Comet, covering the barrels. May 2, 1998

After the Armageddon game, I was going to retire Comet, at least the flannel jumpsuit version. But with a month to go before the Racine game I just didn't have the time to sew a new suit. My girlfriend was making a quilt, her daughter was making a dress, I got so sick that Zithromax wasn't enough to shake whatever I had and spiked a 103.8 temp... No time at all... So I made the best of what I had. It took a little bit, but I managed to scrap new antlers together (They looked awful up close, but at distance they're allright.) I also contacted Reds Comfort Gear and got a set of knee & shin guards to protect the suit a little bit. (Great stuff! Total recommend!) I also want to say that I hadn't intended to yell a lot, because of my throat. While I was sick, a tonsil had swelled up a lot and it hurt to swallow. Yelling was bad, I had to save what little throat I had left for the future.

When we did get to the field it was raining. I mean raining badly. It was wet to begin with, but now with more humidity and more rain... Let's just say I was happy to have Combat Visions. Everyone was fogging up badly, I had some problems because rain was running down the inside of my lenses, but I had no fogging problems.

(I'm sorry if that sounds like an ad for CV's, but they make a great product!)

Anyhow, Team Internet was about to all go to the Blue team when the refs asked us if we'd like to go White instead. Classically, White gets the snot kicked out of them every year. But, we figured we were in it for the fun, so we'll go for it. Why not?

Fred Schultz was there again this year, and he was also on White. Cool. We had a chance. Game 1 started from the 'close' fort. They had remodeled it, and rebuilt the inside. Very nice job, and it looked VERY sweet.

On the first run out we got bogged into a stand-still firefight with the Blue team. I tagged a guy in the goggles 3 times and he kept on shooting. Oh well, you always get 'em. Feh. Shives was shooting at the same area, and we figured that we got a few of them before they tagged both of us. Oh well, that's life. blue won the game, eventually. We expected that.

Game 2 was much more interesting. Not to mention a lot longer. I missed breakfast that morning (2 hours of sleep, and driving and all that, I was getting hungry.) So once again I invoked my curse. "All I want to do is go out, shoot it up, and get shot so I can eat a sandwich." Silly me.

We started at the far fort, the one on the hill. We decided to take the barrels HARD, and slam the right tapeline with everyone we had. Freddy was leading the charge. I got to the barrels first, and ran all the way up the gut. The barrels were ours. I had the faster line than Fred.

Freddy took command while I was reloading and started a steady push along the wire. We stalled a moment, but Team Internet managed to shove people forward again. Freddy got to about the blue entry point (about 200 yards past the barrels, about.) before he got taken out. As he passed me he said "Take 'im through!"

"You got it!" I said, and started yelling to get people to go. So much for my throat. Fortunately, I had Matt, Kennedy and Kendrick to shove people around. I also should mention Chuppas, Dan and his crowd. They're good at motivation as well. Well done gang.

We pushed down a trail, through ankle-deep water, and eventually made a move in for the fort. I lost track of our left force, but I heard some shooting that way. The right was holding solid, so I made a slow crawl towards the left. Comet is flannel, I've never done long crawls in the suit before. The knee pads helped a lot.

I made a move for the tape, and ran into a guy there. Nothing touched me in his opening volley. Classical 1-on-1 situation, and I had a few bounce off the visor and off my body. (Humidity, not bad paint, bad humidity.) And I ran out of paint. oops. So I asked (half joking) "Hey, would you stop shooting a sec so I can reload?"

He said "Sure. Go ahead." He was out of paint, he said later, but I still think that's a good sport about things. As I was reloading I was trying to tell him I would buy him a soda after the game, but he never did take me up on it. (Next October! Remind me!) He bailed.

Around this time I heard the delightful sounds of Shives taunting the blues. "You better run away! I'm a big fat gun in a red suit!" he screamed. And I yelled to him "Sure. It's Insanity Clause!" (not a typo, this is what I meant...) And he ran with it. (I love these guys...)

I made a swing move to the back of the fort. I ran into the guy who let me reload, he was out by then. Ran into some more blues behind the fort, one took some shots at me (ANOTHER 1-on-1...) and I used all the tricks I knew. I only had 15 balls in my loader at the time. Beautiful shot through a 6 inch hole in the treeline and tagged him in the harness. It was kinda nice to see someone check their harness after he heard the impact. It was part luck, part skill. (mostly luck)

So I took his spot, and watched the fort assault from concealment. After five minutes of nothing, about 10 more white players came from behind and said "What's going on?" I directed them to the back hill, which we swept. I broke cover and made a dash for the fort. I used it for cover from the hospital side, and watched as Chupas made his flag grab. All's well.

We sent a force on the tape to bring it back. We hugged it so tight there wasn't any room to breathe. I was near the back, and I listened to the field. I heard a firefight that we slipped by on our right, which was the blue team's flag return. They were closer to winning, and we had a lot of room to make up.

