Operation Payton...

Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.

And if that's the case... Payton Steward, his mother, Fern and I best be asking for leniency from East Marshall Athletic Director Scott Wheater.

Let me explain.

As many in these parts know... a major facility upgrade at the EM football/track complex has been taking place all spring and summer on the north west side of LeGrand.   Lots of digging, tiling, fencing, cementing and blacktopping has gotten the joint ready for the top layer of spongy track surface and in a few short weeks... what many thought may never happen... will happen.

East Marshall will have an all-weather track.

So what does THAT have to do with THIS senior session.

With about a week and a half left before school began, I was informed by Mr. Wheater that our normal location for Mustang football and cheerleading pictures (the fb field, naturally) was going to have to be changed because the MOST of the work had been completed at the complex... but the fallout was that new grass seed had been planted in many of the torn up and worked on areas around the complex... and the powers that be wanted as little traffic down that way as possible before the first home football game.

So football pictures were moved... and while they turned out just fine on the old practice field next to the high school, I took a look at the calendar and thought...

Uh oh.

The day BEFORE the scheduled team pictures was a session for none other than Payton Steward.

One of just 7 returning seniors for East Marshall's football team, I KNEW he'd want to have images taken at the field.   His brother had two years ago... most players do... it's almost a given.

So when we were going over outfits and talking game plan at a little before 8 a.m. on the LAST day of freedom before Payton embarked on his senior year officially... and I told the senior quarterback/strong safety and his mother that I had reservations (if not direct ORDERS not to be out on the field) I could see the disappointment in their eyes.

It was a dilemma for sure.

Mama Fern put the ball in my court.  

"If you don't feel comfortable going there... then we just won't... Whatever you think."

I suggested that in many cases over the years I was susceptible to leaning towards the old credo of just doing it and asking for forgiveness later... but i wasn't gonna lie... I thought we were on thin ice.   But I suggested that if we were CAREFUL and TIPTOED... perhaps we could get in... get out... and no one would be the wiser.

Fern:  "I'm good with that if you are!"

So Mission Stealth Mustang was on like Donkey Kong.   Senior Cadet Payton, my tiny Lieutenant Fern, and I were on a top secret operation.   Get in... get out... and Capture. Those. Images!

Thankfully, when we arrived and set foot on the forbidden grounds, no sirens went off... and no snipers were in place.   We avoided all the grass-seeded "landmines" and in no time we had completed our mission.  

WHEW!

After all that tense risk taking, reality was, we were not even 20 percent done with our overall mission on this day.  Sure the biggest risk was behind us... but we still had much more to be completed with my troops.

Not surprisingly then, while over in a nearby town to capture urban style looks... we spied a state trooper one block from our coordinates hopping out of his land cruiser brandishing a high powered rifle.   (No lie here... for reals).   Suddenly, we wondered if Coach Wheater had found out about our transgressions!

Luckily, we escaped before being apprehended and it was back to the safe haven of Montour.

Many more images were captured back at the home base and in the end... it was a completely successful operation.   We completed our mission and there were no casualties.

More than a Mustang to me...

She calls me Dad Number Two.

So to say this was just any ol' session would be a lie.

I've often said in regards to East Marshall seniors that I've watched them grow up before my eyes.   And besides my own daughter, there couldn't be a more accurate statement in describing Mariah Hope Fritz.

It's not just a cliche'.  I've been there.  From the very beginning.  And then some.

I went to college with Mariah's folks.  So when Papa Brian and Mama Diana came to Marshalltown to begin their married lives and professional careers... they thought they recognized that goofy looking dude from Central one afternoon at Great Clips in the Marshalltown Mall.   Dr. Fritz asked his stylist if she knew who I was after I had left... and the next thing you know, I get a phone call from the young chiropractor that evening.

Not close friends in college, that would soon change.  The similarities were many.   Young business owners, same college, similar interests in sports and wives that were expecting our first children.

A few months later in the middle of March of 1997... Mariah was born.   We were so excited for them as we were walking with them nearly step by step in our parallel lives with our friends.

