Fat Men Can Run

I am sure you have all read Mr Shaws recollections of our day out at Rednal by now. So now it falls to me to try and live up to his poetic writings with my own account.

I arose at 8am with a headache from hell, thank you Mr Stella. I prepared myself as best I could through hazy eyes and then the phone rang, it was Mr Smith. This was the phone call I had been dreading. The hour was close at hand.

As I stood on the road I saw my chariot arrive. A gleaming white beast appeared over the crest of the hill bathed in a heavenly white light. There sat proudly behind the wheel was Mr Smith.

I have seen Mr Smith every day for the past four and a half years, but never have I seen this man look so proud. I entered the minibus with a heavy heart fearing this could be the last time I ever stepped foot in Wrexham again.

I glanced over to Mr Smith and saw such a steely determination in his eyes that I knew this man was ready to sacrifice everything for the cause. My heart swelled with pride, my chest expanded and I knew this was it.

As the minibus pulled away, my thoughts turned to family and friends. When was the last time I told them I loved them and how much they mean to me? But I had to stay focused.

We arrived at Gwersyllt where we were going to pick up Mr Higgins and Mr Jones. I looked into the distance and saw a lone figure waiting.

We pulled up alongside Mr Higgins and I knew we had we had already had one deserter. Mr Jones had gone AWOL. The mood in the minibus was somber. But I rallied the troops and decided not to waste anymore time on this deserter.

As we pulled up outside our rendezvous point my heart sank again. Where was everyone? I did a quick headcount, six people, six fuckin people. What the fuck had happened?

I saw the look of disappointment on Mr Shaws face. How were we going to get over this shocking turn of events?

The Polish contingent among us had the answer, cheap Whiskey and Vodka.

Suffice to say Mr Shaw has already covered this part of our journey and I stand by his words.

When we finally arrived at Rednal we were met by John who would be our mentor and referee during the day.

I got kitted out and looked at my comrades/enemies. The one thing that struck me was the teams. It was basically ex soldiers versus fat, old and unfit men.

I could already tell by the look in our Polish friends eyes, they could smell victory. Their laughter filled me with fear as they cradled their guns in their arms as if they were extensions of their bodies. One thought struck me at that point. We would have to play dirty and mean.

Later on we found out it was them that played dirty, shame on you I say, shame on you.

It was then John told us it was time. War was at hand and it was now or never. I don’t mind telling you all this, but as I entered the arena, my hands were shaking, my heart was pounding and the adrenalin was flowing through my body quicker than Guinness on one of The Associations days out.

I will now tell you about my personnel highlights of the day.

Speedball aka the day I nearly died of a heart attack/exhaustion/:

John explained the game as simply as this. There is a ball in the middle, you must grab it and run back to your own base to score points. I didn’t know it at the time but this so called simple game would be the end of me.

Both teams went to their starting points and the countdown began.

10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ran to the first bit of cover I could find. I was soon joined by two others, shots rang out all over the place. I looked out through one of the peep holes in the cover. Paintballs were exploding all around us and our cover was being used as an artist’s canvas.

To my right a few meters away was another cover point. I needed to get there as quickly as possible. We were pinned down but it was time. I readied myself and went for it. The ground beneath me shook as I took my first few strides into the open.

I slid into position behind another piece of cover. I had made it. I could now see the ball. It was directly in front of me.

This was it I took a few deep breaths and was just about to go when I heard "Out", "I am out" and "Same here" and “the bastards got me”. I turned around and saw my teammates being wiped out left, right and centre.

This was desperate.

My mind was awash with thoughts.

Was I the only one left? How the hell would I ever survive this game? Could my legs carry me to victory? Would John take a bung?

I had to wipe these negative thoughts from my mind. My team needed me and I would not be found wanting.

I gritted my teeth, got myself up and focused on the ball.

The next 10 seconds are pretty much a blur.

I knew it was now or never.

I steadied myself and went for it.

I exploded out of the cover like a man possessed.

I grabbed the ball, turned tail and ran towards our starting point.

Then it happened, I entered the “zone”. The world around me seemed to melt away and nothing else mattered apart from victory.


Paintballs whizzed passed my head in slow motion.

My feet felt like led, every step I took just added to the pain.

