2008 Woodie Awards
Weekend warriors marking territory
John Thorburn
Issue date: 5/1/03 Section: Accent
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I extend the barrel of my gun around the corner of the wooden shelter only to see gobs of bright yellow and green whizzing by me. The north side of the field is blanketed with color as I fire back. Behind me, Kris Kammerer, an IAS senior at the University of Washington, Tacoma [UWT], guards my back as he unloads a dozen shots in the same direction.
"What do you got?" he yells in my direction.
"I see three of 'em," I reply. "Two behind the pile of wood and one hiding behind that tree. Do you see anything?"
"There's one at 10 o'clock and two or three others at 12," he responds emphatically as I begin to dial in the imaginary clock face across the playing field.
Excitement builds as color continues to sail past us. I wait for a break and then fire back, exploding a shot across the shoulder of an enemy player.
"One down," yells out my partner as he fires in the same direction.
The slippery dirt below me makes it difficult to remain in the same position for more than a few seconds. I shift my weight to gain better footing and feel a snap across my arm.
I'm dead.
"Are you hit?" asks Kris, looking back at me.
"Yep," I reply, raising my arms and gun as a notice of my elimination as I leave the hill.
Outside the field boundaries, I notice a young man laughing at an exiting player behind me.
"Hey dad, did you get shot in the head?" asks the laughing teenager.
"Yeah, Mark got me," replies his father.
"Good times," says the son, wiping away the remnants of a shot to the leg.
This is paintball at KC Crusaders in South Prairie, WA.
Back at the staging area of the course, players are readying themselves for the next round. Paintball is a recreational sport but don't expect the game's players to take it lightly.
Littered among picnic tables and ice coolers, men and women in camouflage are restless in anticipation of an upcoming battle.
Fathers and sons gear up, loading each other's magazines with extra ammunition. A young woman adjusts her ponytail to fit inside the black protective helmet that will cover her face. Her bright smile is soon replaced by an expressionless mask. The cold, black metal of the gun barrels is checked and rechecked. Boots are retied. Everyone is getting ready for a war.
"Blue team line up against the wall," a man in an orange vest barks out like a drill sergeant. "Yellow let's go on my other side."
Teams begin assembling on both sides as directed by the man. He grins at a young boy clad in black, revealing a smile of blackened teeth and charred gums.
Kris sizes up the competition while adjusting the sandy colored camoflauge overcoat his mother sewed for him years ago. He calls it his "Jedi robe" because when he asked for it as a birthday gift, the closest pattern they could find that matched what he wanted was a Star Wars costume found at a fabric store in Tacoma.
Mixing science fiction into his daily activities is something Kris does regularly.
On the shelves in the living room of his home in northwest Tacoma are action figures and collectibles from the Voltron cartoon series. In his home office, models of Star Wars ships adorn the walls. He is a self-proclaimed "sci-fi geek."
On the paintball field, Kris moves as methodical as the bounty hunter Boba Fett in George Lucas' films. When other players sprint towards the action at the start of a game while diving for cover from oncoming shots, he walks upright calculating the position of the enemy ahead.
"I like hunting humans and having them fire back," says Kris with a grin. "It's essentially a grown-up version of cowboys and Indians."
Kris' brother, Jimmy, a junior at Washington State University in Pullman, was the first in the Kammerer family to start playing.
"I had a friend in Texas that came up to me one day and asked if I wanted to shoot people," says Jimmy. "I had no idea what he meant so I said, 'No.' The next thing I knew, he took me out into the desert and shot me."
Since then, Jimmy and Kris have spent dozens of weekends shooting strangers, and each other.
"Kris isn't as sneaky as I am," says Jimmy, "but he does have that big overcoat and the balls usually tend to bounce off of that. He's a better shot than me though.
"I just like to pull the trigger," adds Jimmy. "Most of the time, I don't hit anything. I guess I figure if I shoot enough then I will eventually hit something."
Shooting until you hit something isn't a philosophy reserved only for Jimmy. The logo at KC Crusaders reads: "Accuracy by volume."
Paintball's roots don't date back to the gun slinging Wild West, but its original purpose doesn't stray far from the ranch either.
James Hale of Daisy Manufacturing invented and patented what would become the first paintball gun in 1970. This original paintgun was manufactured and used for marking trees and cattle. It was not until 1981 that paintball took on its modern form when players competed against each other with Nel-spot 007 pistols. These pistols were originally used by the forestry service for marking trees for excavation.
Today, there are three common types of guns used by players.
The most common and cheapest is the Spyder. A higher quality marker often used is an Impulse. The top-of-the-line is simply known as an Angel. This weapon costs $800-$2000.
One of the biggest misconceptions is that paintballs are made of paint.
Paintballs are gelatin capsules containing a water soluble, biodegradable, non-toxic mixture of vegetable oil, food coloring and soap detergent. They are encapsulated by the same machines that make bath oil beads and vitamins.
