Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No 12 – Do images really tell stories?
We often say that images tell stories. It’s something that comes up a lot in photography, and if I’m honest it’s never really something I’ve fully got or bought into. That said, I’ve definitely said it myself. More than once. And not just in sport either. Pretty much across all the styles of photography I’ve had a go at. But as I’ve started getting deeper into producing images for others, it’s something I’ve found myself questioning more. What’s actually telling the story? The photo, the person looking at it, or the words that go with it? Joy to be there? A successful lift? Getting psyched up? Take something simple. A player takes a mark. It might be a good mark. High, contested, full stretch, the kind of moment you’re hoping to catch. But without anything else around it, it’s still just a good mark. That same photo could be early in a game, or it could be in the last couple of minutes where it decides the result. From the image alone, you wouldn’t really know. It also depends on how you see it. The same moment can look completely different depending on the angle. You could have two photographers shooting the same play and come away with two very different images. Not because one is better than the other, just because they’ve seen it differently. One might show the clean mark. Another might show the pressure coming from behind. Another might have the ball just leaving the hands, or just about to be spoiled. Same moment, but it doesn’t feel the same when you look at it. And because of that, people take different things from each image. One might feel like control. Another might feel like chaos. Another might feel like it was about to fall apart. Even when we think we’re reading emotion from an image, I’m not sure we’re always right. We’ve all had someone ask if we’re angry when we’re not. From the outside it looks one way, but the reality is something else. Photos are a bit the same. They can suggest emotion, but they don’t confirm it. Is it defeat? Is it exhaustion? Is it preparation? And even when context gets added, that doesn’t necessarily make it the subject’s story either. A caption, a write up, even what I say about an image, is still my take on what I saw. Then someone else looks at it and takes something different again. So instead of one story, you end up with a few different versions of what that moment might be. In sport this stands out more. A photo can show effort, pressure, interaction, all of that. But what it meant in the game is often missing. Time on the clock, score, what was on the line. Without that, the image still works, but the meaning is open. And I don’t think that devalues photography. If anything, it makes me think more about how the image is used alongside words. Learning to ride? First cyclocross? community inclusion in sport? For me, that’s where captions come in. Naming players, teams, the moment. Not because the photo isn’t enough, but because I don’t think it tells the full story on its own. It gives the image something to sit on. Even then, it’s still my interpretation, but it helps anchor it a bit closer to what actually happened. So I don’t really see images as telling stories in a complete way. More that they show moments. And those moments can support a story, suggest something, or make you feel something, but they don’t lock it in. Through the Lens is my way of exploring those moments — the ones that show what sport gives us beyond the scoreboard. Each week I’ll keep searching for them, camera in hand, and sharing what I find. Curious what others think. Do images tell the story, or do they just help us build one around what we’re seeing?
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No 10 – The Moment Before
A quiet pause before the action at the Weightlifting WA State Championships — captured as part of my Through the Lens sports photography stories. This post is part of my Through the Lens sports photography stories — a series exploring the connection between sport and community. Each week, I share not just what I capture, but why I captured it. In sport, there’s always a pause before the storm. It’s that brief moment when an athlete closes their eyes, gathers their breath, and shuts out the noise around them. It’s not yet the time for action — it’s the time for focus, for centering, for carrying the weight of everything that has led them here. This image captures that instant: eyes closed, shoulders steadied, surrounded not by opponents, but by those who want to see you succeed. Coaches, teammates, training partners, family, and friends — all offering belief, support, and a quiet kind of strength. Sport is often remembered for the highlights — the tries, the goals, the records broken — but its essence lives in these quieter spaces where preparation meets belief. The Weight We Don’t See As spectators, we often focus on outcomes — the victories and defeats, the medals won or lost. We tend to think of these as individual achievements, as if athletes are entirely self-contained in their pursuit of success. And in professional sport, the business side often amplifies this view: contracts, statistics, and results take centre stage. But the truth is that athletes carry more than their own expectations. They carry the sacrifices of others: parents who drove them to training, coaches who invested their time, teammates who pushed them, fans who believed in them. Support lifts you up — but so does the responsibility that comes with it. So when you see an athlete in that quiet moment before competition, it’s worth asking: are they focused only on the task ahead, or are they also carrying the weight of everything that got them there? Perhaps it is not the thought of victory that drives performance most powerfully, but the memory of the sacrifices made along the way. The Heart of It For me, this is the kind of scene that says more than the result ever could. It’s not the winning moment, not the celebration, not the final whistle. It’s the human pause before action. The focus. The vulnerability. The reminder that sport is about more than the contest — it’s about connection, belief, and shared strength. Why I Share These Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories Through the Lens is my way of exploring those moments — the ones that show what sport gives us beyond the scoreboard. Each week I’ll keep searching for them, camera in hand, and sharing what I find
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 6 – The Ones Who Show Up
Even When It’s Cold and Wet Even on the grey, wet days — when the couch and a warm blanket sound far more tempting than the sidelines — they’re still there. The mums, dads, and little ones who make up the heartbeat of community sport. Maybe there’s an older brother or sister out on the field chasing the ball through the rain, while the rest of the family cheers from the stands. It’s not glamorous, but it’s real — and it’s what keeps the spirit of grassroots sport alive. “Because it’s more than just sport. It’s about being there — rain, shine, and everything in between.” The Quiet Commitment This photo captures that side of sport we don’t always notice. A mum and her son, rugged up in the stands, sharing a snack while the game goes on. No big celebrations, no spotlight — just time together, waiting, watching, supporting. These are the small, powerful moments that remind us sport isn’t just about players on the field. It’s about the families in the background who make it all happen — who sacrifice their weekends, who show up every time. The Ones Who Show Up In community sport, “home” isn’t just a word painted on a sign — it’s a feeling. It’s built through routine, care, and the familiar faces of the ones who show up week after week. This image from the Rugby WA Junior Carnival at Palmyra Rugby Club captures that perfectly — the warmth of belonging, the meaning of showing up, and the quiet pride that comes from being part of something bigger than yourself. Through the Lens is a photo series exploring the connection between sport and community through my lens. It’s about what sport has given me — and what I see it giving to others.
