I ran for my life. It wasn’t fast enough. A paintball came whipping through the clearing as I crossed in a running crouch, shot by the enemy team from 20 yards away. I felt it explode against my thigh. It stung for a few seconds, like someone had whacked me hard with a switch. When I looked down, the bright blue splatter was undeniable. After two minutes, I was out.

I spent the remaining eight minutes of that game safely outside the field, peering in at the action through a wall of thick mesh. By midday on Sunday, Xtreme Paintball in Agawam had drawn a crowd of about 40 people, divided into two teams. As they shot, ducked, stumbled, and ran through the forested course — between trees and behind wooden barriers — the dull crackle of gunfire filled the air. The field sounded like the inside of a popcorn machine.

Until today, I hadn’t mustered the courage to try paintball. I love a good game of capture the flag, but this is equally akin to a first-person shooter video game, which isn’t exactly my forte. I’m someone who gets freaked out by a fast serve in ping-pong.

Here, the incoming shots are .68 caliber gelatin capsules filled with water-soluble dye. Which is why paintball fields stress safety to the max. Helmets and masks must stay on. Rubber barrel sheaths are required off the field at all times. I also rented a padded vest, which helped me to sweat off some of those Fourth of July cookout calories from the day before.



Equipment aside, it’s a pretty casual sport. Sure, a few players come armed to the teeth, with huge compressed air canisters strapped to their backs and enough ammo to paint a barn. But most, like me, show up for an hour or two, rent their gear upon arrival, and shrug off the hardcore war tactics.

This ain’t boot camp. When you play paintball, you’re among people who munch on pizza between games and hydrate with Mountain Dew. Can you make paintball into a workout? Sure — just run, run, run. But you need hardly be an athlete to get shot at.

After that first ill-fated attempt, I told myself that I was just getting my bearings. The objective of that round seemed to be “shoot everybody,” but round two was a one-sided version of capture the flag. I played offense, and I lasted five minutes before taking a bright pink one in the goggles. Progress!

In round three, I tried a sprint-and-spray maneuver I saw in First Blood . It worked way better for Rambo.

We all stopped for lunch. I un-velcroed my vest and sat in the steamy half-shade of the picnic area, breathing hard. “I almost hit someone, but then they almost hit me!” yelled a nearby middle-schooler to his friends, gesturing with a can of Monster energy drink. You said it, kid.

“I was lying there, and these two guys just come walking out right in front of me!” said a shaggy-haired 20-something to his buddy. “I rolled over, and: boom, boom! You kinda feel bad, you know? But then you don’t.”

One player inspected his pants. “Did they get me in the ass?” he asked his friend. “I couldn’t tell, because of the adrenaline.” She inspected him, then frowned. “There’s nothing there. What’s wrong with you?”

We resumed play. In round four I got shot in the knee. Was it too much to ask to take one in the chest and go down like a hero?

Life is short, so I made it happen. During round five I threw caution to the wind and went charging through the woods, taking potshots as best I could. I slid in next to a guy wearing a big frown and a bandana — clearly a seasoned vet.

I paid for my brash moves. Pop, pop, pop, right up my arm: three beautifully placed shots by an enemy sniper. Maybe making it through a whole 10-minute match was too much to ask for. But at least I spent my final minutes acting like the jungle madman we all wanted to be. Stallone would have been proud.

The fields at Xtreme Paintball in Agawam are open for walk-on games Saturdays and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., or during the week by reservation. The all-day beginner package, which includes equipment rental and ammo, costs $40. More info at www.xtremepbma.com.•

Contact Hunter Styles at hstyles@valleyadvocate.com