Paintball - GI Mom

Paintball Mom

by Jenny Ison

Publication Date: May 1999

Recently, we celebrated my son's 15th birthday, and instead of his routine birthday party request, he asked to invite some friends and family to play paintball. This was OK with me, as I had always enjoyed a few rounds of lazer tag and shooting aliens in Area 51.

Josh, his dad, and sister had played paintball and really enjoyed themselves. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to it, but still remained a little apprehensive. Hey...I had read paintball articles before and wasn't looking forward to the sting of those little balls hitting me at a speed of 235 feet per second. Especially, the thought of possibly getting hit in the face.

I was also experiencing some problems with a knee injury and couldn't quite figure out how I could run and hit the dirt to dodge being shot. But, I wasn't going to wimp out, particularly since my son was genuinely wanting me to play. In this day and time, it's not often a teenage son wants to have anything to do with his parents...I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

Josh's birthday came, and I was going onto the field of battle prepared - quilted coveralls, long sleeve T Shirt, camouflage jacket with hood, hiking boots, and thick gloves. Thank goodness it was a cool, spring day!

On the way to Paintball Fun (in Corydon, Indiana) Josh's friends kept telling me how I was going to be the first on their list to shoot. Like I really thought it would work, I kept telling them that I was the "Mom" and you can't shoot the mom.

We arrived at Paintball Fun, signed our waivers and watched a video on the rules and safety of playing paintball. This was a little confusing to this Capricorn, who is always prepared - what did they mean I couldn't take my mask off for any reason? What if my contact lense got dislodged? What if I felt claustrophobic and couldn't breath? Yeah...panic was starting to set in for this 40-something mom.

Josh's dad assured me everything would be alright, just stay with him. OK...this was the guy who crawled on his stomach up the dry creek bed and charged up the center of the field to capture the opponents' flag. But, that was alright, I could always fall back on the excuse of my bad knee.

That knee excuse worked for the first game, but by the time I got up the field, the game was over and I hadn't even pulled the trigger. This wasn't fun, but that knee was actually bothering me. Next game I was going to bow out and divide my ammo between Josh and his friends. However, Josh pleaded with me to try one more game.

OK...I was ready to try again, but this time convinced myself that I would make my way up the right side of the field and get into the action. I was ready. There were ten of us - five on each team. Then, this guy came up and asked if he could join us in a game. Josh, his three friends, and sister immediately grabbed the guy for their team. No problem, except this guy was an experienced paintball player, armed with an automatic weapon! Mom began to panic again.

As planned, I made my way up the right side of the dry creek-bed, dodging from one tree to the next. I was now in position to start firing at my opponents. Hey...this wasn't bad, until rapid fire paintballs started pelting the two trees I was stationed behind. There he was - automatic himself - on the hillside approximately 100 feet away. I fired a few rounds back, but it was difficult for me to determine if my paintballs were reaching him. Then, splat! I took a paintball on the lower left portion of my jacket. I was out of the game.

That was a lot of fun, didn't hurt, and as all those extremists say, "really got my adrenaline pumping!" Next game, I was in...Ten more young men came to join our game. Ten-on-ten, not bad, and none had automatics, which I scrutinized very carefully. This would be OK. I would practice my same strategy as last game.

Game On! It was working, and once again I was in position to start firing at the enemy. It wasn't long before they had me spotted and returned my fire. It was difficult to judge how many were firing at me. Then all of a sudden, I was taking fire from the hillside in the opposite direction. Paintballs were coming at me from both directions now. I was pinned behind those same two "skinny" trees. Wait a minute...I was the only one on my team left on the field. I was being pelted by two guys from down the field on my right and three guys from the hillside to my left.

I could hear my teammates cheering me on - "Get'em Mom!" Oh well, what the heck, I turned and started firing at the two down the field on one side of the tree and switched sides of the tree and started firing at the three guys up on the hill. I felt like "GI Jane," especially when I heard one of the guys from the hill yell that he was hit. Way to go Mom! He walked out with a big yellow paintball splat on his face mask, right between the eyes.

Game On! Four guys against Mom. I was hanging in there until I ran out of paintballs. I yelled for the ref... "Can I get more ammo?" I was ready to take these guys out and win the game. One slight problem, you can't get more ammo. I had to forfeit the game, but 'Ol Mom' had them on the run.

What can I say? I had a great time and look forward to playing paintball again with my family. As long as my son keeps wanting to include his mom, I'll be there for him.

"I hesitated writing this article in light of the recent tragedy at Columbine High School. However, I feel that a parent who is active and interested in what their child is doing has a better understanding of what is happening in their child's life. Get involved and cherish the time you spend together."