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 5 – Anywhere Can Be the ‘G’
Anywhere Can Be the ‘G’ Grand finals might be won at the MCG — but anywhere can be the G. A quiet oval, a local park, or a stretch of backyard grass becomes the stage where dreams play out. Every kick is a moment of imagination — a chance to be the hero, to feel the roar of a crowd that only exists in your head. That’s the beauty of it. You don’t need the lights, the crowd, or the scoreboard — just the belief that, for a few kicks, you’re part of something bigger. It’s in those moments — where childhood wonder meets community spirit — that the heart of grassroots footy is truly born. “You don’t need a scoreboard to love the game — just a ball, a bit of space, and the freedom to play.” Barefoot on the grass — because anywhere can be the G. Barefoot Beginnings There’s something timeless about the feeling of grass underfoot and a ball in hand. This image — a barefoot player about to send a yellow footy skyward — captures that unfiltered joy that sport brings, long before competition and structure take over. It’s that reminder that sometimes all you need is a patch of grass, a few mates, and the simple urge to have a kick. Grassroots Spirit in Every Kick Grassroots footy isn’t just about matches and medals — it’s where connection and community are born. Every kick, every laugh, every chase for the ball builds a sense of belonging. The simplicity of moments like these reminds us that the love of sport often starts outside the boundaries — at local parks, school ovals, and backyard fences. It’s where leaders are shaped, friendships are forged, and the future of the game finds its feet — one barefoot kick at a time. Through the Lens is a photo series exploring the connection between sport and community through my lens. It’s about what sport has given me — and what I see it giving to others.
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 4 – Lou the Legend (Baseball WA Umpire Lou Bonomi)
Beyond Playing the Game For many of us, sport begins with playing. We grow up with a ball in our hands, chasing the thrill of competition and the joy of being part of a team. But not everyone’s journey stays on the field. Some move into coaching, others into administration, and some — like Baseball WA umpire Lou Bonomi — into umpiring. Each of these roles is vital, and together they form the backbone that keeps grassroots sport alive. Lou the Legend — Baseball WA Umpire Lou Bonomi This post captures Baseball WA umpire Lou Bonomi, a life member of Baseball WA Umpires and a three-time Umpire of the Year (2010–2013). Even in 2025, he’s still out there, calling games with the same professionalism and dedication that has defined his career. His presence reminds us that while players may take centre stage, sport relies just as much on those who step into supporting roles — often without fanfare — to ensure the game goes on. I have two cousins who both played baseball at the highest level in WA. When I showed them this image and asked if they recognised the man in it, their response was immediate: “Lou the legend.” For two people who’ve been out of the sport for well over a decade, the fact that Lou’s name still carries that kind of respect says everything. I’m not sure how old Lou is, but it would be fair to say he’s been around the game longer than many who’ve taken to the diamond. In fact, it’s likely he has seen not only mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters play, but even the grandchildren of those players step onto the same field. That kind of presence weaves him into the very fabric of the sport. Lou Bonomi — Baseball WA life member and three-time Umpire of the Year — still behind the plate in 2025, bringing professionalism and dedication to every game. Professionalism at Every Level What stood out for me on this day was watching Lou umpire across a couple of winter league games — both juniors and seniors. Even in that short time, it was clear how much professionalism he brought to every call. You could see the composure, fairness, and attention to detail that no doubt extends to whatever level of baseball he’s involved in. That kind of consistency is what gives grassroots sport the same sense of pride and respect as any professional stage. Through the lens, this image honours not only Lou’s contribution, but the countless others who have traded the jersey for a whistle, clipboard, or scorebook. Their presence is what keeps the spirit of community sport alive. Why I Share These Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories Through the Lens is a photo series exploring the connection between sport and community through my lens. It’s about what sport has given me — and what I see it giving to others.
