Monday, May 26, 2008

Paint ball, one of those past pains that I wonder how I lived through

So back in the day, hhmmmm about 2000-2001, I used to play paintball. With all my guy friends of course. For those of you who don't know me personally (and there can't be much of you reading this blog) I was raised by my dad and consequently, was much more comfortable with guy friends than girl friends. Plus they never stabbed you in the back and as long as I didn't date them they never made me unhappy. Unlike the few female friends that I had in my younger days. BTW I find that women are like fine wine, they mellow with age, so I can handle being around them now. Sad but true, hey at least I'm honest! Any way back in the day I played paintball with the boys. Flying balls of paint moving at 280 feet per second. Hurt like hell when you got hit. Causing the adrenaline rush that those boys love so much. Boys. So my point is that it's a boys sport that girls can play just as well as boys, unlike football or baseball or the like (don't even get me started on that bull riding crap). There weren't many of us girls out there, most were following their boyfriends and just stayed in the staging areas (ie parking lot). When they noticed me putting on my gear and filling my pods the boys would be all impressed (it doesn't take much to impress paint ball boys). I have a few funny anecdotes, my dh was field manager at one point and on a day I played a guy, adult, not one of the 13 yr old punks, went up to him and complained to him that the 'girl' on the field was overshooting. For those of you that don't know what that means it's when you shoot some one out and follow that shot with a bunch more. It's considered unsportsmanlike. Now in my case it was funny (and my dh laughed at the man while saying "Oh you mean my wife?") because I am a back player. Only morons get hit by back players. We are there to lay down 'ropes' of paint and keep the opposing teams heads down. We don't aim, we just throw out so much paint so fast that the stream looks like a 'rope' of paint. You get hit by one of us and yeah, you're going to get more than one paint ball hitting you. Of course we aren't aiming either, you are walking into a stream of paint aimed in your general direction. This is why the dh was laughing at the big guy complaining to him. Coated in half a case of his wifey's paint that he had so nicely given her to coat morons with. Each person on the team has a purpose, back players are not there to actually hit someone, unless they are stupid enough to walk into our lane (the place where the rope of paint is being directed) and stand there and whine about it. And why would you go back and complain that the one chick on the field hit you? A lot? To the people who work the field? I mean that's like getting on the loud speaker and saying 'Hey look my penis is small!'. Yeah everyone had a laugh over that one. The front and middle men are the ones who are supposed to shoot people out, they are the ones calling back to us to get heads down so they can move forward and shoot them out. And that guy was whining about how I overshot him...pussy.

1 comment:

DoubleD said...

ahhh, the good old days..