ShareThisBy BEN GRABOW
Scripps Howard News Service
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
I'm crouched on a hillside, carefully eyeing the ravine below, waiting for any sign of movement. By the time I hear the crunch behind me, it's too late. Three shots crack in the humid air and three sharp stings spread into white pain on my lower back, spine and shoulder.
Luckily, this isn't foreign correspondence. This report is coming to you from a wooded lot only a few miles from my apartment. And for the most part, paintballs don't break the skin.
Paintball is an annual rite of spring, best saved for the end of the season when the trees are flush with protective leaves. As often as our schedules and wary girlfriends will allow, we are off in the woods bravely capturing flags and laying waste to the opposing team.
Or, at least, this is what it would be like if we could find 10 people willing to be shot with paintballs. As it is, paintball really only happens once every three or four years. This is basically the amount of time it takes for all of the participants to forget what it was like the last time.
Trying to recruit new players is never easy, either. To begin with, you can't ask just anyone to play. You have to be on a certain level of friendship with someone to invite him to spend an afternoon in your crosshairs.
Likewise, you're sure to get that most common new-to-paintball question -- "Does it hurt?" This question is answered easily enough with fibs ("You hardly notice, there's so much adrenaline involved") and outright lies ("It's more of a tickle").
Those new to the sport probably do not know that paintballs travel at a velocity of 300 feet per second. And they can find out the same way the rest of us did, by catching one in the ribs.
Unfortunately, no amount of lying will lend any appeal to running around in the late-spring heat wearing several layers of clothing. Friends without a wealth of camouflage clothing are also at a disadvantage. But once you manage to scrape a team together, you and your friends are in for a day of courageous fighting and a few moments of glorious heroism.
Or, if you're playing with us, you're in for a day of cowering behind a tree and fogging your facemask in fear as the two or three experienced players decimate the sweatshirt-and-jeans team. You might have realized this would get ugly had you noticed that these guys actually own their own paintball guns. The Realtree face paint was also a good indication.
You'd think, after a couple tours of duty, I'd have learned this lesson. But here I am, writhing on the ground, and not simply because I left my back open. No, I'll have the distinctive bruises for a week because I let them talk me into paintball once again.
But don't let me talk you out of playing. I mean, it's still a lot of fun. In fact, you should come out with us sometime.
Really, it only tickles.
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, http://www.scrippsnews.net)
