Excuse me, what are you doing?

If you could use one word to describe the above photo, what would you choose? Kinetic? Blurry? Artsy? Cool? Mediocre?

What about creepy?

On a whim, I went to watch the Iowa Hawkeyes play in the Big Ten baseball tournament on Saturday at Charles Schwab Field in Omaha.

The Hawkeyes beat Penn State 11-3. It was a picture perfect, feel-good experience for me.

But then something happened that spoiled it all.

After Iowa played, I was photographing an interesting overhead view directly above the bullpen where the Maryland pitchers were warming up for the next game. I had discovered it earlier during the Iowa game. One of the ways to differentiate your photography is to find a unique vantage point, and this was a fun one. I was excited and in the zone.

There is literally zero people, not a soul, in the entire section where I’m shooting. The players know I’m there, and I make a mental note to give them my business card so I can send them some of the photos.

In between shots, I briefly glance to my right and notice a woman approaching. I think nothing of it. I assume she’s coming to watch the pitchers warm up as well. She appears to be in her 40’s, decked out head-to-toe in crimson Maryland gear. It’s in direct conflict with the obnoxiously bright yellow Hawkeye t-shirt I’m wearing.

As I resume shooting, she interrupts me. “Excuse me, what are you doing?” She’s standing closer now. Stiff posture. Stern expression. I notice she’s holding her phone vertically at hip level with the screen facing me.

I’m taken aback and confused. I hold my camera up for her to see. “I’m taking photos.”

“Well, it’s creepy.”

Now it’s my turn to say, “excuse me?”

She repeats it. “I think it’s creepy.”

Now I’m pissed.

This is where I wish I would have taken a deep breath, smiled warmly and said, “Oh gosh m’am, I’m so sorry you got that impression.  My name is Jon Pearson. I’m a freelance photojournalist covering the games. Isn’t it a beautiful day?  I was just about to give the players my card so I can send them some photos. Would you like to see some of the cool shots I got today?”

I should have held my tongue and considered her story. Maybe she’s experienced some trauma in her life that causes her to assume any man with a camera is a threat.  I honestly wish I would have responded this way.

But alas, I did not.

Instead I say, “you think taking sports photos is creepy?”

“Yes, it’s creepy.”

“Do you know what I think is creepy? You videotaping me.”

She quickly taps the back of her phone.

“Uh, I wasn’t videotaping you.”

“Yes, you were. I just saw you hit the button.”

I think, great, I’m being live-streamed on the “To Catch a Predator” Facebook page.

“I wasn’t taping you, look.” She turns her phone around and the camera is still on. She didn’t even swipe it to turn it off.

“I say, “now THAT’S creepy”

Now she’s flustered. I’ve turned the tables.  I’m ashamed to say it felt great. She says again that she wasn’t filming me.

“Look. I’m a professional photographer. This is a public venue. I’m allowed to be here.”

“Ok, Ok.” At least she’s no longer saying the word “creepy.”

She glances down at the Hawkeye logo on my electric yellow shirt. It’s like staring directly into the sun. “Who are you with?”

I now wonder if she’s paranoid that I’m with the Iowa team spying on the Maryland pitchers. As if I would be stupid enough to stand out in the open wearing a shirt bright enough to signal lost ships at sea.

Worst. Spy. Ever.

“I’m not with the Iowa Hawkeyes. I’m from Omaha. I’m just a fan. In fact, I was thinking of giving the players my card.”

“Ok, ok”, she says again as she slowly turns and begins to walk away.

It felt like we’d arrived at a draw in this awkward, icky standoff. There certainly was no winner.

Next, I pull out my wallet and fish out a business card and shout down to a couple of the players. “Hey fellas.” They glance up, shielding their eyes. I’m not sure if it’s to protect their eyes from the sun or my shirt.

I toss them the card. As it’s fluttering to the ground I say, “I think I got some pretty cool shots from this angle. I’ll put some on Instagram, but feel free to email me and I’ll send you more if you like.”

One shouts, “hey, thanks man!” Another says, “yeah, thanks a lot”. They seem genuinely appreciative.

I feel somewhat vindicated, but I’m still fuming. I have the urge to follow the woman and tell her I gave the players my card. I want to inform her that they were thankful. I want to ask her, “If they don’t think it’s creepy, why do you?”

Instead, I take a breath and walk the other direction

I guess that’s a start.