Testing the Limits

My groomsmen took me paint balling for my bachelor party. Dana allowed it on the condition that it was at least a month before the wedding – she wanted me to have time to heal from the thousands of welts that were bound to incur.


One of the guys chose to wear old pants that he didn’t care if they got ruined. That means they were too tight, which proved troublesome when running away from the enemy, dodging stumps and jumping over fallen trees. It was at that point when the pants had had enough and tripped him up. I watched as he flung his upper body in the air while his legs stayed planted on the ground. I raced over screaming “Go for broke!” covering him while he tried to upright himself.

As he was brushing the dirt and leaves off his now ripped pants, something red kept showing up with each swipe. Upon further inspection, we found a huge gash under his thumb that was too gruesome to describe here.

“Benjamin’s Party!” I shouted to whomever could hear, “The game is over for us. We need to take this guy to the hospital.”

Being that my friend didn’t know anyone else present, it was my duty to drive him to the ER while the rest of the guys went back to the best man’s house to continue the party.

We sat in the ER for three hours. He was sewn up with fewer than 8 stitches. He asked the nurse about playing softball because he had a game the following day.

“As long as you wear a batting glove, the stitches should be fine.”

I called the guys to have them save us some food; we’re on our way back. Of course when we got there, the food was gone. Thanks guys.

The next day I got a call from my tall friend. He was calling me from the ER.

At the game, he had been playing center field while his brother played left. There was a pop fly right between them and they both went running. They are brothers, mind you, so the communication aspect of their relationship may not have been as developed as their competitiveness. They collided. His brother’s nose moved from the center of his face to just below his right eye, and needed reconstructive surgery two days later.

My accident-prone pal sustained gashes on his eyebrow, cheek and arm, a black eye and a spiral fracture on his left femur.

But thankfully, the stitches on his hand were just fine.

Image Credit: Big L’s Paintball

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