Paint Ball

Now remember how I said that I enjoy looking out for extraordinary things to do?

Yes, paintball, not extremely extraordinary in itself, has been at the back of my mind for quite some time now.
Well, not MY mind per se, but a friend's who has been going on and On and ON and ON and ON and ON about paintball everytime I met him.

So finally, on a bright sprightly Saturday on the 9th day in the month of August year 2009, 20 brave souls made their way to the A1 Paintball pitch based here in Edinburgh.

Ok, first of all, let me give you some background. I have played paintball before.

Oh yes.

Way back then when I was a wee 19 year old with my A Level friends in Extreme Park Malaysia. And my second time was back in first year at some other spot in Edinburgh with some friends from the Asian Friends Society.
All I remember of the first time was that my friend Rei Ka suffered a skin abrasion the size of a penny on her arm and also puked at the sidelines because of her terrific gallantry that brought nothing but victory to my team.
The second time I remember the hammering in my heart as I brought the canister that is supposed to be delivered to the enemy's base up front for the warriors in my team to skip over the cross fire and bring us the triumph we deserve.

But for what my money's worth, I remember both times that the pain inflicted by that darn paintball is nothing less than pure agony. ESPECIALLY if it was point blank.

So really, paint ball isn't something new to me.

But since I have not played in about 4 years and also me friend is going to return to Brunei like very, very soon, I jumped at the chance.

A few inquiries to those that exist around me brought the number of our group up to a formidable 20.

Of course, it HAD to rain that morning and of course, the bus driver HAD to tell us the wrong stop to get off at and of course, another 1/2 of us HAD to lose our way there.


Still, 2 hours later than scheduled, 20 Edinburghans, ranging from medical students to biology and engineering and nationalities from SEA including Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei, Thailand, Indonesia and Hong Kong gathered together at the base, ready to Kick Ass.

After changing into the rather flattering army suits, and strapping on the almost attractive head gear, complete with finger enhancing gloves, we were ready to rock n' roll.

Of course, changing where everyone can see you is the way forward.

What did I say about kick ass?

So we were then divided into 2 teams, handed our guns and marched out into the muddy battlefield.

Yes. Muddy like there is no tomorrow. And when the marshals yelled 3, 2, 1 and START! we scrambled like scared rabbits, backs bent doubled, finger on trigger, feet stepping into the ankle high mud, eyes darting like squirrels and basically tried to hide our big bodies behind whatever that was available.

And my team lost. Because we have too many big people thus providing easy targets.

Well, that's just an excuse. The real reason was that the enemy crept right up to our base and no one saw him. -_-"'

We probably all need glasses.

Never mind.

Round 2.

Now. This was when things got a little tricky.

Already tired with squatting so much (this did not agree with my thighs at all really) and also oozing sweat from every pore, the almost attractive head gear I was wearing started to tooting FOG up.

Right.
It is very well if I can actually see who or what I am shooting at.
It is even better if I can actually see where I am walking to.
It is probably the best if I could see my hand in front of me.

During the first game, I actually managed to see people through my visor.

And being able to see them, meant I could aim to shoot at them. And hit them.

Hard.

By the time the second game went into full swing, I saw:
Bloomin' fog.

Descending over my field of vision, cutting off my ability to estimate direction, destroying my precise calculations of the time it takes my bullet to reach the enemy, interfering with my meticulous ciphering of the wind's velocity and angle, sabotaging my mind sketch of the parabolic curve of bullet travel and thus effectively obliterating my deliverance of head shots straight to the Nemesis's head.

And so I had to endure either shooting blindly or slipping my hand into the visor to wipe the pestiferous vapour away every other second.

I chose the latter.

Which I paid dearly for because I was shot at mercilessly during our last game, where we were led into the silliest battle ever, called No Man's Land.
What do you do? You go, run, hide and shoot your comrade, brother, sister, acquaintance, colleague... just shoot at bloomin' everybody.

Yes.
No rules, no feelings, just pure brutality.


See the yellow marks all over the suit?


The by product of paint ball.
This definitely beats Rei Ka's penny size bruise all the way up the Great Wall of China and back.

For the faint hearted?

Definitely not.