Paintballing Problems (Blog 96)

Paintballing with three friends who are supposedly on your team: Is that fun, frustrating or just plain baffling? Well, one of the first things all players notice when entering the place where they pick up their guns, is a sign simply saying ‘do not shoot this sign’. Eventually, I rightly pointed out it was pointless, but at the back of my mind, I assumed it served at least some purpose. It wasn’t until I got home from the event I thought to myself… ‘Hang on, that sign was COMPLETELY pointless as that’s all that was written on it’. It would have made sense if it provided lighting or other information for example, but it didn’t. There was nothing. I pondered hard to try and solve the problem, but to no avail. I couldn’t think of a damn thing. It had to be some kind of practical joke, but that alone would be strange. None of the staff goofed around even once, they kept going on about how people could be blinded by oncoming pellets if they removed their helmets. What was at first a simple warning turned into a huge paradox only those with extremely high IQs could solve.

Was the in game action any less infuriating? Well no, as I’ll explain: Of course getting shot twice or even thrice by the same person is perfectly understandable, as sometimes people fire in bursts to ensure they hit their enemies. However, some guy shot me five or six times in the same place over way too long a time span for it to be justified. I immediately made it clear I was most likely seriously bruised (which I later found I was) by my various expletives, (oops :S) so the perpetrator had no excuse to keep firing. Why did he do so? My theory was he was just as frustrated at not hitting targets as I was. I remember when I was young me playing Age Of Empires online, and me very rarely winning. When I finally came up against a weak opponent who I knew I was going to beat, I went nuclear by building an absolutely massive army to destroy his tiny village. Just to relish the moment. You can see the parallels, right? To my regret, I’m sure the guy all those years ago was thinking ‘what a wanker’ just as I was on the paint covered battlefield.

The day on the whole wasn’t looking too promising. I kept getting pulverised, (sometimes even in the respawning area where people ‘rest’ for a bit after getting shot) and I was concerned that I wouldn’t hit anyone. But then, out of the blue, I got some guy pushing his luck by wearing everyday clothing. I thought of myself as pretty badass by not wearing armour under my army attire, but he took things further. My theory was by not wearing padding I would be more cautious and therefore more successful, but clearly that was nonsense. Anyway, I realised my goals were fulfilled when my victim put his hands in the air to surrender. Did I shoot him after that, just because I could? Nope. I didn’t. Coincidentally, the only match where I hit someone was the only one I didn’t get shot in, and it was the only match my team won. Or was it a coincidence? Maybe it was ME who won the thing. Well, maybe not. In total I got hit around 20 times and a 20/1 ratio is not good for any soldier. If my allies were dependent on me, they were retards. Perhaps not such a ridiculous thing to say, however, as one the FRIENDS I was with once shot my right in the heart ‘accidentally’.

My general philosophy was to just shoot those not on my team, I didn’t worry about how to capture the flag or whatever. As was explained my soldiering skills are rather basic. Had I listened to the various game rules given out by the employees and played even further beyond my abilities, things could have turned out even worse for me. In my defence though, my weapon was f**ing useless. An other time I had a great chance of hitting someone, my gun jammed, a lot of the time it only fired about 20 feet, and half of the time the ammo came out in pretty much all directions. In a further instance, I also could have shot someone on the opposing team, but I couldn’t see his arm band. Thus, I couldn’t tell if he was friend or foe. I should have just shot him. If I suspected he was the ‘friend’ who shot me, I also probably would have went for him. Just to be a right bastard.

Towards the end of the outing in the civilian zone and in peace time, the staff members got those who were celebrating their birthdays to say it was their special day on a speaker system. However, few really cared. Many of the people there were hardened soldiers with severe bruising and not the kind of people who go ‘good for you!’ After all that mock-war business, my three amigos travelled to a pub for a much needed break. I still felt somewhat like a cripple in the car but in a good, relaxed way. Beers brewed by Iron Maiden were discussed and enjoyed (by me) outside and in the seemingly late-Summery October weather. Too everyone’s relief, no one got shot. And for the 96th time…. … .. . .. … …. Bye!