
Am I nervous? Absolutely. Unlike the Poker Classic which had me pitted against various depths of mind strength and the ability to just walk away the loser, paintball actually involves physical pain and athletic skill that could leave me with scars lasting much longer than those emotionally. It's like human hunting but with splats of neon to make it cartoon-like, something we all long for when we attempt to do something so seemingly inappropriate. Am I ready? Absolutely. I've been a veteran of first person shooter video games for the better part of my life, and take pride in building kill streaks that propel me to prestige as soon as possible. The adrenaline rush I feel when I play Call of Duty should be minor compared to the almost real-life services I will be providing to my employer come tomorrow afternoon. With my platoon of two, possibly three InGamers, I will lead the charge like Kevin Durant and roll like Thunder to my first on-field victory. I will go in as the decoy, the mole, I'll stand in the front lines of battle, anything to make the InGamer name heard loud and clear.
I'll take one for the team, maybe two or possibly six depending on how strong our brigade is. I'll be the coach, the captain and the substitute, but I will not be the first man down, er, woman down. I won't be the nurse either. Just because I'm a lady it doesn't mean I'll be limited to the recovery efforts of the injured or the replenishing of other men's ammo. It will be messy, dangerous and compromising to the relationships I've built with the people in this building, the beautiful Lang Tannery here in Kitchener, but in all sports, especially ones with (paint) loaded guns, it's survival of the fittest and I've got my war paint on.
xoxo,
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