Cover story: A merry band of paintball warriors shoots to thrill at Ralph Wilson Stadium
Professional paintball splashes down at The Ralph
After putting on my gear and filling up my tank with ammunition, reality hits: I’m about to be up to my elbows in trouble.
It’s a hot and humid Friday at Ralph Wilson Stadium. I stare at my opponent from across the field, where bunkers covered with paint are my only protection. As the referee squeegees the exploded remains of the previous match’s ammunition off the inflatable, yellow obstacles, my heart starts to race and there goes the adrenaline.
It’s my gun versus his quickness, my strategy against my opponent’s cleverness.
A typical paintball match lasts a maximum of seven minutes, with the clock stopping as soon as the opposing flag is captured. I lasted a solid but unimpressive two minutes. The fourth bunker welcomed me with a vicious thump of yellow paint right in the kisser. In the total of 120 seconds that my initiation into the paintball world lasted, I gave one of the bunkers a vicious beating, and my adversary gave me a new appreciation for the sport. When the National Professional Paintball League comes to Buffalo, it is every man for himself, and all for one and one for all, simultaneously.
For the past 10 years, the NPPL has traveled all over the United States, bringing paintball to the masses. One of the league’s Super 7 World Series events, going on through Sunday, carries a top prize of $80,000. The president of the NPPL, Shawn Walker, looks more like someone on the event staff than the head of a booming league that is quickly taking the lead position in the extreme sports world. The 30-year-old Californian is more amped about the tournament than many of the hundreds of players walking around parking lot No. 6 at The Ralph.
“So far so good,” he said. “It’s super competitive, but in Buffalo, everyone’s kind of laid back and goes with the flow. I go to so many stadiums where everyone’s like, ‘You’ve got to do this, and do that, and sign paperwork,’ and the Buffalo Bills are like, ‘Yeah, that sounds cool,’ or like, ‘Yeah, have you seen that parking lot? No worries.’ ”
There are 120 teams, with seven players per team, plus coaches and spectators who are walking around in a frenzy. In the players’ quarters, where white tents are set up to give the players a place to go during downtime between games, team members and coaches are doing everything from taking naps to eating the provided fruit to recharge.
Buddy Baur — coach of and player for one of the league’s professional teams, the Rochester Rhythm — said while the tournaments are primed for fun, a majority of the players are driven to compete.
“When everyone comes here, they’re really focused and determined,“ Baur, 26, said. “Every single game counts in the NPPL. You play eight games, but all of those matter, and if you drop a game because you were off pulling pranks, your team’s not going to be too happy. . . . I’ve seen people cry if they’ve lost. Not necessarily in a preliminary game, but maybe in the finals. There’s a lot on the line.”
There is a sense of camaraderie in the air that is contagious. Players, coaches, vendors and NPPL employees all prance around like grade schoolers on field day. Baur said after years of traveling together, many of those in attendance have attained a close connection that creates the kinship.
“It’s the same old idiots,” he said. “We’re pretty much the same crew everywhere. There are some familiar faces and at every event there’s a players’ party. . . . At the end of it all, shooting each other up and putting welts on everybody, everyone’s friends.”
As the day wore on, one thing was undeniable: Paintball is an immediate adrenaline rush. The rapid-fire sounds of ammunition slapping the bunkers like raindrops against a window, and players yelling game strategy, cheers and celebrating victories across their playing grounds could send a chill up any spine.
The idea of the game is to get to the other end of the field and grab the opponent’s flag before being shot. What a simple concept, if only it were without the shrill sound of paintballs whizzing past at high speeds.
This weekend Shaun Springer has traded his paintball gun for an opportunity to make a career out of the sport. Like the other 40 vendors camping out in the Abbott Road parking lot, Springer is selling his homegrown product — Gangstar apparel — to paintball players and fans.
Springer, 23, described the rush of the sport.
“It’s like every time you walk on that field, you could stand behind the same bunker, and be breathing heavy, with sweat like nothing you’ve ever felt before,” he said. “Even the pain you feel from being hit by a paintball is nothing like you’ve ever felt. It’s a different life when you’re on that field.”
