feeling like myself.

My feet feel good on a football field.

The weather was football-esque in Calumet City this afternoon. Cloudy, grey. Chilly with a misty drizzle.

I stood alongside the TF North coaches I was photographing, as players ran their drills across a muddy practice field.

It was a perfect way to end my shift on an October Wednesday.

The smell of sweat and dirt clings to the air just enough to make it noticeable.

The players grunt out their routine. The coaches yell when the ball is dropped on a snap.

It's great being in the middle of it all. I would shoot a real game like that, if someone would let me.

And it doesn't matter what level the game is being played at. Little guys, high school, college or pro. I love the pace and the brotherhood of it all.

My love affair with the game really began in high school. I joined Brother Rice's marching band as a color guard, and sat in Gately stadium through all home games for two years straight.

Then, in college, I had a front row seat to some pretty good years of football at Illinois.

I covered the Bears for years when I worked at the Southtown, and then at the paper.

And while my time spent on football fields has been limited over the years, when it's time to step back in, it really is as though I never left.

I just love that game.