There really is nothing in the civilian life that can be compared to the primal fear that is aroused when the instructor asks who has been here before and your motley crew of first-timer friends sit on your sweaty palms while surrounded by grizzled 40-somethings, hands raised.
For those less informed, the game/sport of paintball consists of people running around arenas with guns that fire small balls of paint (DURR) at deceptively painful speeds. Your only protection - depending on where you play - is a visor and a grill for your mouth.
When playing paintball you can generally count on three things:
1. You will be scared.
2. You will be bruised.
3. You will enjoy it.
The adrenaline rush that comes with being let out onto the course and the instructor yelling that the match has begun is immeasurable. Where I played, you could shell out a few extra dollars if you wanted to upgrade from semi-automatic to automatic and when you heard the roar of that mechanical lion you stopped whatever you were even thinking about thinking about doing and hid wherever you could. People generally stop shooting when you've been eliminated - hit - but with the automatic they will not stop. Many, many bruises. I couldn't use my left leg properly for a few days as a consequence of an ill-timed rush.
Bolting from cover to cover, inventing creative new curses as you stumble across the uneven ground before sliding behind a slightly-too-small tombstone as paint spatters off the corner is absolutely intense and I recommend it to anyone who is vaguely interested by this review.
You will not be disappointed.