On Saturday, 9/08/01, a group of fourteen people (myself included) went to a paintball field for some paintballing action.

   Of course, it wasn't smooth.

   First, we had a long wait.  Apparently, the 'reservations' I made were put off until one because of a telephone miscommunication, prompted by my fear of not having enough people.  I should have called back.  Anyway, that prompted a long wait.  Special thanx goes to Spencer, who went and made a G.W.H.E. worthy order at McDonald's and got food for us all.  Perhaps he doesn't deserve that much thanx, however, since he did keep the change.  A good lot of gas money, too.

   However, it got better from there on in.  To my count, everyone played at least five games or so.  Everyone had fun.  Those who couldn't come missed out on a good time.  And everyone I talked to said they'd like to go again.
 

   Here are some of my personal recollections.

   Game I

   Game one began with teams of about 11 on 13 or so.  The game was capture the flag.  Easy; get their flag and take it back.  I thought that since everyone was fairly new to playing, they would all use some rudimentary plan such as 'split up in the woods and attack.'

   I grossly miscalculated.

   No less than sixteen seconds into the first game, I encountered over half the other team all shooting at me.  I plugged my barrel and left the field.

   Not a very heroic first encounter.  I wasn't impressed when I saw my entire team walk off the field except for an eleven year old guy who had walked on.

   Game II

   Center flag.  Get the flag and take it back.

   Twelve seconds in, I'm charging headlong and feel my ankle twist.  I stepped into a hole.

   I did get an elimination, maybe two, before jamming my shutter and rushing someone (who easily shot me), but my ankle's still bothering me the next day.

   Charming luck.  Everyone else seems to be having fun.  So far, the organizer is injured and has played only thirty seconds without two catastrophes happening.
 

   The rest of the day went well, though, except for a close call with Scottie (he knows what I'm talking about).  I don't remember the details of every game, although I will take a moment to say that I love my Flatline barrel.  A couple big guys with some tricked out guns challenged two teams.  Eight on quite a few.  I hunkered down behind some logs while they eliminated about five guys from around me, leaving me one friend.  However, that barrel gave me so much range that I hit some of them so far away they hadn't a chance of hitting me.  I took about twelve shots before the first one hit a guy, who jumped, then kept jumping as more and more shots started hitting him.  I didn't mean to light him up, I was just tracing.  Anyway, five eliminations.  Unfortunately, time ran out and I was practically out of ammo, so I was left stalking one guy who had held us up for the entire time.

   My other stories are about speedball.  Pretty much every game I was sliding bunkers up front.  I actually got even with the other team at one point, when Frank was all alone.  I love speedball.  Now, if only I had brought my shutter's squeegee, I wouldn't have had as many problems.

   That's about all I'm typing on this one.  I had fun, everyone else had fun, and now I'm broke.  Damn that university and their bills.