Well, we were at the same field as my previous injury occured and I had it set in my mind I wasn't going to get hurt today. I was wrong. The people I were playing with were a bit different, so let me tell you about them. Mr. Kerbo was the first, he was my seventh and eighth grade science teacher, and my favorite teacher by far. An avid pump player who was a non conformist; never thinking about buying a semi-automatic paintball marker. Then there was Wes; an energetic newbie player who was ready to learn. Mr. Wagner; theres much to say about him, a newbie just looking to have a fun time on the field. And I, the veteran of the field and the sport, the teacher to some of the newbies.
Some of the guys thought It fun to have a game of young people (students) against the old guys. I accepted readily for I just wanted to bunker Mr. Kerbo. At first it was a slow moving game, Wagner and Kerbo stayed behing the same pillbox I had fallen off of two weeks earlier. This made them easy targets. Becasue I have a smallish voice it was kinda hard for me to yell to the guys to move up, although I tried. About 10 minutes into the game I was getting tired of this and made an attempt to charge the pillbox.
I almost had Kerbo, and I'm sure I shot him twice, but I stumbled in my dash downhill. THere was a huge tree limb at my feet and about four big rocks and about a dozen of smaller rocks trailing after them. Well, I tripped on the tree limbs, fell, flipping -I was told- over the rocks to the base of the hill. I landed pretty much at Kerbo's feet. Both of us were screaming "Surrender!!!!" at each other, thoguh he had it. I walked off that field with deepish cuts all down my arms, and a hopper full of nasty broken paint.
Though funny, I still had Kerbo in games to come. But that's a different tale to tell. |
