. That’s when I realized what had happened. I got up and ran.

A few minutes later my editor found me on the field and yelled, “long lens. I need your long lens stuff.” oh, right. I had no idea what I had or if it was sharp. After fumbling getting the card out, I just shoved the entire thing at him and yelled, “take the whole thing!” and I was off again. There were features to be made!

The New York Times Used a few photos from the sequenect the following day in their discussion of the play.

Observations

The Minneapolis Miracle