The Morning According to Us

Cheapening of sports images makes us long for Polaroids.

Getty Images

Shake it, shake-shake it, shake it.

I was shocked to learn that Polaroids don't even really exist anymore. A pair of Dutch scientists are trying to revive that ancient art -- the instant, physical picture that would actually have to be (gasp) scanned to somehow find it's way onto your personal publishing platform of Facebook, etc. -- and at least bring back the idea.

Of course, anybody in the magazine business can feel the tug. Long ago -- oh, ten years, which is a millenium in tech time -- images were worth cherishing. The cover shot, for instance, was truly a gift the masses couldn't replicate with their own cameras and their own photoshop applications. And if you have ever worked at a publication minus instant, digital imagery, you know well that images are priceless. Or they were. People still like to read, but an overlooked part of the struggles of the print industry is also the ubiquitous use of digital film, not just from the sidelines, but from the stands.

We're all publishers now.

It's nothing against the consumer, but there are legends built upon the singularity of an image. How many good shots exist of Lou Gehrig standing before the microphone, or of Babe Ruth pointing to center? How many exist of that final dive over the top in The Greatest Game Ever Played, or of Willie Mays turning to throw after a miraculous catch in center?

Now, of course, images are cheap. Think of a recent image that -- non-commercialized, so no powder-tosses, LeBron -- seems to transcend time. Tiger's chip at Augusta's 16th? Again, doesn't it already feel commercial? Is that why we know it? Could it not live on its own? It'a hard to know. It's also hard because sideline shooters are snapping off 6-10 images per second anyway. Rapid fire per click. So are the fans. We've done for photography what the AK-47 did for warfare. We've made the whole process more efficient, but the dignity of one shot, one kill, or one shot, one image, is long past us.

I hope Polaroid succeeds. I think at that point we should do a yearly magazine with the rule that our photographers could use just those instant print-outs. They'd have to sit and shake it, hoping they caught LeBron James just right as he sought to victimize his own version of Craig Ehlo. Maybe it wouldn't look pretty, but the value was also in the process. And we'd all know it.

This week's New Yorker was created on an iPhone. And it's lovely, really.

Fair enough. We'll compromise. They can cheapen the image, make it pure ease, and simple to manipulate. But I want my iPhone to have a Polaroid app. Let me print my shots, right out the bottom of the phone. It's only fair.

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