My friend Rob is an Australian student who goes to SVA here in NYC. We met at a con, he had an accent, I made bad jokes about Outback steakhouse, Croc Dundee and Steve Irwin (which I know is dumb but I did it anyway). Rob laughed and now were friends.
So we went paintballing yesterday. Its been 10 years since Ive gone paintballing and Ill be damned if that sport hasnt changed. Last time I paintballed almost no one knew about it. The guns were pump-action and gravity fed. People would wear whatever dirty army gear they could find as camo, throw on a pair of sneakers, and shoot the shit out of each other for a day. Then theyd retire forever.
So as a heads up, Rob emailed me a Youtube video that featured the new artillery: a battery powered, M16-sized rifle with an electric powered hopper that sounded like Satan when you pulled the trigger. It had blinking lights and everything. After watching the victims in that video get painted orange in about 5 seconds, I shut my laptop knowing I was in deep shit.
A little about me.
I love the History Channel. I love learning about battles and tactics and armies and victories and defeats. Part of me feels like, one day, NYC could turn to shit and marshal law will set in, which is why Im getting a gun license. I dont know why Im like this, but theres something inside me (which is inside a lot of males) which feels like I should know something about survival and tactics because, one day, it might save my life. I have no desire to kill, I dont like violence, but Im a realist. I helped a veterinarian friend neuter and spay a bunch of cats once and had no problem cutting into flesh, mopping up blood, and snipping tubes and guts and then patching it back up.
And from what Ive read of Tsun Su, a smattering of military books about sniping and my new love of Terry Schappert and his show Warriors, I know these things to be true:
1. Having a plan beats having no plan.
2. The struggle begins before the battle.
3. Intelligence is the most valuable weapon.
So to prepare for whats sure to be a paint-fest with me as the canvas, I hit the web looking for basic tips and tactical info for paintball. (By the way, most of these sites had more spelling errors than a porn website, which is suggestive of the types of people who paintball too often. But I tried not to underestimate them because knowing my ABCs isnt going to matter when getting throttled by little kids with heavy artillery.)
The preparation helped but it was no match for experience, something which I was expecting. And even though I probably hit the gym more than most of the other players, gym muscle isnt the best kind of muscle for paintballing. The best muscle for ANYTHING is the muscle you gain through doing it over and over. Thus, everyone was less tired than I was.
Having a battle plan? Great in theory but hard to execute on the field.
Intelligence gathering? From what I gathered, I sucked at paintball.
The struggle begins before the battle? This was true
as I struggled to understand why I agreed to paintball in the first place.
But because I knew that THEY knew I that sucked, I tried to make a show of it. Usually I was the one running forward and taking stupid changes to try and flank, get an angle and create a crossfire. So even though I wasnt good, at least they saw I had potential. People who are willing to take chances throw an uncertainty into the mix, which can throw people off. (And yes, I mash the buttons when playing Street Fighter and usually win, thus pissing off the players who take it too seriously.)
All in all, I stand by my original decision to be informed and do research before the battle. By getting ahead and drawing fire I was at least offering opportunities to my team. Ive always had respect for people in the armed forces (and I wouldnt berate them by comparing real war to paintball), but paintballing did tighten my respect for the elements of what a real battle consists of.
The second blow to my ego was when we got back to Robs place and drank a few beers.
Rob hooked me up with some comics to look at, one of which was The Essential Wolverine drawn by Buscema, Byrne, Williams, Janson, and Sienkiewicz. Reading it reminded me that Ive always loved Buscema but never give him the props he deserves nor studied him like I should have.
After looking over his art for an hour this morning, my stuff looks less like art and more like Sean covered in paintball-paint while getting beaten down by Terry Schappert, neutered cats, and a bunch of kids who are better at paintball than I am.