Freeze frame: Images that make the world stop

You would think sports photography has a lot to do with reflex but instinct and observing patterns trump that

New Delhi: There is a peculiar cruelty to cricket. It can ask you to wait an entire day for a moment that lasts less than a second. For photographers stationed along the boundary ropes, the challenge is even tougher. You must power through hours in the heat and thousands of uneventful frames. And then, without warning, you have your money shot.

Sri Lanka’s Pathum Nissanka takes a catch to dismiss Australia’s Glenn Maxwell during the 2026 ICC Men’s T20 Cricket World Cup at Pallekele International Stadium, Kandy. (Ishara S. Kodikara/AFP)

At the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup, when Pathum Nissanka flung himself sideways to intercept Glenn Maxwell’s reverse sweep,

A photo of the field in the Women’s 12.5km Biathlon Mass Start shot with a large pole from a bird’s-eye-view as part of ‘Above the Games’ – a series of experimental creative initiatives for Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics. (Ryan Pierse / Getty Images)

Pierse insists that the fundamentals remain intact: position yourself well, understand the sport and never lose focus. That is what links his philosophy with Kodikara’s as they deem anticipation crucial.

“Not just focusing the lens but mental focus,” he said. “You might be on a cricket field for seven or eight hours in the heat. The moment you switch off, something big will happen. There can be one ball in that entire day that matters. You can’t switch off for a second.”

There is probably nothing that Ryan hasn’t covered in his 30 years of experience – whether it’s the Olympics, World Cups, the Ashes, Grand Slams or Formula 1. When asked about his favourite photograph, Pierse does not choose spectacle, but memory.

“The Australian team has a tradition of singing their team song in the middle of the ground hours after the game finishes. I captured Nathan Lyon leading the song at the Sydney Cricket Ground as the clock struck midnight in the background,” he recalled.

“For many years, that team song was never captured in stills or video. It was behind closed doors. Growing up in Australia, being a Test cricketer was the ultimate dream. I was never going to be that, but to be in that moment, to record it and feel the energy and emotion that stayed with me.”

Nathan Lyon fuels a public singing of the Australia team song ‘Underneath the Southern Cross I stand’ to celebrate the 5-0 Ashes 2013-14 series win at midnight, barely minutes after the final English wicket fell at the Sydney Cricket Ground. (Ryan Pierse / Getty Images)

The image is quieter than Nissanka’s catch. There are no airborne bodies, no split-second athleticism. Instead, it’s a circle of players under dimmed lights, midnight marked in the background, victory encapsulated by ritual. It marks two vastly different kinds of stillness.

Beyond the challenge of navigating the video boom, the rise of AI-generated imagery hovers over their craft now. These are pictures that never passed through a camera and moments that most likely, never existed.

“There will be more AI-generated material out there,” Pierse said. “But we focus on what we do best: producing real, organic content. What you see is what you get.”

A lot of content, Pierse notes, is fleeting. “We scroll past it for a reason. It’s the content that stops us in our tracks and makes us look twice that matters.”

In an ecosystem that rewards immediacy and volume, both photographers return to the same principles of anticipation and authenticity. The Ashes photo at SCG did exactly that back in 2013. Twelve years later, the image of Nissanka’s catch did exactly that. In an age that moves forward relentlessly, still images still make the world stop.