My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest, but we needed the points, more importantly my team needed me.

I pointed my gun over my shoulder and just let rip. The sound of compressed air ringing in my ear as every stride took me towards my goal.

I began chanting a mantra in my mind “The little train that could, the little train that could, the little train that could”.

Then I saw it. My goal was metres away. It was within touching distance, just a few metres more.

Then it happened, sweet victory. My foot touched home. If I was a fitter man I would have done a victory dance but I just collapsed in a heap. The joy of victory was far overtaken by the agony I was feeling. Every part of my body was crying out in pain. I couldn't breathe let alone dance.

My teammates ran over but their cries of victory were nothing but a blur to me as I tried to suck in the entire oxygen content of the world. I knew I had reached my limit and more.

Little did I know at the time but as I was running back to the base, I was shooting nothing but compressed air. My ammo had run out.


Capture The Bomb:

John explained the game like this: There is a bomb in the base. You must get in the base and press a button to disarm it.

10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I shuffled off to the right. I knew I had to find somewhere to hide as my legs would not allow me to run any great distance. Unbeknown to me I had already been spotted.

My camping spot would be the rocket compound and god help anyone who came near me.

It was with tired legs and aching muscles that I entered the rocket compound. Just as I got there I spied my first target. Mr Smith. He had already taken up a sniping position. I took several deep breaths, steadied myself and let rip, bang, bang, bang three direct hits followed by "For fucks sake, you got me you bastard fuckin stop".

I knew my position was compromised at that point, so I decided to hide at the back of the compound.

I ran/hobbled as fast as my legs would allow it and hid. I was gasping for air and just wanted to rip my facemask off when I heard a thundering on the walkway above me.

Someone had spotted me and had taken the high ground into the compound. Who was this sneaky bastard? Had he seen me? Is it one of our Polish members?

I poked my head out and there he was. I let rip. The paintballs rained down on my enemy. Victory was within my grasp.

Then as if in slow motion the muzzle of my enemies’ gun appeared over the walkway and it was as if the Devil himself had unleashed hellfire on my ass. It was like the cheesiest 80's action movie you have ever seen.

I lept for cover while shooting. The sound of guns and exploding paintballs ringing all around me. In my panic I just let loose again. I was hitting nothing but air. I could not see my enemy and vice versa.

We had reached an impasse, it was now or never. I silently said a prayer and went for it. In what seemed like slow motion I dived out from under the walkway.

As I hit ground I started firing, my enemy had the same idea. I don’t know how many shots we fired between us but the second I got hit I knew about it.

My thigh exploded with the pain, one hit, two hits, fuckin three hits. My natural instinct for survival kicked in. I kept firing.

"I am out, stop fuckin shooting" I screamed.

There was a pause.

"I am out" Screamed my enemy.


As I writhed in pain on the floor I recognized that voice,

"Who the fuck is down there?"

"Its Steve, is that you Carl?" I whimpered

"Yeah, you bastard" came the reply

"I am in agony you twat, three fuckin times you shot in the same place you bastard".

I crawled out of my hiding place in agony. My thigh was on fire.

It was a lonely walk back and to make matters worse all I could hear was the screams of my teammates.

Free For All:

As the name suggests the rule are quite simple. Its kill or be killed.

This game was set up so anyone who had paintballs left could just go ape shit and not care about being hit.

There were only six of us left at this point who had any paintballs left and thanks to Mr Higgins, Mr Shaw entered the fray.

As we entered the arena John was left to explain the rules.

It was simple he gathered us all into the center of the grounds and just started counting down:

10
9
8
7
6
GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What the fuck?

I knew what was going to happen but it still caught my tired and withered body by surprise. I no longer had the use of my legs. Everyone else just ran. I just kind of hobbled.

I fired a few shots off and headed for the embassy. I knew I just had to sit and wait for my enemies to come to me.

I ran/crawled upstairs and to my surprise, I found myself alone.

"This is fuckin brilliant" I thought to myself.

I could hear screams and shots from outside, but this was of no importance to me. I just needed to breathe and regain my composure.

Then silence.

I ducked into a room on the second floor and glanced out,

NOTHING.


Where the hell was everybody?

I ran into an adjacent room and peered out of a window.

Still nothing.

