"Sissy"

This is my side of the story and I'm stickin' to it.

A bunch of us guys got together to go play Paint Ball. For those of you who are not aware of this fine game it is sort of like "Capture the flag" we played as kids except now you get to shoot people with guns that fire small, marble sized paint balls. If the paint ball hits and breaks on your opponent, he/she is "dead" and out of the game. If they are dead they go to the "dead zone" where they can watch the rest of the game but are not allowed to coach anyone still alive. Each game lasts about 20 minutes or until one of two teams wins. You win by stealing the other team's flag and taking it back to your fort. There is a referee with us at all times to make sure we follow the rules and play fair. For those of you who have played this game, you know it hurts like crazy when you are (inevitably) hit by a paint ball that leaves the muzzle of the gun at 280 feet per second. You carry large purple bruises all over your body for the next two weeks.

It's great sport.

So, here we are, about 14 of us (seven per team), blasting away at each other. My team is defending a "village" against the egg sucking dogs on the other team. I'm getting my butt kick by some twelve year old kid. A late arrival enters the dead zone and awaits the end of the game so he can join us in the next game. We don't know this guy, he's just a "walk on". No prob.

Except he starts coaching my opponent from the dead zone!

What the heck is this?!?! NO COACHING FROM THE DEAD ZONE!! Besides, did I mention this kid is already kicking my butt?

Wanting to gently remind this clown that dead people don't coach, I fire four fast rounds right by his head. The only reason my shots whizzed by his head is because I'm a lousy shot. I was aiming for his head (he was wearing his protective face mask per the rules).

Well, he shuts up and we play the "glare at each other" game for a few seconds. A short time later the kid gets in a lucky shot, because he is a better shot that I, and tags me with a paint ball. I'm dead and head towards the dead zone, where my new friend awaits me.

As I arrive in the dead zone he asks me if I'm the guy that shot at him. I confirm I am indeed that party ("You bet your ass I am"). He proceeds to inform me that I shouldn't shoot at people in the dead zone. I remind him that dead people don't coach live players (especially twelve year olds that are already kicking my butt, however I don't mention that to this guy).

So, we get into this intellectual discussion: "Don't shoot"...."Don't coach"...."Don't shoot"...."Don't coach".... and on it goes. I grow weary of the game and frankly was getting a little pissed off. Wanting to only have a good time at the paint ball games I just walk away from this clown to cool down.

The game ends with us successfully defending our village, even without my expert marksmanship.

My new friend joins the other team.

Oh, this is going to get interesting.

We move onto the next game.

My team defends a fort whilst the other team attacks and attempts to capture our flag. The other team fails to execute an aggressive attack, so part way through the (boring) game my two sons, who are on my team, start egging on the aggressors by calling them sissies. "Come on you sissies, attack us", as well as other thought provoking comments. I'm proud to say that my kids inherited my fine sense of maturity. Out of the woods comes this voice "Ref, are you going to let them get away with that?". It's my new friend and he doesn't like our name calling. The referee looks a little puzzled as "sissies" is probably not the worst name calling he's heard in the heat of paint ball combat. After this game ends, once again in victory for us as we successfully defended our fort against these (non)attackers, I ask the ref about the name calling. He says he doesn't care if we call them sissies, it just seems to be hurting the other guy's feelings. Since the ref is not concerned about us calling the other team names, neither am I.

Onto the next game where the other team now tries to defend the fort against our snarling attack.

As the game begins I take the LONG way around the fort, through the woods undetected, to attack the fort from the back. I've discovered in these paint ball games that it is much easier to shoot my opponent in the back, and the cool thing is that it's ALLOWED!!! So off I go through the woods. Sure enough, as I'm sneaking up from behind I spot two opponents facing towards the fort they are defending. Their backs are to me. Perfect!! One of the shooters is a kid and the other one is my new friend.

Hmmm, this could be sweet.

I slowly sneak up on one of the shooters (the kid) and carefully shoot him in the back from about thirty feet away. One down, one to go. I thought that my new friend would hear me shoot the first kid and we'd have to shoot it out man to man, but no, my friend is so focused on what he's doing (shooting my team mates) that he doesn't hear me shoot his team mate. So, I start sneaking up on my new friend to fry his ass when the kid that I just shot, who is now dead and not supposed to talk, warns my opponent that I'm sneaking up behind him. Just as my new friend starts to turn around I shoot him several times. He's dead as well, despite the kid playing "dead man talking".

Well, it seems that my new friend is mad at me because I hit him two or three times. Poor baby. Keep in mind that he was turning around to shoot me so I just blast away to make sure I got him first. I have learned that if you can't aim, then throw a lot of lead (paint). So, he comes storming up to me grouching about how I shot him several times and I didn't have to shoot that many times and ... and ... and ... "Who do you think you are, Rambo?", etc.

Well, actually I DO think I'm Rambo, in a paint ball sort of way.

What a whiner.

First he coaches from the dead zone, then he whines about us calling his team sissies, and now he's miffed because I busted him from behind with several shots.

Cripes.

So, there we stand, toe to toe with him mouthing off once again. As he takes a breath to continue the verbal barrage I look him square in the eyes and I says to him I says ...... "Sissy".

Whoa Nellie! Did he blow up!!! It's like he was insulted or something. He shouts "Are you people crazy or something?!?!" and shoves me into a tree.

Now I know that my "flight or fight" instinct is supposed to kick in at this point but frankly both instincts abandoned me. I just burst out laughing. I did not feel threatened and for some inexplicable reason I thought it was hilarious that this guy was so mad at me that he had to resort to "hand to hand combat". I guess my laughing caught him off guard as he stopped pushing me around. No harm done.

In the mean time, I get shot by an opponent who took advantage of the situation while I was otherwise engaged with my new friend. I looked down at my leg that was now bleeding yellow paint and thought "Well, I would have done the same thing; good shot".

My son Jim who witnessed the whole thing from the dead zone, hollered at the two of us to knock it off and get to the dead zone. So, we did. Jim suggested to my new friend that he should consider taking up bowling or some other game where there is less chance of his feelings getting hurt.

Things were a little frosty between the two of us the rest of the day, but my new friend and I managed to behave ourselves.

Some of us are planning on getting another team together for another round of paint ball sometime soon.

Sure hope my new friend is there.

Wanna come out and play?