Members of the media gathered for a friendly game of Paintball in early November. For many it was their first time out. Mike Moore is standing to the far right. (Mike Keats/Submitted)

When a handful of the fearless from St. John's newsrooms got together in early November to blow off some steam, you could cut the tension with a pellet packed full of paint.

We didn't meet a soccer pitch, a volleyball court or even a bar.

We went out to play paintball.

We met up at Frontline Action, near Cochrane Pond off of the Trans-Canada Highway, and the afternoon brought me back to my first time playing the game in what must have been the fall of 2000-2001.

There were 19 of us, and most had never played the sport before that day. Walking into the unknown, a little unprepared, is often scary enough in most aspects of life, let alone a game where you literally hunt your friend (or foe), and shoot them with paintballs in the range of 220 to 280 feet-per-second.

Paintball at its core is about building a community made up of misfits and weirdos. There's no room for outgunning an overmatched opponent because you can.

Paintball can feel intimidating … until you get your feet wet. Concerned faces quickly turn to beaming smiles. I've seen it countless times.

The media game in November was the idea of my colleague Terry Roberts, and grew to include the CBC, NTV, VOCM and Canadian Press. It didn't matter who was who once the line was drawn and teams were split into two opposing sides. (We mixed it up, too, rather than having one newsroom play another.)

Most paintball parks provide you with the gear you need to get started. My first few games in the early 2000s were with rented gear until I could afford to get my self situated. (Terry Roberts/CBC)

As the first shots from the markers (yes, we don't call them paintball guns — they're called markers, and that's a standard everywhere) rang out at the beginning of the first game, I could tell that these people were going to have a blast — no pun intended.

I was happy to take on a bit of a leadership role to help any newcomer to get a feel for the game. I played pretty reserved for much of the day, sitting in the back, calling out targets for my teammates to focus on so that they could feel the glory of their first splat.

By the way, nothing is worse than a hometown hero pretending to be Gretzky in any game that is trivial to 99 per cent of the public. A close friend and teammate once compared paintball to bowling, or miniature golf in that the public really doesn't care if you're good at it or not — to most, it's a once-a-year activity, if that.

Paintball at its core is about building a community made up of misfits and weirdos. There's no room for outgunning an overmatched opponent because you can.

In our eyes that's cowardly.

Not all Trolls are terrible

I picked up the sport pretty seriously in 2004 and have been playing weekly, somewhat competitively, since then. Currently I play with some of the best people I could have ever asked for as teammates with the Trolls Paintball Clan. Some of those guys have been playing since the 1980s and are still rolling with the best of them.

The Trolls have become a second family to me, life-long friendships formed through the love of a fairly obscure sport.

Here I am acting a fool during my regular Sunday routine over the past 15 years or so. (Kirk Stuckless/Submitted)

I began refereeing paintball games in 2010; maybe it was 2011. Either way, it helped me through university and I was there until landing my first media job in 2017. To say I've been around the game for a while is a bit of an understatement. Often enough I bring the game home with me through reading the latest industry news and gear reviews, and browsing online forums.

When I rolled into the parking lot for the media game, I got myself geared up in my weekly Sunday kit which included pants, kneepads, elbow pads and a jersey with my mask situated on top of my head like it were any other day at the field.

The intention wasn't to intimidate my peers. Still, I stuck out like a soar thumb. Since it's what I'm comfortable in, and the clothing is literally designed with paintball in mind, I wasn't about to change it now.

I digress.

Benefits? There are a bunch

Paintball is one of those sports that tricks you into exercising. It's also an incredible boost to mental health.

Running through the forest with a marker in your hands, climbing, crawling and ducking through tree limbs at full speed, all while trying to avoid incoming paintballs from a friend who is maniacally laughing on the other side, this should be in everyone's workout regime.

You're having fun, you're in the outdoors, and one word — exercise — is not really on your mind.

The game lifts anxiety and stress, encourages team building and social interaction and builds on hand-eye coordination and problem solving. It's also far less dangerous than what first impressions may conclude.

On top of that, anyone can play the game. Some get their start as early as eight years old. Many paintball parks across North America have been making large strides to make the game inclusive by allowing wheelchair access and adding wheelchair friendly fields to their businesses.

The only equipment you need is an industry certified mask and a marker set up, and most fields provide those as rentals. Hiking boots with high ankle support would be a good call, too.

That's it. It's that simple.

Our version of church

It's not just a game for people to play solider in the woods. There are very real professional leagues based out of the United States if that's your bag. In fact, paintball pro Greg Hastings made St. John's his second home away from Florida for a little while.

There was once a healthy and thriving competitive community locally, with tournaments being played out of the Glacier Arena in Mount Pearl and on Frontline's home turf on Duffett's Road. There were massive games with more than 100 people at Red Cliff in Logy Bay, and even larger crowds for Frontline's Battle For Stalingrad event — the unofficial opening of the new season for most of us, well before the snow melted.

But that was yesteryear, our very own golden age of the game.

Even if I'm not playing I generally find myself at the paintball field to shoot photos and hang around. To a few of us it's more than just a game. (Submitted by Mike Moore)

There are still a few of us left, who play each Sunday. We joke that it's our version of church.

The Trolls Clan is working hard to rebuild a once bustling local community. Friendships have been made with a small but determined crew playing out of Grand Falls-Windsor and Gander. We try to visit them when we can over the summer months and play on their home field built around the Red Cliff Rocks camp site. It's a pretty sweet deal that their municipal council supports their effort. I'm not so sure paintball would even be a blip on the radar in St. John's.

So, pick up a marker. Rent it if you have to. Get your friends, your family or your co-workers together and try something that may be a little outside your comfort zone.

This sport, this game — despite looking dangerous, dirty or downright weird — has too many upsides. We all deserve to benefit from them.

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