On a windy and wet field at Coupeville members of the Burlington Tigers and the Oak Harbor Lynx learned what being a football player is all about when the two teams squared off for the conference championship last Saturday morning.

When I learned about the games on Thursday, “Ah, ha!” says I. “Here is an opportunity for me to get some youth sports in the Whidbey News-Times, and I can shoehorn in some time before I have to take off for Mount Vernon to watch Oak Harbor play Kentwood.”

Rising somewhat early for a Saturday, I gathered my gear and cruised down to the Wolfpack’s home field in time for the kickoff of the 6 to-9-year-old PeeWee title game.

The rain was kind enough to stay away, but a stiff wind with intermittent howling gusts made playing conditions less than ideal.

At least it wasn’t freezing.

Despite the foul weather, my mood wasn’t at all diminished. Having coached in years past, youth athletics are dear to my heart and here was an opportunity to photograph some young players and give them and give the league a little publicity.

The Lynx were undefeated, so I wore my lucky brown hat that I wear to all the games when Oak Harbor High School is playing.

Standing on the sideline, not too close to the field of play as I was informed the Lynx could draw a 15-yard penalty if errant photographers strayed too close to the action, I commenced taking pictures.

In the process of raising my equipment for a series of shots of a Lynx halfback making a good run, the wind suddenly began blowing harder and zip — my hat was gone!

Have you ever dropped a quarter on a hardwood floor, have it land right on the edge and begin to roll?

I think it has something to do with Newton’s third law of motion. You know, “For every reaction, there is a fool that started the action.”

At any rate my hat began to roll, right out on the playing field!

I was immediately in pursuit.

Only sports photographers try to recover a rolling hat with one hand while holding aloft a big-lensed camera with the other.

Every time I came close to making the grab, the wind pushed my fedora just out of reach.

By now I was approaching midfield when suddenly there was another strong gust of wind. You got it, the kid went down face first in the mud, besmirching my leather jacket and my pants.

However, I kept the camera aloft. I didn’t make the recovery, one of the referees corralled the rolling brown brim.

Bless the guys in the striped shirts!