Why ask Why? Paintball or Die!

My roomy Mike got back from New York and told me that he got his hands on a paintball gun. This is a can of worms. “Why”, you may ask? Because, I love paintball but it can be frustrating to say the least.

For one reason, organizing a day of paintball with friends can be an overwhelming process. You can call all sorts of people who do or do not have guns and who will tell you they may or may not be there. Then on the morning of two people will show up and the others decided not to come for various reasons. Then there is the cost. For a paintball gun to operate you need CO2, ammo, and parts (O-rings, oil, etc.) and all of these things add up. Not to mention that you need a place to play. I hate playing at a local paintball field where you have to pay to play and then you have to be grouped with either FNG’s (Fucking New Guys) or the ever present rich kids who are toting the latest in paintball technology.

I know what you’re all thinking too “Why not just let others invite you and let them do all the planning?” I will, but its going to scratch at my brain every time I think that there could be a game in the works and its going to fall through.

All that aside, I love paintball. The times I have spent in the woods shooting mercilessly at my comrades have been some really good memories. I love the feeling of hunting and being hunted. I love that awesome feeling when you have shot two guys and are going on to your third or fourth for a win. It’s great! You get this sort of constant adrenalin rush. Even coming back at the end of a day of all out war and cleaning your gun while hanging out with your team and discussing the events on the field can be exhilarating.

My feelings though are conflicted. Not long ago I had resigned myself to never play paintball again. The sport is expensive and time consuming. The gear sits even now in a duffle bag at the back of a storage closet. It hasn’t seen the light of day for almost a year. I’ve even tossed around the idea of selling it, but I don’t think I can. I find myself dreaming of pulling out the body armor and re-fixing my rig. I know this will just drive me nuts in the end, but I can’t help it. Right now I just want to run through the woods like a kid and mock-kill all who stand in my way. I bet I would feel this way about rock climbing if I was living back up in Georgia and the cliffs were a mere 20min bike ride away. Climbing or biking or hiking is all cool because you need no one else to do them. Oh well, I guess I’ll just wait until Mike gets his gun and then just let events unfold as they will.