|Rare and Old Come across a gun older than 1994? There is an evil cult always on the look out for these. Post your finds!|
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|02-19-2009, 09:29 AM||#21 (permalink)|
Pretty solid. Good crew of regulars, most have been there as long as the field.
Refs are ok to good. Sunday is the better day for the walkons, thats when most regulars come out.
You should come out for the pump event at paintball invasion on March 14.
It's indoor tournament ball, round robin style and open play. $30 paint and air $5 kick for the prize pack. PM me back if you are interested.
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|02-27-2009, 08:21 PM||#22 (permalink)|
Join Date: Aug 2007
man, if I had known Mark was going to be selling his Ghost - you would never have seen it on ebay!
Mark leaves out a few important details: It was the 'Wolves and the Ghost that taught the entire world of paintball what 'longball' really meant; we were known as a very scrappy, capable team that only bad luck kept out of the winner's circle: we very frequently would hear teams say (about us) "who are those guys?" before a tournament (as we strutted in in out custom, peacock-blue, fully embroidered team jackets); and then we'd hear 'never want to play those guys again' as we left the event.
Early on with our use of the Ghosts we were 'threatened' with stories of 'longball' from the west coast teams we'd be facing at a national. Well, we drew the Bushwackers as our first opponents on Saturday morning (15 man ball): I was in the middle, running back and forth between the flanks - hit the left where Mark, Aden and several others were itching to push forward (raining paint on an opponent that kept on backing up). I ran over to the left to get a report and heard 'we just took out a bunch of guys'. 'How many?' 'oh, at least three or four, maybe five or six...'
I called for the push and the next thing I hear is Mark screaming from the middle of the field "FEEDING FRENZY! FEEDING FRENZY!" - which was our code for inducing panic in the other team. I ran straight up the middle of the field with Chris (one of our defense guys) and literally had a couple of players scream in fear and turn tail and run.
Later on in the staging area we found out those guys were in a panic because they had no idea why or how they were getting eliminated - paint was seemingly coming out of nowhere.
Nope - targeted ranged fire from a group of guys who spent HOURS at the target range every weekend.
Later on we developed "AIR MAIL" - and let me tell you, the volume of an air mail could crumble any team on the planet. 125 guys cooking off 7+ rounds per second, on command, at any target - real or imagined.
Many years later the Werewolves would go on to be named one of the Top 50 Teams of All Time by PB2X magazine.
One last story before I go: We played a number of events at a field in PA where we won most of the time. For a number of reasons we were not popular there, but the team insisted on going to events.
So there we are, playing 15 man ball and we draw one of our arch nemesis - The Green Machine. (They'd hated us ever since we visited them at their home field and literally wiped to forest floor with them on their favorite home field: it never seemed to fail that we drew them at national events, and we never lost: unfortunately for them, it was usually a humiliating loss too).
We were so cocky about the GM that we didn't even bother to plan out the game - we were just gonna walk over them and take an easy win.
The GM though must have been making faces at themselves in the mirror for months. We hit the field and - instant ambush. I walked off the field, convinced that we had lost to them for the first time in years.
I walked to the boundary to watch what I though were the last few minutes of our loss and one of the refs walks up to me saying "Steve, what happened?" (because he knew full well it should have been an easy win for us).
Right as I was about to say something defeatist, I saw a couple of GM benchriders walk up to the boundary. They had huge grins on their faces and were hopping up and down with excitement and anticipation. They saw me and I decided I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. With complete bluster I said, very loudly, "Oh, no problem - they fell for our trap"
I watched the faces of the GM players fall: they knew they were losers and hearing my statement, I am sure they were convinced that my bluff was true.
Well, about 15 minutes later it WAS true.
George Lynch - Mark's brother, had hidden behind our flagstation (in a streambed) and whacked out three or four players as they tried to grab out flag.
Meanwhile, Mark - who'd gone to ground during the ambush and had let it wash right over him - was crawling the entire length of the field - right into Green Machine's station.
Green Machine finally eliminated George and were convinced that he was the last Wolf left on the field. They literally started dancing back down the field with the flag.
When they arrived at their flag station - there was Mark, with his Gray Ghost. He wiped out the last of the Green Machiners, picked up both flags and ran them home for the win.
THAT'S paintball - WEREWOLVES style!
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