My mind was racing with questions. Was I the only one left? What about those those annoying kids? Had Shaw, Hughes and Roberts gone into hiding? What if they were all ganging up on me? How many paintballs did I have left?

Paranoia had set in.

What the hell was going on?

I moved to another room, slammed into the wall and caught my breath. What do I do now, I thought?

Then I heard it.

That sweet sound of paintballs being fired. I raced to the window.

"I am out" it was Mr Roberts.

As I peered out of the window I saw a Mr Hughes attempting to cross a bridge.
I took a deep breath,

"Die you bastard" I screamed as I let rip with a volley of paintballs.

Everyone was a hit.

I never knew Carl could dance like that.

As he ducked for cover I let out a maniacal laugh.

I surveyed the carnage before me,

BANG

BANG

two shots straight to my facemask. I was blinded. I retaliated with several shots the majority of which hit the walls and the ceiling.

I found myself lying in a puddle of water. I wet my glove and wiped my mask with it, big mistake, paint and mud is not a good mix. Now I was really blind.

I panicked and just ran into another room. I knew I had been spotted. My only recourse now was to sit and wait. I kept trying to clean my mask but every time I did it just got worse. My breathing became more and more rapid. I tried to take shallow breaths but my lungs cried out for more.

If I couldn’t breathe properly at least I should be allowed to see my enemy .Then I remembered Mr Shaw had given me some wet tissue I fumbled around in my pocket for it and then I heard it.

A splash.
What the fuck was that?

My breathing was labored by now. Did I really hear that? Was it just me?

I stood up and raised my gun.

The paintballs sounded like cannon balls as they fell into into my hopper.

Did he hear that I wondered? Can he hear my breathing?

I had to snap out of this.

I steadied myself for the coming onslaught.

BANG

BANG

BANG

My ears rang out,

He was close,

Definitely on the same floor,

He was clearing every room systematically,

I braced myself against the entrance wall,

There was only the room I was in and another adjacent room left,

That’s when I saw it, the big puddle of water in front of me started to ripple,

I was being stalked.

"It’s now or never" I thought,

I sprang out of the doorway and there dead in my sights was Mr Hughes,

"Fuckin have it you bastard" I screamed as I unloaded,

"Have it back you fat bastard" he screamed.

I have been in many corridors in my life. But none were as painful as this one.
I had nowhere to go, Mr Hughes had me backed into a corner but luckily for me Mr Hughes was in the same position.

We both stood our ground as the paintballs flew passed our heads and impacted on our now ragged bodies. I kept shooting. How was this man still standing? But then a critical shot, straight into my thigh again. I screamed like a baby but then another
shot and another.

Then I heard Mr Hughes scream in pain.

"Enough"

"Ave it you bastard" I thought.

But secretly I was thinking "Thank fuck for that"

We looked at each other and laughed. I should point out at this point that Mr Hughes laughed, I just cried out in relief.

As far as I was concerned the day was over. I could finally lay down my gun and
retreat to the pub.

Unfortunately for me I was stuck in an empty building with Mr Hughes who still had the boundless energy of a teenager.

I was about to walk off when Mr Hughes said,

"How many paintballs have you got left?"

I was very suspicious about this question so replied

"Fuckin loads mate. Why?"

And with that Mr Hughes Dived into a room and screamed

"Those fuckin kids are hiding in that bus. Let’s shoot the shit out of them".

And with those words ringing in my ears I joined him in that room.

Carl took position on the left hand side of the window and I took the right.

As I gathered my breath I glanced across at Mr Hughes and an unspoken bond was made.
We were now my brothers in arms.

As I looked across at Mr Hughes he let forth a cry that would scare hyenas, we both lept out of our positions and laid waste to our foes.
And I quote:

“If it bleeds we can kill it”

"We got the little bastards".

"Fuckin have it you little shits".

"I got the twat right in the head".

“Did you fuckin see that. Right in the facemask ha ha ha ha”

and the often quoted,

"Nobody fucks with the Association"

There is nothing I can add to this post that hasn’t already been said. Apart from
this:

To all of you that turned up I salute you. This day will go down in history.

To those pussy boys who were too scared:

Hollis

Greg

Scott

And

Jez

You missed one hell of a fight.