At most paintball fields, the types of games that are played are either "capture the flag" or "last team standing." Facilities often host themed events throughout the year, however.
On March 23, players at KC Crusaders will participate in a Blue-Gray game. This contest is a Civil War reenactment where each team has one general and three lieutenants. The object of this game isn't to shoot the officers, but rather capture them and take them to your team's base. In August, the complex will host its annual 24-hour game. Players bring tents and campers to South Prairie playing all throughout the night. Those players who can last the full 24 hours earn the right to wear the KC Crusaders 24-Hour Game t-shirt.
Chris, a Pierce County resident, is itching to play in the 24-hour game.
"I can't wait to come back in August and play," says the 20-year old looking at his rental gun. "Hopefully by then I can afford a three-round burst gun to play with."
In this game, the winner and loser is usually determined not by skill, but by the amount of ammunition they can afford. Paintballs are expensive.
At KC Crusaders, a case containing 2000 rounds costs $85. For a beginner, 2000 shots easily lasts one or two trips to the field. For a tournament player, however, a case would be emptied in a few hours.
A tournament player is known as someone who plays regularly, usually with the same group of players, and travels the area to various tournaments competing for cash prizes.
On the field, tournament players are easily noticeable by their equipment. They usually tote automatic guns or "markers," and an ample supply of paintballs. Beginners usually lose to tournament players because their guns are single-shot and only carry a few dozen paintballs.
"I have a nasty habit of dominating the younger crowd while the tournament players tend to kick my ass," says Kris. "For the most part my accuracy is almost as good as the tournament players', except I cannot afford to spend the amount of money those guys do on paint."
Kris plays with an Impulse-a semi-automatic gun with an automatic loader. It's one of the better markers available but not his weapon of choice.
Last year, his house was broken into and $800 worth of paintball equipment was stolen including three guns and personal upgrades to his Spyder gun. His Impulse is the first marker he has purchased since the theft. According to Kris, he has spent $3000-$4000 on paintball gear since he began playing while living in Texas in 1999.
Spending thousands of dollars on gear isn't common but is almost expected of tournament players. They separate themselves from the rest of the group-sitting at their own tables and talking their own language.
"Just wait until I bunker one of those fuckers and then they'll start crying," says Shawn, a bleach blond regular at the facility. He is frustrated after being eliminated from the game by a beginner.
"Bunkering" a player is firing upon them at close range without giving them the opportunity to surrender. A shot at close range leaves a welt for days and is forbidden at KC Crusaders fields.
"I like to pretend that I'm a rookie when I play against tournament players," says Jimmy with a grin. "That way they think I am weak and I'll end up shooting them. They get really pissed off when they get shot by a new guy."
The Kammerer brothers have fun despite the inflated egos of the tournament players. Entertainment isn't the only reason they choose to play, however.
"There's lots of reasons-from releasing pent-up aggression to exercise," says Kris. "The game requires intelligence and determination, but doesn't really require strength, speed or agility... but they help."
Jimmy loves the strategy of the game but ultimately plays for the thrills.
"There's definitely a fear factor involved," says Jimmy. "You know getting hit is going to hurt, but you don't know when it's going to happen."
Intelligence on the battlefield is a skill Kris can attribute to his childhood. Born in Lansthul, Germany while his father was stationed there as a lieutenant colonel and chief of logistics at the army's medical center, Kris also spent one and a half years in ROTC at the University of Texas at El Paso.
When the Kammerer family moved to Washington in 2000, Kris began playing at the Ft. Lewis army base. He was forced to find another location when his military identification expired, however.
"After September 11, [the Army] really tightened up security on base," says Kris. "Now that I don't have my ID anymore, I have to sit and fill out paperwork for a guest pass to be on the base for a day. It's too big of a hassle now."
Finding alternative places to play paintball in western Washington isn't difficult.
More than a dozen fields are open to walk-on players and often host tournaments throughout the year.
"KC Crusaders is pretty much the place to go, at least in this area," says Kris. "I've been to a few other places but the players aren't as nice or the fields aren't as cool."
When not playing or attending night classes at UWT, Kris is employed as a designer for Techfast Metal Systems in Tacoma. High-tech jobs seem to be common among players.
On the Seattle campus of the University of Washington, seven full-time students help run the Husky Paintball Club which holds five public games each quarter near the town of Sultan, WA. The educational majors of some of these students include computer science, aeronautical engineering and electrical engineering.
Still, paintball attracts more than just the technically astute and "sci-fi geeks." It beckons the weekend warriors of every type.
Later in the day, I move along the riverbank hoping not to be spotted by the enemy blue team. Two opposing players sit behind the protection of a rusted, old Chevy pickup. They are too busy targeting my teammates on the hill to notice me move in 20 yards to their left.
I let loose a shot through the brush. Color explodes across the black goggles of the player.
Gotcha.