Just over two months later, it was our turn, and once our Breanna May was delivered, we had yet one more thing in common...

Daughters.

Two more children were added to both families' rosters before both Brian and I were forced to sit on a bag of frozen peas and the stories between our troops are too many to tell in this forum.  The vacation to Disney... the dinners out... the ballgames... the sleepovers... the hillbilly tendencies.  :)

My wife and I were even entrusted with Mariah's care when they rushed to the hospital to deliver sister Maci Joy a couple of years later.  We were there when Mariah met her lifetime sibling sidekick for the first time.

So it's not hard to tell... that I might be just a little more emotionally attached to this senior than most.

I've told her many times that she's my second daughter... and in her always smiling bubbly way... she beams and says, "Thanks Dad Number Two."

Truth is, Dad No. 1 along with his wife have to be extremely proud of this brown eyed girl.   Most know her as East Marshall's All-State pitcher.   And while that would be accurate... it wasn't always that way.

The 5-foot-4 little powerpack has never been the biggest gal.  In fact... she was always the smallest spitfire... and yet coaches kept putting the ball in her hands.  We were all there when this current group of 3-time state tournament qualifiers were getting woodshed beatings back in 4th and 5th grade.  In fact, Mr. Woodshed called... and even he thought we were needing another category to describe the whoopins we were taking.

So what happened along the way?

I'll tell you what happened.   That little undersized gal in purple had something beating in her chest that could not be measured.   She went to work.   Repetition after repetition.   Day after day.... week after week... month after month... year after year.

*whirl*... *snap*

*whirl*... *snap*

*whirl*... *snap*

Windmill deliveries by the thousands ending with the pop of the mitt.   This girl was going to MAKE herself into that name that everyone recognizes around these parts.   And somehow after watching that motor-never-stops two year old sprinting around our house in circles, I wasn't in the least bit surprised that she's turned that energy into focus... and that focus into results.

While she may not have been the most physically gifted young lady, she has the heart of a champion a work ethic that very few have, and a willingness to sacrifice to attain her goals.   Add in a group of teammates that refuse to lose... some great consistent coaching and a wonderful parental support system... and you see that the success has been no accident.

Put Mariah in that pitching circle... and that perpetual smile fades away and she turns into a dark brown eyed assassin.  Her grit and determination are unmistakable, and I'll tell you this.   Once your foot is in the box... you better be ready, because she isn't messin' around.   She's bringing the heat, and more times than not,  you'll be taking three hacks and taking a 180 and returning to the dugout.

In an era that seen her high school struggle mightily in many of its team sports, softball has been rock solid and elite, and no one has had a bigger hand in the program's rich history of success being restored in recent years.

Naturally then, we had to highlight the softball scene for Miss Fritz on her larger than life Rockstar Session that she signed up for.   And just like her attention to detail with her pitching craftsmanship, I had plenty of input on how to best showcase that in images as well.   Pair that up with her pseudo-Pops and a healthy mutual love for all things Mariah and Mustangs... we were in our wheel house on this day.    Add in about ten outfits, sun up to sun down coverage and a trip to Holiday Lake and I can tell you this... It was a good thing the girl has a high motor... because her mom and I were definitely GASSED at the end of the day.  (Ain't gettin any younger, are we, Di?)

I know that Mariah and her family have been understandably waiting patiently for these images to finally surface.   And the truth is, that even if this weren't a Rockstar Session, I would feel a strong sense of bending over backwards for this gal.  She's as good as it gets... inside and out... and just like when my own girl graduates here in a few months, it's gonna be really difficult not having her around all the time.

Riah, Roo, Fritty or even just "M"... the girl has more nicknames than Sean Combs.   But regardless of what you call her, one constant remains.  She's a wonderful young lady, and I'm glad her folks saw me at Great Clips that day 18 years ago... it's been a wonderful ride, and I'm glad you've been on our team the whole way.   Love ya, MaRoo.... Daughter Number Two.   :')

True blue... out in the woods... down home...

