This second time was great.

   No long wait.  So shut up, Scottie.
 

   More importantly, I learned how much I liked speedball over wooded fields.  As much fun as the wooded fields are, I usually get stuck lone-wolfing it or going out with a buddy or two.  When I have a team, it works much better. Take Scottie, Leetch, James and I.  All the way up the field, engaging a few guys enroute.  I even had my hand to the flag before some guy riding the tape sniped me.  Bastard.

   So close, really.  It's not fair.  I had an easy run back.

   And I do ok by myself.  Scottie and I held the right flank along that big ditch that everyone complains about.  It took me a minute or so to sprint up and get the position, moving up on four guys on my belly... then they saw me and took shots.  I stayed in the grass the whole fifteen minutes with Scotty, who unfortunately moved and took a good shot but was eliminated at the same time.

   So there I was, alone.  I basically bunkered down and let them shoot and spray me for fifteen minutes before I finally took a few shots and sprinted back.  One of my own guys panicked, but held his fire.  That would have been bad.

   Anyway, despite the fact that our other flank fell and they got the flag anyway, I learned that a single guy hiding in the bushes can hold off four guys if they fear advancing on him.  I was sprayed but ok.  We all had a good laugh at that.

   Then we had a huge field game.  Leetch, James, Scottie, and I were last ditch defense for our flag.  Turns out we were being hit everywhere and our friends dropped.  Last thing I saw was Brett dancing gayly on my left.  I was seriously going to light him before all of his friends went around the other side, one of them being kind enough to shoot me and Ryan.

   I left Scottie some ammo and he called for a paintcheck.  Unfortunately, he was still in.  Now, Brett says that it was only six guys, but Scottie insists that it was ten.  Either way, all I know is he jumped out from a tree and proceeded to be eliminated in a very unfriendly fashion.

   Then Brett took the flag back and I cried.

   Another later game, I avenged that and broke the defenses at the flag station.  I was going to pull the flag, but someone else went for it instead.  We got it back with just five seconds to spare.  I was screaming "Run like your life depends on it!!" and other ridiculous things.  It was close.  I didn't cry, although I was tempted to do a forced hand-off and sprint like my life depended on it.

   The annoying thing about the wooded games is I'm not always with pals.  It worked wonderfully when I had three teammates and we could work together (sorry, James, by the way.  I wanted you to move left and distract my guy so I could flank him, not casually stroll into another firefight.  I thought it was assumed to not get shot... but I apologize regardless).  But sometimes, when friends go home, or the situation just dictates otherwise, I'm alone.  A team behind me, yes, but I prefer to go it alone.  Just try my luck.  And it's usually bad luck.  I got pinned down by one sniper in the woods.  No trees for cover, lots of ground to cover... and one guy in thick brush, just waiting for me.  Nowhere to go.

   Of course, it bothered me how I was eliminated.  I ran parallel behind a teammate while some enemy guy fired about twenty shots at me (he said later he just decided to 'test his luck').  They all missed except one shot in the middle.  I think the other guy took a few shots at me, too.

   What bothers me is that, somehow, in this stream of constant paint, I avoid all these shots but one ignorant paintball decides to break on my left shoulder.  It just seems ironic, somehow.  Sad, even.

   Another fun wooded game was the one 3 vs. 3 flag capture I played.  I thought it would be fun to ambush the guys who came.  I sat down low for about five minutes, then someone saw movement and opened fire.  Somehow, out of a bunch of shots, one stray paintball hit my goggles.  Another annoying heroic ball.

   Then Jim came.  I think he shot at me when I secretly switched teams to go against all my friends.  I was behind because of some hopper troubles when someone noticed the teams were a bit unfair, so I helped out the little guys.  I got pinched between two guys.  It sucked.  The thing that bothers me, though, is that the little guys held out surprisingly long against my supposedly 'great' friends.  Maybe they were just being extra-cautious?  Or maybe I held them back very well?  Oh well.  I lost.
 

   Alright, I've told a few stories about the wood games (and I was sure to mention people other than me on the Nick Page, so quit whining, Leetch), so let me tell you oh faithful readers about the speedball games!

   First off, I seem to do much better in the speedball games than in the woods.  Unlike last time two weeks ago, where I did ok but seemed to be eliminated over half the time, I was even more aggressive, pushed farther up (albeit with much more care and precision), and only remember two eliminations.  The first elimination was carelessness on my part.  I rushed to the tower on the right side but didn't stay tight.  Someone that I knew was in the back twenty or so (but I thought was taking cover after I put his head down) just aimed at fired.  He had been waiting for me.

   Never again!  I took that tower in almost every game and proceeded to reign righteous fire upon all who did not play perfect paintball.  And many unperfect were on that field at that time.

   Let me tell you guys something; use your bunkers better!  Tuck your knees and feet in, put your face to the wood.  Get in tight.  Don't let any part of your body stay exposed to any angle where enemies could be.  And try to take advantage of your teammates.  If the enemy cannot take shots at you without risking sure elimination by your allies, then go there... and still tuck tight.