I did some math. 5 balls in the loader, 2 ounces of air in a 20 ounce tank, and a prolonged firefight. That equals "Totally useless" in my book. So I broke away from the flag return after passing the blue defenses. "Where ya going?" someone said.

"I'm gonna see if I can rambo some of these guys."

"Good luck!" The Racine game has a "Rambo" rule. If you can get up on someone and touch them with your hand, they are eliminated. Surrenders are useless, but a hand touch is good. It's the sneaky way to do eliminations, and it's less painful.

So I started into a stealth mode (in a deer suit...) and found the flag runner in the back with two guards in FRONT of him. I walked over to the first guard. He turned around and waved. I waved back, and tapped him on the shoulder. "You are eliminated." then the second guard. "You are eliminated." Then the flag carrier. "You are eliminated."

Basically, I stopped the flag runner, preventing the blue team from winning.

Anyhow, after that a blue player realized what was going on. He turned around, eyes wider than dinner plates, and said "Are you LIVE?!?!?"

My gun was down, and I wasn't about to fastdraw this guy. "Yeah. But if you ask me to surrender I will." I didn't want to give up, that would have been lame to him and me.

He looked very confused for a moment, and finally said "Surrender."

"Okay." And I plugged my gun. We all shared a kind of cumulative sigh of relief, that could have been ugly if it was a shootout. Besides, I got the flag runner, and nobody chased it back to reclaim it. the game ended to 'time', even though we had a return party taking it in.

Between games I didn't have time to really reload, or eat, or get warm. I was wet, tired, sore, and hungry. I thought of sitting it out again, but I didn't want to. Mostly because I could eat later, I had warm clothes, and everyone wants to shoot the deer. So why not?

Trudge back towards the close fort again, but I ran into the 'front line' of players first. No problem, just go with them. I found Ken, Matt, and Kennedy going the 'long way' to the fort. Around the back side of the field. Long route, but worth it if you're patient.

We made a stand in the swampy area near the "Dead car" I got hit in the tank, which is a wound. "Wounded!" I yell. "Medic?" I yell. "Wounded here! Need white medic!" I yelled. "How about a veterinarian?!?" And finally Dan shows up. Taped the gun, I was good to go again.

I lagged behind a little, I was shooting the Piranha and figured I would do some longballing. I have a picture of this, but it didn't scan well. I was shooting into a small hole, and helped to get the blue player out of there. I turn around to see what my teammates are doing, and there's about 5 guys HIDING BEHIND ME!!! I'm a big guy, but come on!

We made a steady push towards the blue fort, I splintered off going left center. I was going to shoot at a few blue guys, but his own team took him out for me. So I just watched the plays go down. Some blue player then starts to unload on me.

That brings me to a question in paintball. Why is it that a shooter will scream "Check yourself buddy!" while they're shooting at you, knowing damn full and well that you can't check yourself while they're shooting at you? Mysterious.

It ended up that he hit me in the loader. "WOUNDED!" I yell. He unloads on me again. "I'M WOUNDED!" I scream, again. He unloads again. After screaming at him that I was wounded a seventh time he yells back :

"Now you're dead" and a few verbs I can't repeat and have RASCII still like my pages.

"You can't shoot wounded players." I say.

"Yes I can!" he screams back, and raises his gun. At this point a referee intervened and read him the riot act about overshooting, and listening to the orientation. He was reminded that a wounded player is not a live player, and may not be shot at again. (I'm giving the kinder version of what he said to the guy...) It's nice to know that, occasionally, I get to be right.

There were no medics around, so I walked back. Headshot bit my head off when I walked past him (Something about "shut up" and a reference to copulation...) I was going to the white hospital when the blue team ran past me with the flag. I was hoping that we were close to the blue fort at that time, but I couldn't be sure.

I took a picture of the blue team occupying the fort, and said "Hi" to Biff Thiele. He's one of the refs, and he also writes of Paintball News. So I stopped to talk with him for a while about reporting, and so on. And as we talked blue players left the fort. Then more blue players left the fort. Then even MORE left... I figured if I sat around long enough I could retake the fort after going into the hospital.

The game ended, however. And I saw about 30 blue players pour out of the woods. "Then again, perhaps not." I hitched a ride back up with the refs in a truck.

Game 4 was being organized, but I wouldn't have any of it. I was too tired, cold, and wet to go for another. Again, that's life. Pack up, head home, sleep.

After all that, however, it's obvious to me I need to make a new suit. The current one is, well, beaten up. I dragged it out for one more game, and it held. Partially because of the knee pads, partially because I willed it to hold. I have a week or so, I'll try to make a new one. If I can't it'll be a long St. Louis...

A quick pic of the Sam's gang, and extended family. Bigger pic coming, stay tuned.

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