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 3 – The Unsung Heroes of Junior Sport
It Takes More Than Money to Build a Successful Club Before the scoreboard lights up or the crowd gathers, there are people who make it all possible — the ones who turn up early, give their time freely, and do it because they care. Junior sport doesn’t survive on funding alone; it thrives on the dedication of those who love the game and believe in what it gives back. This image, captured during the warm-up of a junior rugby match, shows one of those moments — a coach guiding a young player, helping them refine their skills before kick-off. There’s no glamour in these quiet exchanges, but they represent the heart of grassroots sport: patience, belief, and contribution without expectation. Guiding young players through warm-up drills at the Kalamunda Bulldogs Junior Carnival Day — a reminder that passion and community spirit keep grassroots sport alive. “Grassroots sport doesn’t run on money — it runs on people who care.” Paying It Back to the Club That Gave You So Much For some volunteers, it’s not about having kids on the field — it’s about giving back to a sport that has given them so much. They turn up because they understand what it means to be part of something bigger than themselves. It’s about supporting the community that once supported them, and keeping alive the values that make grassroots sport what it is. Their children may have moved on, or maybe they never played at all, but these volunteers remain. They show up because they know sport isn’t just about results — it’s about connection, belonging, and the lessons that last a lifetime. Through junior sport, many of us have made lifelong friends and connections that continue well beyond our playing days. Each training session, game day, and warm-up becomes a chance to nurture that same sense of belonging in the next generation — a way of keeping those friendships and community bonds alive through giving back. The Unsung Heroes of Junior Sport The unsung heroes of junior sport aren’t chasing trophies or recognition. They’re the coaches, canteen helpers, and team managers who show up week after week because they know how much it matters. Their reward isn’t measured in medals but in moments — the small wins that shape young athletes into confident, resilient people. This photo captures one of those moments: a simple gesture of guidance before the game, reminding us that sport’s greatest stories aren’t always told in the spotlight. They’re found in the connections, care, and quiet commitment of those who give without asking for anything in return. “It’s not about being paid back — it’s about paying it forward.” Through the Lens is a photo series exploring the connection between sport and community through my lens. It’s about what sport has given me — and what I see it giving to others.
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 2 – When the Game Tests More Than Skill
When Effort Doesn’t Match Outcome Some days, nothing seems to click. The passes fall short, the timing’s off, and no matter how hard you dig in, it just doesn’t come together. This image of the Willagee Bears Women captures one of those moments — when the game tests more than your body, it tests your mindset. You can see it written across every face: frustration, exhaustion, and that quiet knowing that you didn’t play to your potential. Maybe today we just weren’t good enough — and that’s what lights the fire for next week. The Willagee Bears Women wear their emotions honestly — a tough day that fuels the fire for what comes next. “It’s hard to hide what you feel when you know you’re better than what the scoreboard shows.”
Through the Lens Sports Photography Stories | No. 1 – The Focus of a Coach
Jerard Saunders, ARKS Rugby Union coach, during a quiet sideline moment — focused, composed, and leading with presence rather than volume. The Quiet Power of Leadership In sport, not all leadership is loud. Some of the most powerful moments happen when a coach simply stands present — calm, composed, and fully focused. This image was taken during a quiet pause on the sidelines of an Under 16s boys’ game at ARKS Rugby Union’s 50th Anniversary carnival. The coach wasn’t shouting instructions or pacing nervously. He was listening, observing, and holding space for his players. That stillness spoke louder than any words could. “Sometimes leadership isn’t about what you say — it’s about the calm you bring when others are under pressure.” Coaching Focus: Guiding Players Beyond the Game True coaching focus goes far beyond tactics and training drills. It’s about helping young athletes become confident, respectful, and resilient individuals — both on and off the field. Watching this coach guide his team, it was clear his purpose reached beyond the scoreboard. He wasn’t just shaping players; he was shaping people. His steady voice, his patience, and his belief in the boys reflected the kind of mentorship that leaves a mark long after the season ends. The respect he received in return was earned not through fear or authority, but through trust — built moment by moment. Recognition of Commitment Since that day, Jerard Saunders has been named Rugby WA’s 2025 Coach of the Year, recognised for his leadership, mentorship, and dedication to developing athletes and fellow coaches alike. Awards like these celebrate more than results; they recognise the heart behind the game — the hours, the care, and the consistency that build community. And that’s exactly what makes grassroots sport so powerful: it’s driven by people who give, lead, and inspire because they love the game. Through the Lens is a photo series exploring the connection between sport and community through my lens. It’s about what sport has given me — and what I see it giving to others.