Tim Goode has envisioned himself as a photographer since he was 12 years old. After years of honing his craft at Football League games and as a staff photographer, he then landed on the picture desk at PA in 2012.
But photography can be a lonely world. You’re largely on your own, and you usually have to solve problems by yourself. Tim fondly remembers the moment he felt he’d established himself as a sports photographer when months of preparation culminated in a fantastic vista during the Tour De France; an image that remains one of his favourites.
Sports photography might appear straight-forward in principle; capture all the fundamental details from goals to celebrations. But one glance at and you’ll quickly see that he also has the eye for obscure angles, eye-catching lighting, and a compositional philosophy that echoes what you’d often see in street photography.
We spoke to Tim to find out more about the world of sports photography.
MY: Hi Tim, photography is clearly a great passion of yours, but what is it about shooting sport that makes you keep coming back for more?
TG: I didn’t grow up wanting to be a sports photographer. I was into sports. But I always wanted to be a documentary photographer. I had all these books when I was younger, all the old classic documentary books. I always thought I wanted to be a long-form photographer and join Magnum. I had this idea you can spend years working on something, that sort of romantic idea of documentary photography.
But when I was studying, I very quickly realised I don’t have the patience for sitting on pictures for that long. And actually, when I started to shoot a little bit of sport, I realised that what I love about it is the brutal timings of it. You either have it or you don’t. There are no second chances. If you miss something, it’s gone. And I really like that pressure of the job.
I did the Tour de France in 2014 when it came through Yorkshire for the Grand Départ. It was months of planning, and you’ve got all this pressure. Having spent the night in my car, I got up at 5am and walked two or three miles up this hill onto the moors, and then waited for this picture.
I was in the middle of nowhere. If it didn’t go to plan, there’s no-one I can phone. I had to think on my feet, make the best of the opportunities, make my own luck and get the pictures. Fortunately on this occasion, everything came together which resulted in this picture.
I had a look afterwards [on TV] and I think it was less than 20 seconds I had for this picture to work. Covering that was what really solidified that I wanted to do this job. I’ve still never felt pressure like that…well, possibly the World Cup. I did the World Cup Final, that was a similar pressure. Despite all the challenges and pressure, the preparation paid off in the end.
That really helped my career that picture. Our picture desk absolutely loved it and that opened doors for me. They saw that I could deal with pressure and planning of just being self-sufficient basically.
Once I did that, I was fully convinced that was what I wanted to do. Because that pressure is just what I absolutely thrive in.
MY: Press photographers are typically looking to tell the story in a single image, but I sometimes get street photography vibes from your work too. What makes a good sports image? What do you look for?
TG: Generally, you shouldn’t need a caption on a great sports picture. You shouldn’t need to be told anything about it. You should be able to look at it and know exactly what’s going on. You think of pictures of Seve Ballesteros from the 80s where he’s really giving it on the 18th. Those pictures don’t need any captions.
You see in judging competitions, some people place an enormous weight on the caption, or even on how difficult it was to get the picture, which I don’t really buy into because you can take a brilliant sports picture at your local village cricket team. You can make a brilliant sports picture absolutely anywhere. You can make one at your school sports day, and it wouldn’t need a caption.
Having said that, if there is something really iconic going on in the picture, then obviously that elevates it to another level. If we think back to 2012, you’ve got pictures of Mo Farah coming over the line in the Olympic Stadium with his hands like that [hands-up] and he’s really really over the moon with what he’s just done. Pictures like that don’t happen very often.
I think the thing that’s freed me from taking the pictures I take now is having a broad education and having a deep understanding of the sport. I love to get weird with some pictures.
You can push too far, every so often. But that’s what your colleagues are for if stuff doesn’t work. [laughs]
MY: I often say that you never really know the limit until you cross it.
TG: Yeah exactly. With this job, and I tell this to all the interns, you have to be willing to accept when something hasn’t worked because you’re always going to get the chance to try it again. There are pictures I’ve got that have taken me a couple of years to get.
One of my colleagues, Tom Jenkins from the Guardian, . I can’t remember how long it was, but it took him years and years [25 years] of putting a remote down in this place to get the picture. So you have to be willing to accept when something hasn’t worked at all.
