I love team photos.
Each week as I scour online for story ideas (and kill time with mindless video snippets), one thing always stops me dead in my tracks.
Team photos.
There are all kinds of sites out there that post old pics from various communities. I’m especially interested in the ones that I feel closely tied to – Duncan, Victoria, Nanaimo, Vancouver and now PQB. The folks who post on those sites do Herculean work, and I salute all of you. The ones who painstakingly offer photos from old newspaper articles from historic archives, a special stick tap in your direction.
I’ll devour all of the information but there are two things that will command my attention no matter how many screens I have going at the time – old advertisements and the aforementioned team photos.
Old ads because it’s fascinating to see what prices were back at any given time (buy a house for $12,500!) and how the choices of the products have evolved.
But even those, I’ll gloss over. Post a team photo and you have my undivided attention.
I will read and re-read every name, delighting if I knew some of them, then moving on to figure out whose parents, grandparents, siblings or children I might know.
The other day, I saw a shot that included a beaming shot of a young hockey player, celebrating a championship from six decades ago. A fellow I only knew as a surly former neighbour who always got bent out of shape when the kids played road hockey in front of his house.
“Interesting,” I thought. “He was probably really only angry that he couldn’t get out there himself.”
They are amazing time capsules of group effort. I have dozens and dozens of them, tucked away mostly in old albums or boxes. And they run almost the entirety of my life.
From a tiny lad taking his first steps into the world of sport on to my semi-competitive years. Then various ‘celebration’ group shots with my adult buddies from beer league escapades, and up through many years of coaching my son and more recently his little brother.
The shot accompanying this piece was chosen for pragmatic reasons. It was in one of my social media albums and that meant I didn’t have to go hunting in old boxes.
Mets. Duncan Minor Baseball, Little League. 59-0-1 in three years. Bonus points if you can spot me.
I can still remember all but three names. And if I went hunting, I could find the original in the box where I’m sure my Mum would have written each name on the back. A few from the pic we’ve sadly lost. Some I have no idea what they’re up to. Each time I look at the photo, I notice something else. How did any hat fit over that giant hair? Why is Roger wearing an actual shirt under his uniform? Why do I still think about that lone tie game?
I still don’t enjoy driving through Duncan now and seeing all the ball fields gone. And on and on. And it’s that way with all team photos.
Some of the tykes I started coaching now have kids of their own, which is a frightening reminder of the aging process.
I hope they save their team photos.
If you have any team pics of your own you’d like to share, shoot me a copy, along with any fun memories or questions about former teammates you might have.
PQB News/Vancouver Island Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments and local story ideas. He can be reached via email at philip.wolf@blackpress.ca; by phone at 250-905-0029 or on X @philipwolf13.