She'll probably kill me for using Jason Aldean lyrics in her title instead of George Strait.

She's THAT country.

"From her cowboy boots to her down home roots."

This girl is not your throw on a mini-skirt and plaid shirt and borrow a pair of boots to be a wanna be at a Taylor Swift concert.

She's mud on her boots... do the chores... muscle up on a 500 pound horse if she has to kinda gal.

Toss in a wonderful sense of humor with her adorable locks and broad smile... and you get the picture... this was not a difficult session to photograph.

Fittingly we started at Laura Novotny's country home south of Tama.  After my GPS mistakenly took me to her neighbors home and I woke that poor guy up, I was redirected to the end of the dead end gravel lane and met our guest for the day.

I had previously gotten to know Laura's mother, Karla a couple years back when I helped she and daughter Amy wrangle and bottle feed a calf in the middle of a field south of Montour.  (I'm telling you... these gals are authentic as it gets).  So I kinda knew what to expect.   I was told that a couple of horses would take the place of the baby calf so that's where we started the day.

I dodged several kittens and some chickens as Laura showed me around the place, but in the end... we came right back to the gravel lane that led me to her home to try to tackle "Frenchy" and "Wonder Boy."

Per usual, the horses were relatively easy to get into place, but getting the ears to face forward and upright was a challenge.   We were up to said challenge as my patience outlasted Frenchy and Boy, both in a battle of wills.   Laura is a sweet as they come, but let me tell ya... when her horses didn't cooperate... she'd yank on that lead so hard that I wasn't entirely sure that she didn't have enough strength and drive to suit up and play football for her South Tama Trojans!

But instead, she informed me that her time after school is spent at the vet clinic in Tama "picking up poop."    For reals.   While most senior girls would puke a little in their mouth with the mere thought of that job description, somehow I wasn't surprised that Laura thought it was no big deal.  In fact... I think she kinda wore it as a badge of honor.

After getting her horses captured from every angle, I wanted to take advantage of the farmstead, because let's face it... this was NOT going to be an urban streets-bricks-and-alleys type session.  Not with this girl.

So we bounced from sheds to gates to horse trailers to laying in the lawn.   She even insisted on climbing 15 foot up into a difficult to access tree (launching herself off of a tall step up ladder also known as my shoulder to get there).

She, along with two other seniors that I photographed that week... had been to the state fair and seen MY favorite country act, Florida Georgia Line.   Naturally then, we talked alot about concerts.  I told her who I had been to see over the past year... Aldean, Luke Bryan, FGL, Rascal Flatts, The Band Perry, Cole Swindell, Colt Ford, Lee Brice, Taylor Swift, Tyler Farr... to name a few.   She appreciated that... but then asked...

"What about George Strait?"

She had nailed me... clearly I was just a wanna be, and I'll wear that tag because I've earned it... but it wasn't gonna stop me from bringing out her true country style... and it certainly won't stop me from being in the front row in three weeks when Eric Church and Dwight Yoakum rock Wells Fargo, either.  :)

We were hustling around trying to beat some incoming showers that were off to the west that morning... and we were successful.   Fittingly then, the girls hopped into a big red pickup and led me back to Montour a much different way then I came there.   You guessed it... nearly gravel the whole way.  I kept looking over my shoulder wondering if CMT had a camera crew following us as some sort of country girl documentary or reality TV show... but nope... it was just the Novotny girls doin' what they do.  

We got back to the studio and banged out a few more images highlighting her boot collection and I even forced our rough and tumble young lady to take an image in some flowers (she told me she hated flowers... but I think she was just trying to hold up her tough girl rep with me).  :)

A year from now she'll most likely be off to Iowa State, just like her sister.   She'll be taking an Ag path of some kind, no doubt.   And the girl will be taken out of the country for four years... there will be no taking the country out of the girl.

"...from the songs she plays to the prayers she prays... that's the way she was born and raised... she ain't afraid to staaaaay... country.... yeah she's nothing but country."