Two weeks ago I had the pleasure of joining my fellow RIT Paintball teammates in our (unfortunately) annual tournament – this year we chose to compete in the NPPL Surf City Open, hosted by Huntington Beach in Los Angeles, California. Last year we congregated with other collegiate paintball teams at the NCPA Finals in Lakeland, Florida, so we decided to switch it up and hit the west coast up for some delightful weather, amazing scenery, and of course the greatest game ever made (you’re welcome to disagree). Read my tale and reflection (and some more photos) after the break.
Our journey to the Golden State was not the most pleasant one. On the way to the Rochester airport, we received a call that one of our 6 AM flights had been cancelled, and my teammates on that flight were transferred to a plane leaving from a terminal in Buffalo. Thankfully my seat was still intact, but half the team had to pile back into the cars and drive for another hour, barely making it on the aircraft. After connecting in Altanta, Georgia (not the most direct connection) and then nearly passing over the Grand Canyon, we landed at LAX around noon – in Pacific time. We met up with the rest of the team and headed to the NPPL fields in our rented convoy of vans.
It was a wondrous thing being in California – in LA no less. The architecture was filled with wavy-tile roofs and stucco exteriors. Every house seemed to belong in its environment. Every car was clean – no mud splatter on the skirts or tires. The atmosphere seemed so perfect. I now know why movies are shot there. But we were there to mark our territory. Using plastic balls of paint. Three days of splatwars were ahead of us, so we needed to get some sleep.
Waking up with three hours of bedrest, we packed our gear and headed to the field. Our team had enough players to split into two lines, an A and B team (or Orange and Black as they were listed). While I have several years under my belt as a paintballer, this was only my second year in speedball – with no real tournament experience – and as such was set on the B team. As cool as it would be to play with my better friends, being able to play the sport I love and having fun doing it was my only goals for this event. And as it turned out, most teams were better than my line. As the games progressed a handful of player “kills” kept us out of last place, but with no flag pulls or hangs we remained a bottom contender. Our A line, however, was on fire with a 5-game winning streak for the first day, possibly giving them a spot in the finals. I was so happy for them I didn’t even care to check my own line’s rank.
The next day our luck continued as it had. My line struggled to get points while the other line shook opponents teams to the bone. At the end of the day, I was happy with having gotten a few people out. But we all cheered when we heard our A line made it into the final eight. We Made It To Sunday.
Waking up early again was a chore, but we were too excited to see how the final day would play out – literally – that we were on the road to the beach quickly. We set up the pit and organized our paint into pods for use during the day. After the first couple games our team took a break and enjoyed the ocean a stone’s throw away. Taking one’s mind off the game definitely helped focus and relax the mind and body.A setback or two rattled our finalist line, but we powered back in the end, placing as one of the final four teams.
As we waited for the National Anthem to be performed, we found that one of the final teams had been cheating during some games, using outside assistance to signal the locations of opposing players. After alerting the referees, we and the two other remaining teams decided to block the view of any bystanders associated with them using anyone who wasn’t playing. It is amazing how even in the final games, competing teams come together to defend the sport against those who would undermine it.
Our first final game ended it a loss, unfortunately meaning we would play for third or fourth place. Our opponent was another far-traveling team from Hawaii. As the game progressed it appeared we were going to lose – but out of nowhere one of ours bolts down the field in a suicide run, somehow taking only bounces in the chest and arms. He takes out the last players with the help of another RIT player and TAKE THE WIN. We cheered and yelled, overflowing with joy. For coming so far, it was one of our randomly stupid plays that ended giving us the third place trophy.
While the win was a great victory for us, the games weren’t over. The cheating team had made it to the play for the first place title. We cheered for the other team and, standing in front of the opposing onlookers, watched as the game ended with the clock running out – a stalemate. As the rules stated, a tie-breaking game would be played as a one-on-one. Before the stalemate our friendly team had lost one of its markers to technical difficulties and one of our players lent his gun to them. As if by fate, the player with that borrowed gun was chosen to represent the team in the final match. As the game started, we were all silent. Everyone was on their toes (literally – we were told to back away from the net and many people squeezed onto the wooden walkway, out of the sand) as the players raced at each other, paint whizzing by their faces. The important play in a one vs. one game is to try to lose your opponent. As the cheating team’s player moved up to the center of the field, we feared the worst. But suddenly he looked nervous – the move lost his lock on his opponent. We realized this as the other player rushed silently down the other side of the field. He raised the borrowed gun, pulled the trigger, and the crowd erupted. A hit! We were so happy the right team won, and justice was served.
My previous point about teams coming together was proven again when we were approached by the Hawaiian team after the final match. They had brought boxes of native chocolates and were giving them out to the finalists! We were so surprised by this act of generosity that we struggled to return the favor. Out of one of our player’s bags came an RIT t-shirt, which we all signed and congratulated the Hawaiian team, who we hoped to see again someday. They were grateful for the gift and invited us to play on their field in Hawaii, right next to the airport.
The level of sportsmanship at this tournament was jawdropping. Apart from the amazing efforts to stop the cheating and the amazing acts of kindness, opposing teams would always wish each other luck before the game and congratulate afterwards. There were no violent rivalries here – everyone was present for one reason, to play paintball. The sport brought all of us together, so why spoil it by making enemies?
Returning home allowed me to reflect on how much this sport has impacted my life. From my first Walmart-stocked Brass Eagle Eradicator to my Invert Mini, from my first game in my best friend’s backyard woods to the sandy, turf-laid fields of California, paintball has given me happiness, strengthened friendships, and created new ones. It was relieved me of life’s stress and pumped my adrenaline so hard I’ve had shaky hands. This sport brings out the primal feelings and emotions every living thing has – the joy of the hunt. And a better way to hunt than to shoot your friends and laugh about it later?
If you have not tried a game of paintball, it is definitely worth your time. You don’t need a $1500 marker to enjoy it either – find a local field and rent some equipment. Bring some friends with you. Pack a lunch. Spend a day playing the most hairy, action-packed sport ever invented. You’ll have stories. We all do.
PS: Sand is the bane of all paintball equipment.
Photos courtesy of Paintball Photography and Almost Famous Paintball.
