I stand along the sidelines of a high school football game, camera in hand.
I'm taking photos for the team and for parents of some of the athletes who have requested a photo-score of their son throughout the football season.
I'm pretty good at tuning out the smell of sweat, the spitting, the swearing and other sideline distractions.
I'm pretty good at capturing the guts and heart of the story taking place on the field. Through snapshots.
There is one sound that I cannot tune out.
In the middle of the thundering noise of 22 young men running feet in front of me,
In the middle of all of that I hear a a sound that rings like music to my ears and reaches the depths of my soul.
Spoken through the facemask of one athlete.
That one word and an outstretched arm in gesture to give me a fist pound...
and for those few seconds the entire game stops for me.
Then he runs out to the field and kicks an extra point for the team.
I'm just so thankful for the opportunity to capture the stories of several athletes on this team.
But forever grateful to be a character in the story of #6.