Day 59 (Tue., July 27)

Going back to work after such a long weekend was good. I was so energetic today. I rose out of bed with a jump the way a 15-year-old rises on his first day of high school. I was glad to finally be back at work. When you do the type of work that I do, coming back to it after a little break feels so great. Today was one of those crazy diverse days I have been writing a lot about. I went to take photos of a naked woman. Now, now... Guys, let's not get excited here. She was part of PETA, the animal-rights organization, and they were protesting the circus, which is in town for a few weeks. I guess I should share the photo of the naked woman, so here it is:

I know most of you males are disappointed and hoping to see this attractive woman's naked body. Too bad, you don't get that here at www.JulyThePhotoGuy.com, where photography usually takes a feminist approach while staying fair and objective. Photography allows you to do this. You can capture the moment and insinuate different aspects of life, while still not being flat-out rude and unethical. That's what I did here, I shot the woman in a way that you can tell she was naked (well, half naked as she wore underpants and tape over her breasts). However, the photo allows for the imagination to flow and you don't have to see her half-naked body to know what she was trying to do. That's why I love photography, it allows you to do so many things while being satisfied with yourself and not step over ethical boundaries. Speaking of satisfaction, I want to backtrack to last year. Last year in July I only had one official photo assignment. I was doing a lot of photography on my own, but the only assignment that I got was to go cover the soccer game between Club America vs. Manchester United at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. It was good times as I was able to take photos of Club America, my favorite Mexican Soccer League team. But the most satisfaction was seeing the look on my father's eyes. Let me give you some background on the event. In April, I found out such game was taking place. So, I filed for two photo press passes as a photographer for the Roundup, the Los Angeles Pierce College newspaper. That was my routine, I would try to get into as many big-time sporting events and cover them for my photojournalism class. I felt I needed the real-time experience so that when I graduated, I would be completely ready for his crazy photo world. The routine was to get two photo passes for the event -- one for me and one for Ana. It was the same deal for a lot of other things, including the Los Angeles City Marathon, the Los Angeles City Section High School Baseball Championship at Dodger Stadium. So, that's whom the other pass was going to. However, by July 27, 2003, I had not spoken an/or seen Ana for three weeks and I was stuck with an extra pass. No problem, I had someone in mind that might appreciate the trouble I went through to get such pass: my father.

My dad, as you saw on my father's day entry, is a very athletic soccer player. In fact, he is so good that he had a chance to play pro soccer in Mexico. Legend goes, my dad and mother were expecting a child (Me) at the young age of 17. They both had to give up their goals and dreams to form a family. My dad, as hundreds of people have reminded me, was the best soccer player our hometown of Tepexpan, Mexico had ever created. People knew about Julian Cortez from far away, they knew that this kid had some skills. Even after marriage, my father continued playing soccer and he became better and better. Often publicized in the local newspaper. And always challenged on the soccer field as hotshots tried to out do him. He had an invitation to go try out for one of the pro soccer teams but he turn it down because he had a family to look after. So, as you can tell, his dreams were cut short as he focused on his priorities. I am glad he did that. I am so glad because I had caring parents who gave up a lot, including leaving every single member of their family behind (among them, their three kids) to migrate to the United States to give their family a better life. When I was 10, I was away from my parents for six months as they worked in the U.S. meanwhile I stayed in Mexico awaiting their return. Then, finally the came for us. Took us to the U.S. and the rest is history. People call me successful, goal-orientated, determined, loyal and, most of all, honest. I got that from my parents. They went through a lot so that I can be that well-rounded person people know me as. If I am making a name for myself, it's not just for me, it's for them. I can't wait to be somebody in life, so that their struggles finally get paid off.

Julian Cortez, my father, got treated to a sideline view of his favorite soccer team, Club America, a year ago today.

So, back to the coliseum... My dad grew up loving Club America. Aspiring to someday wear the canary yellow and make his moves on the flat, always-green ground on soccer venues. That did not happen. But last year, on July 27, 2003, his dream came true. Sort of. He was at field level looking and walking side-by-side with the Club America players. He looked around, smiled and held his head proud in the sky. He was there and he felt at home. Most of all, he said, he was proud his son gave him that. The son that once promised him he will be a great famous athlete so that he could live his dreams through him. Obviously, I didn't have the skills to be that great athlete. But as they often say in the sports journalism world. Those who can't play sports, report sports. My father walked around, looked at the players, shouted to say hi at one of the trainers, who during my dad's teenage days was one of the 11 men on the Club America starting line-up. Dad got on the phone and called back to our hometown. My aunt answered, and with such pride my father asked "do u have any idea where I am right now?" He told them to stay glued to the t.v. because there might be a glance of us on there. Actually, my cousin said he saw me on the sidelines. That day my dad was happy. The look on his eyes, was that of a 5-year-old getting a chance to see Alex Rodriguez for the first time in person. His joy, that of the same kid in candyland. That day my dad was on the field, and to be quite honest, at the young age of 42, I think my father would have run circles on these players if he had a chance. This is not coming from a proud son, but from a sports writer and sports photographer.

A year ago I tried to be the perfect son. A year later, the story still the same.

Playing five feet away from us, Club America and Manchester United put on a show. On that day, Club America's biggest fan was just a few steps away.

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