MY: Your photo of Alfa Romeo’s Zhou Guanyu crashing at the British Grand Prix feels like a once in a generation image. Can you describe the moment you saw it happen?
TG: I’ve not done a lot of Grand Prix compared to other photographers. But without a doubt, Silverstone is, if not the highlight of my year, it’s definitely up there. So to have something like that happen in front me was really unbelievable. And honestly, it’s just something I never ever thought I would see.
There are photographers that have covered F1 for years and have covered every race for 20 or 30 years and haven’t had crashes like that happen in front of them. Because you know, one of the basic reasons is that the cars now are so safe compared to how they were.
The odds of that kind of accident happening are so slim that when it happens in front of me, you’re not really thinking about it. I’d be lying if I said I was. I had a friend say to me ‘oh that picture must have been hard to take’. No, it’s not hard to take at all. If it’s hard to take, you’re in the wrong job. You’re not thinking at all. You don’t have time to think.
I think from [George] Russell clipping his [Zhou Guanyu’s] car to it smashing into the barrier underneath me was about six seconds. He’s probably doing a 100mph skidding upside-down careering into the gravel trap.
There are a few things there that happened that are unlikely. One is that he flipped with such impact that it just crushed the rollbar which is designed to stop exactly that happening.
But yeah, at the time you’re not really thinking. Your brain is completely clear. That’s the kind of thing you spend your whole career being ready for. All you’re trying to do is keep the car in the frame of your camera. If your mind isn’t clear at that time, you’re probably going to mess it up.
The way that it happened, there was a car that followed a line between two and then someone else tried to follow that line which then put Russell off and went into Zhou Guanyu and flipped him.
The impact of that just flattened the roll bar and then he just skidded the whole way. I’m on my long lens for most of that, and then obviously, as he’s coming towards me, you’re making a calculation in your head – should I switch lens? – because you have to be thinking ahead of what’s going to happen.
You’re thinking you’ve got him in frame, but then half of your brain is like where is he going to. I’ve missed pictures in the past which I’ve been really hacked off by because I didn’t change lens fast enough and you end up chopping bits off people. It’s something I’m ironing out; you’re always learning.
What helped was that there was a wall of gravel; I think that helped the autofocus. You know, we’ve got these Sony cameras now which are unbelievable. It’s worth emphasising just how good the autofocus is on those that helped me get that picture.
You know, that’s not the best picture of that thing happening. There’s a bit of crowd in front, and there’s a pole in the way but it’s absolutely insane to look at still.
My first thought was that he’s dead because the sound of it was absolutely horrible when he landed in that fence. Having gone from 100mph, flipped over twice, and slid over a load of gravel and tarmac, you just think there’s no way you can survive that crash.
Then the next thing that your head goes to is ‘is that car going to catch fire?’ The fact that it didn’t is a testament to how absolutely amazing the engineering is on these cars that these fuel tanks are so well protected.
MY: It was certainly a dramatic moment in the race and thankfully Zhou has recovered quickly. Obviously, it’s a bit different to conflict photography but how often are you considering ethics when you witness and photograph something like that?
TG: There’s always an ethical line, it’s a weird one. For me, it would have been bad ethics to run to the front of the stand, shove some punters out the way trying to get pictures of it.
After it happened, you just take a second to think and I remember working in news talking to conflict photographers and they said, almost the worst thing you can do is rush into situations like gunfire or something. You have to take a second to think, try and calm your brain for a second and think through your options.
George Russell DNFed himself. He pulled over immediately and ran over to the guy to see what had happened. So I went to the front and managed to get some pictures of Russell helping out, which weren’t particularly great pictures but at that point, you realise what a massive event this was and you have to prioritise what you shoot next.
It’s tough. We didn’t know if he was dead or not. You just don’t know at the time. They are kind of tough pictures to take but that’s your whole job; it’s what you’re there for. If you’re on that corner and you think you shouldn’t be taking that picture, then you’re probably in the wrong job really.
The picture might never get used, that’s not my decision. If I send the picture to the Picture Desk and the guy dies and they don’t want to put it out, I don’t have a problem with that, that’s fine. But my job is to take the picture and to send it to them.
To see more images from Tim capturing brilliant, and sometime, death-dying moments, check out some of his work in this curated collection.