   Each speedball game, I eliminated anywhere from three to six opponents.  I didn't keep track of each score.  I just remembered my low and my high.  Not bad.

   Now, how did I get so many?

   Simple!

   First off, Flatline Barrel!  It's accurate at those close ranges with absolutely no ball-drop.  Shooting under spools suddenly becomes possible.  So, a good deal of my eliminations were me capitalizing on people who got sloppy.  That guy who let a foot stick out of his bunker, I shot his foot.  If I had an angle on someone, I was perfectly content shooting across field and getting the guy who wasn't tight to his bunker.  If someone let me aim up on them and they weren't quick, I shot them when they jumped out.  Fools who thought that going over a bunker and not pulling there marker down got paint on their hopper.  And the bigger fools who just couldn't keep their masks from peeking over the top got a headful of paint.  How's about people that I flanked?  They forgot about tunnel vision, so I angled to the side and took easy eliminations.  And nothing like aggressively rushing forward and sliding from one bunker to the next.  Of course I was fired at the most, being the farthest up front, but I kept close to my bunker and didn't let fools hit me.  Anyone who fired at me was wasting ammo!  And I communicated with my friends!  If I needed help, I didn't whine to myself, damning the evils of the world as four guys rained paint on my parade!  No, I called for cover, I asked for instructions, I demanded to know where the baddies were, although I probably should work on communicating more.  And when openings came, as they inevitably did, I eliminated baddies without remorse.  Suckers.

   Ok, that's enough of me bragging about my 'righteous fire upon the heathens' talk.  I have a whole website dedicated to me being great at things.

   Now it's time to make fun of Scottie!
 

   Where to begin?

   How's about that game from earlier, where Leetch and I were eliminated, and it was Scottie all alone against ten guys, all just waiting for him to come out?  How many times were you shot, again, Scott?  Oh, that was classic ouch.  How about when you crawled into all that bush, only to rush out and get shot?  I was fine.  A bit wet and a bit painty, but fine.

   Can anyone beat this?  Two games of speedball.  It turned out that Scott and I were on seperate teams, but the teams were unbalanced in terms of numbers as well as experience.  To remedy that, a few people were moved and one of the younger refs grabbed his marker and took the field.  Of course he had to be good.  After all, he's a ref, and he had a cool mask.

   Now we all know where this leads.  Specifically, as I recall it, Scott ran his mouth.  "I'd even wager some bucks I can getcha'," he said.  And the trash-talking began!  The challenge was issued.  Scottie would get both the ref turned player AND The Nick.  Yes, he challenged The Nick!

   I not only said I would get him, but to encourage the right kind of behavior from my team, I put a bounty on Scott's head.  A quarter and a no-cash-value token would be given to the man who plinked Scott!  Yes, you heard me straight!  25 cents and a token.

   The game was on.  And we did wonderful.  We thought it fitting to take out his team first.  Leave him all alone.  Everyone was gone except him.  I took the right side opponent's out and just kept moving up.  The ref went straight up the middle.

   And I shot Scott.  It took some care and moving, but I got him.  Actually,  I hit him in the marker, but he convulsed and took cover, so I thought he was panicking.

   I ended by shooting him in the butt.

    Ha ha ha aha ha ha ahah hah!!

   Ok, so that was unfortunate.  We played some more immediately.  This game was even better.  At break, I went up to nearly the middle, staying behind some orange barrels.  Only Scottie was shooting at me.  I was so put off by not being fired at that I kept at the same spot for almost a minute or two, looking around and seeing nobody anywhere close.  So I moved up to the snake and I looked for cross shots.

   There were none.

   I was very confused.

   Anyway, we were winning and I know they lost some guys, so I started crawling with nothing but a slightly low ditch that ran up the field as cover.  So I took twenty feet crawling... and then some team mate of mine ran over me and took a bunker.  People laughed.

   It was even funnier when Jim was shot.  He slowly walked off the field and he had a good laugh, because he didn't see my friend who jumped over me or me.  We were within seven feet and he didn't see us.

   So I crawled up and my pal ran to the bunker Scottie was at.  Now, at this field, they don't like bunkering.  I actually had Scottie in my sights and I was going to take a careful shot on him (he didn't see me), but I didn't want my pal to be called out for charging, so I dashed out and shot Scottie in the butt, again.  He says I missed, but I got him.  He called himself out due to paint shortages, so it was unnecessary.

   These guys were so unaggressive that there was someone in the last bunker, so when the ref said he 'thought that was it', I shot the last guy and said 'now it's over'.  I also made a final run.  They were all gone.

   So, two games in a row, and two Scottie eliminations.  Sorry.
 
 

   To be fair, one of Scottie's friends described him as 'pretty good for someone who never played before'.  And I agree.  He shoots well and takes cover without exposing half of his body.  And he listens when I say things like "Is it clear?" and "Cover me!" instead of sleeping in the shade like that Jamaican guy.

   Still shot him good, though.