Call of Duty: Modern Paintball

Back in May, I went to play paintball with some friends to celebrate a birthday and a graduation.

About two weeks prior to this event, I bought CoD:MW2 (That’s “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2” for all you non-12-year-olds out there) and, after being called gay an inconceivable number of times by kids so young they still had their mothers’ milk drying on their upper lip, I was ready for paintball.  I put on the thickest set of clothes I had and headed out.  Once there, I didn’t have to wait long before the rest of the group I was meeting showed up.  By noon, all 28 people had suited up and were ready to play.  After the first few rounds, in the fields, we decided to give speedball a try before going back out.

Unlike the paintball where you try and blend in with your surroundings and try to sneak or shoot your way through enemies, speedball is more of a quick-draw with automatic weapons.  The field you play in is relatively open with about 20 or so inflatable cylinders small enough that only one or two people can fit behind them.  The veterans of this game all have guns that with VERY sensitive triggers which can fire close to 500 paintballs in less than 1 minute.  When you get hit, you don’t count how many times you get hit, you count how long you’ve been getting hit for.

The first few games we played everything went great.  The teams were even and everyone had some decent shots in.  After finishing up with speedball and playing a few more rounds of paintball, we decided to end the day with one last hurrah on the speedball field to use up the last bit of ammo we had left over.  At this point, most of the group were tired and only a handful of us went for speedball.  We ended up playing against a small group who not only had their own camouflage, they had their own custom-built paintball guns and equipment.  One guy even had a built-in fan in his helmet.  This, coupled with the fact that we were dealing with a few 12-year-old kids, we all knew we were in trouble.

We played two games with this group.  The second game went a lot longer than the first since we split up the teams, but the first was humiliating.  Just before we began the match, we came up with strategies as to where on the field everyone would position themselves and how they would give cover to their fellow team members.  I planned on sprinting to the right side of the field and get cover behind one of the larger obstacles so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting shot from more than one side.  The moment we hear “GO,” we all scramble to our pre-chosen spots.  Not ten seconds into the match, I get to my spot, take one peak (less than one tenth of a second), and immediately feel my head get knocked back followed by a view of pure yellow.  The shot was so perfect, I could taste the plastic from the paintball just after I was hit.

And so, I pay homage to you, the twelve-year-old with class.  If you’re out there reading this, I tip my glass to you.