Left to Right John Henry, Tyger, Mike Henry April 25, 1999, Fox River Games Millennium Mission

In order to understand why this image is even here, you have to understand the political background to this picture. It goes back to the December issue of "Paintball 2-Xtremes" magazine. In that issue, they call me a "Rat", they slam pump guns a few times, and then rampage about the internet. That's old news, true. But it's important to set this up. The Henrys, the editors of PB2X, ran a series of "Millennium Missions" all across the USA in 1999. One stop was at Fox River Games, a field I particularly enjoy going to. So, knowing full well the Henrys don't like me or what I stand for (apparently), I went. They were very nice to me, outwardly. I can only imagine what was being said while I wasn't there. Keep scrolling for more!

Anyhow, the format of the day was each team collected points to, eventually, be used in an all-out assault. Don't ask me, it didn't make sense to me either. But one of the ways to get points was to do the 3-man speedball games. 500 points a crack isn't chump change. Since I was disgusted by the play on the field I wanted to get into the 3 man games. We had myself, Chris and Maverick. Chris is a regular at the Sam's game and a guy I know. Maverick was the founder of the Pump Players Internet Group (PPIG), and a good kid. We decided to jump into the fray with stock guns.

Our first game was disastrous. I broke a ball in my PGP and was useless, Chris had never shot a pump gun before, let alone a stock gun, and was totally lost out there not knowing how to do simple things like reload the gun. And Mav, well, he was Mav. We lost, but it took the other team a lot of time to do it. Chris said "You know, shooting the stock gun was a lot of fun. But I'd like to get my toy if that's ok." We laughed and said "Sure. Go for it."

Chris returned with a Danny Love Autococker. Very sweet lines, very sweet action. We waited our turn in line for the red team, and finally got onto the field. At first, we didn't think we'd have opponents. But three blue players showed up, and we had a run for our money. One RT, a Spyder and a Raptor VS 2 PGP's and a Danny Love Cocker.

Sounds fair. We're in.

Chris had knowledge of the Fox River speedball field, and recommended a window bunker that was over half-way up the boundary on the right side. I figured I have the cleats, I may as well use them. The ref yells "3-2-1 GO!" and I take off hard and fast. With 50 feet to the bunker I realize I might not make it and turn on the jets. I do a controlled baseball slide on the muddy field, skidding 20 feet and crashing into the barricade hard. The crowd out of bounds lets out a whoop and holler. In the slide I popped three tubes of paint, and coated them in mud. I threw them over the wall and out of the way and set up to shoot.

I look behind me, Chris is putting down the paint and Mav is trying to get tiny behind a bunker way too small for him. I'm shooting cross court at the guy with the RT, but I can't skinny a ball in on him. He lets a string go at me which I dodge easily. Knowing I can't shoot around the right side of the bunker (the rules said I couldn't, it was on the boundary and was supposed to be 'flush' to the wire) I waited him out and shot a few balls over the top of my wall. I'd shoot a ball, he'd shoot half a hopper, and so on. The RT guy turned his attention to Mav, and after a massive volley of paint eliminated him.

Mr. RT moved up to a fallen tree bunker parallel to my position. From out of bounds I hear a soft voice. "Lean out left. Lean out left now!" It was a red player, so I did with the barrel of my PGP leading the way. The other two players are trying to sneak up the center on Chris, ignoring me. I pop the first guy center mass, which bounced. So with the skill of all my years I "unloaded" on this poor soul, five shots in 10 seconds, and broke one on his back as he was trying to back up. The audience cheered loud as the last player retreated.

Chris was in a toe-to-toe with the RT player at the same time, and put a few choice balls through the trees and nailed him. Two on one now, and the blue player backed up to a laydown in the center of the field. I break cover, placing a lot of barricades between her and me. She shoots a string at me, I simply ducked my head and screamed "She's on me! Move up!" She shifted to Chris, and I began to walk up on her. She committed to the left, I walked around my right side. No, I didn't walk. I STRUTTED towards her. The field had a 10 foot rule in effect, so when I rounded the bunker the refs started yelling "GAME OVER! GAME OVER!" The refs knew I wasn't going to shoot her, but they wanted to avoid that possibility. That's cool. The gal was saying "I'm not hit! Why is the game over?" I cleared my throat with the PGP pointed at her, she nearly jumped out of her skin! I shook her hand for a good game played, they did give us a good run.

Politically speaking, this was an important game. The Henrys, who said that pump guns were for "old farts", were forced to see that a team of two PGP's and a 'Cocker just beat out the semi's in a speedball game. Speedball, supposedly an arena of brute force shooting was instead a stage for style and finesse. And what's more, with a PGP and my brain I got 2 of them. Not to take anything away from Chris, he was putting up one hell of a shootout with the RT.

Which brings me back to the beginning, and this picture. The PGP in the holster on my hip, the Unique harness still holding 12 grams and the tube of paint I didn't bury in mud and me holding a "Certificate of Bravery" given to me for winning a 3-man speedball game (we all got a certificate). And I'm standing WITH Mike and John Henry, the people who preach that pump guns are dead, accepting the award. The irony of this picture is infinitely entertaining. Have you ever seen anyone put on a fake smile like these two guys ever before?

The final irony of this picture is the award itself. It says, and I quote, "...the recipient (of this certificate) earned the respect and admiration of all those who saw the actions the recipient took" It's a mass-produced award, but it was great fun hearing the small crowd cheering not for team loyalty, but for an underdog team. And it was even better that we delivered what they wanted.

As to myself in this picture... "Canary? What canary? I never saw a burp canary..."

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