There comes a point where a dream stops feeling like something far away and starts feeling like something you have to keep fighting toward.

For me, that dream is the Women’s College World Series.

Not just the games.

WCWS Media Day. The atmosphere. The emotion. The players. The stories. The pressure. The entire week where softball becomes the center of the sports world in Oklahoma City.

That has been one of the biggest dreams in the back of my mind for years.

And I still want it.

Badly.

But this didn’t start at Devon Park.

It didn’t start with Division I softball.

It didn’t start with professional softball.

It started in small Oklahoma gyms, high school fields, long nights, small towns, state tournaments, and places where the spotlight might be smaller, but the moments still mean everything to the athletes, families, coaches, and communities involved.

That is where the foundation was built.

Before Hunter Sheppard Photography became what it is now, I was just trying to find my footing around the game in any way I could.

Porum was a huge part of that beginning.

I filmed. I helped. I paid attention. I learned teams, players, coaches, gyms, schedules, and the little details most people probably never thought twice about. Before I was trying to chase bigger stages, I was still learning how to simply be around sports, understand the rhythm of it, and figure out where I fit.

Basketball was really where everything started to become something more serious for me.

The 2020-21 season changed a lot.

That was when I started pushing myself further, getting out to more games, and realizing this wasn’t just something I casually liked anymore. The Mustang Holiday Classic was one of those early turning points — one of the first moments where I started to feel like maybe there was actually a path here if I kept showing up.

And that is what I did.

I kept showing up.

At first, it was high school gyms.

Small towns.

Bad lighting.

State tournament days.

Long nights editing.

Finding rides.

Figuring out gear.

Learning through mistakes.

Posting work and hoping people would see it.

That was the grind before the bigger moments ever came along.

Pictured above: Mustang sophomore Garrett Smith completes a two-handed dunk against Norman during the Class 6A State Championship game at OG&E Coliseum.

Eventually, after moving farther into the Oklahoma sports scene and really beginning to build my photography career in Central Oklahoma, the work started growing. What began as high school basketball slowly turned into more sports, more events, more schools, more long days, and more opportunities.

Football.

Softball.

Baseball.

State tournaments.

Showcases.

Postseason weeks.

Then came college opportunities.

NAIA.

JUCO.

Eventually, professional softball with the OKC Spark.

Pictured above: Maddie Penta prepares to deliver a pitch for the OKC Spark during the 2025 season in Oklahoma City.

And this year, my first real crack at Division I softball.

Pictured above: North Texas catcher Elizabeth Moffitt prepares for a play during a game against Wichita State.

North Texas vs Wichita State.

The Big 12 Softball Tournament at Devon Park.

Multiple teams.

Multiple games.

Full galleries.

Real softball environments.

And I didn’t waste it.

That progression matters to me because none of this happened overnight.

I didn’t skip the steps.

I built through them.

One game at a time.

One gallery at a time.

One long night of editing at a time.

The Big 12 Tournament especially felt like a turning point for me.

Pictured above: Arizona State infielder Brooklyn Ulrich tracks down a ball during the 2026 Big 12 Softball Tournament at Devon Park.

Standing at Devon Park, working through those games, editing those galleries, and seeing the finished work afterward reminded me that the gap between where I started and where I want to go is not as wide as it used to feel.

For years, Division I softball and the Women’s College World Series felt like things I could only dream about from the outside. I could watch them. I could study them. I could hope for them. But actually being in those environments with a camera in my hands felt like something that was always just out of reach.

Now, after the last few years, I don’t feel that way anymore.

I know how hard I’ve worked.

I know how many hours have gone into this.

I know how many times I’ve edited late into the night after a long day.

I know how many tournaments I’ve pushed through while tired, stressed, overwhelmed, or unsure how I was going to make the next opportunity happen.

I know what it has taken to build this without a major outlet or machine behind me.

I know what it has taken to keep galleries available for athletes and families while relying on donations, support, and whatever resources I could pull together.

I know what it has taken to keep showing up.

And the work is there.

Pictured above: Texas Tech pitcher NiJaree Canady delivers a pitch during the 2026 Big 12 Softball Tournament at Devon Park.

The galleries are there.

The consistency is there.

The experience is there.

The emotion is there.

The storytelling is there.

The love for this sport is absolutely there.

That is why I’m still pushing.

I’m not asking anyone to imagine whether I can handle bigger softball environments.

I’m asking people to look at what I’ve already done.

I’ve photographed high school state tournament moments across Oklahoma.

I’ve photographed multi-day postseason softball events.

I’ve photographed professional softball.

I’ve photographed Division I softball.

I’ve photographed the Big 12 Softball Tournament at Devon Park.

Those are not hypotheticals anymore.

Those are part of the work.

That doesn’t mean the doors open easily.

They don’t.

It doesn’t mean the algorithm suddenly starts helping.

It usually doesn’t.

It doesn’t mean the right people automatically see the work.

A lot of times, they don’t.

That part is frustrating. I won’t pretend it isn’t.

Because when you have spent years building something, when you know the work has reached another level, and when you know you have proven you can run with the horses, all you want is a fair shake.

That is where I am right now.

I’m not done.

I’m not backing off.

I’m not treating one closed door like the end of the story.

The Women’s College World Series is still the dream.

WCWS Media Day is still the dream.

DI postseason softball is still the dream.

The OKC Spark, the AUSL, Team USA opportunities, and every bigger softball stage I can possibly reach are still part of what I’m chasing.

I know this road is difficult.

I know nothing is guaranteed.

I know there are credential limits, access limits, politics, timing, and a lot of things outside my control.

But I also know what is in my control.

The work.

The effort.

The consistency.

The way I tell the story.

The way I keep showing up.

I’ve talked before about being autistic and having ADHD. Those challenges have been part of my life for a long time, but they have never stopped me from caring deeply, working hard, and finding ways to keep going. If anything, sports became one of the places where I could pour that focus, emotion, and energy into something meaningful.

Photography gave me another way to do that.

It gave me a way to preserve moments.

It gave me a way to be part of the game.

It gave me a way to tell stories without always needing the loudest voice in the room.

And somewhere along the way, the dream got bigger.

From Porum gyms and small-town fields to Central Oklahoma, state tournaments, college events, professional softball, Division I softball, and Devon Park, this journey has already taken me farther than I once knew how to imagine.

But I’m still hungry for more.

I still want the biggest stage.

I still want the moments that make people stop and feel something.

I still want the chance to show that an independent Oklahoma sports photographer who built this from the ground up can belong in those environments too.

So this is where I stand:

The work is there.

The proof is there.

The dream is still alive.

And I’m still pushing.