---

About twenty years ago, my two sons thought it would be great sport if we all got paintball guns and ran around the woods having wars. They were able to convince a few friends and a couple adults, including their father, to play war games with them. I must admit, we had a lot of fun. The sport entails large amounts of fresh air and exercise, along with a few bruises and sprains.

Advance the timeline about twenty years. We now have a grandson that thought playing paintball would be endless amounts of fun. He was able to convince a couple friends, their dad, and his dad that it would be great entertainment. Since I already had the full set up from years gone by, I should also join in the war. Why not, I thought. It was fun then, it will be fun now. As I was getting my equipment out of storage and cleaning it up, thoughts of past victories flashed through my mind. The part about the past victories being more than a few years ago never occurred to me. All we had to do was wait for a day that was warm enough to go play.

By the middle of last week, the weather forecast for Sunday looked promising. The temperature was supposed to be in the fifties with sunny skies. Zane set the wheels in motion with a call, "Hey Grandpa, we are playing paintball Sunday afternoon. Zane's friend, Noah, his brother, Nathan, their dad, Cory, were coming to try their hand at paintball with Zane, Damon, and I.

Kids being kids, they thought they were pretty tough. The two ten year olds and a twelve year old were pretty sure they could take out three adults, two of which had experience at paintball wars. We decided we would take it easy on the little kids, up to the point Zane shot all three of us the first game. The second game had a better outcome. The adults were more cautious, and the overconfident kids, who by now thought they were indestructible, were a little careless. The adults won that round with one man standing. The championship of the world rested on game three.

We adults spread out at the top of the hill, making our way from tree to tree in search of the hunkered down kids. Damon started taking fire from Nathan, who was the point man on the other side. Cory backed Damon and Nathan was in deep trouble. Nathan's team mates were too far away to offer any real help, and their cover shots only gave away their position. I ran up hill and circled around Noah and Zane, who were behind a log, backed by rose bushes. While Damon kept their attention, I dropped them both from behind. The adults won, 2 to 1. After that, we split up teams and chased each other around the better part of forty acres until some of us were ready to drop. By the last game, Damon's gun malfunctioned, so he had to go to the house for repairs. Cory's mask steamed up to the point he could not see where he was going and had to stop. For some reason, my legs hurt to the point I was not sure I could walk out of the woods. At least the adults won the wars that counted because none of us could do it again. The kids were still game when we had to stop.

Warm winter days happen only occasionally. The time between now and the next warm winter weekend might give me time to get into shape if I am going to continue to be a paintball warrior.[[In-content Ad]]

---