A couple of years ago Onehitwonder and I played at a little field near Covington, KY. At some point in one of the games I realized I was the last player on our team. There were two players on the other team, one in front, the other further back. The front player moved up on me and I popped out of the bunker, lined up the shot, and ripped. He ripped back. And nothing happened.
Instead of painting one another in a satisfying blaze of glory, there was nothing but a weird yellow fog in the air between us. It was absolutely amazing. Just like in the movies, time completely slowed down. I watched the balls lazily jump out of his barrel and mine, float to the mid-point between us, and then pop in the air against one another.
The deadbox was right next to us, and all the other players were just howling and laughing. Even the other player on his team stopped and watched it go down.
Eventually (i.e., a second or two later) we both painted each other, but it was absolutely the craziest thing I've ever seen. An occasional ball strike midair is uncommon enough. But this was basically a rope on a rope.
Had some other weird and lucky shots in the past, but nothing that even remotely touches this.