Monday, September 19, 2005

A Ball Dodged

My adrenaline is flowing. My heart is pounding in my chest. My mouth is achingly dry from breathing so hard. My legs are shaking with anticipation of the whistle blow. And I’m wearing yellow panties over my spandex pants. This can mean only one thing – DodgeBall Blast 2005!


DodgeBall Blast 2005 is the first annual Dodgeball tournament held in Brandon, MB on Sept 16-18. Sixty-nine teams from Manitoba and Saskatchewan played, including my team of 7 players and one coach from Winnipeg, “The Superfriends of JC Brown.” This name was coined from a couple of garage-sale paintings that depict a Black Jesus, in the house of 5 of the members. Now, the reason I should have gotten a veto is that we got a black Jesus, complete with thorns, silk-screened on the front of our shirts. Perhaps if we were a church group, or if members of the team even cared about Jesus, it would be ok. Anyway, the rest of our uniform managed to be bright enough that nobody even made a remark about the shirts. And people thought JC Brown was a good friend of ours who couldn’t make it to the tournament. So, enough about that.

Back to the story. The eight of us packed up and took the 2-hour drive to Brandon after work on Friday and checked in to the hotel that was directly connected to the Centre where the matches would be taking place. Unfortunately, not all of the team would be able to spend the weekend there. After several drinks, most of the team went to bed that evening. Two players, however, decided it would be a better idea to go swimming in the hotel pool, which had closed 3 hours earlier at 11pm. I got a phone call from these same guys just after 4 telling me they had been apprehended by hotel security but had escaped, and were now outside several blocks away. One of them had no shoes and was wearing only a garbage bag for a shirt after the security guard had pulled his shirt off as he tried to escape. So I got up and walked a few blocks away to bring them clothes and shoes. They went back into the hotel soon after I returned. Just before 6am, though, there came a loud knocking at the door. I woke up and opened to door to see 4 Brandon Police Officers staring me down. I even happened to know one. That didn’t help a lot, though, as the 2 guys were hauled off in ‘cuffs. Luckily they were released about an hour later and stayed in a hotel across the street for the remainder of the weekend. (Looks like they probably won’t be charged.)

Despite the situation that night, we still showed up to play our first-ever real game of dodgeball on Saturday morning. We quickly dispatched with “El Big Cajones” in two straight games in a matter of minutes. Coming back later in the day, we may have been a little over-confident as “One Nuts” quickly won the first game of our best-of-three series. We recovered and managed to take the second game, but they poured on the pressure and took the last game, putting us out of contention for the “A Pool” and knocking us down to “B.” We were a beaten and rejected team that night, but hoped for redemption later in the night in the first game of the elimination round. It was somewhat disappointing, then, to learn several hours later that our opponents called in to forfeit, likely because they got in the popular hotel bar and didn’t want to leave. So we would wait until Sunday for our next game. We also learned at this time that we had won the best uniform prize, for a smooth $250. “8 Chix and 2 Dix” took the prize for best team name.



Not having learned from the previous night’s escapades, the team again found itself in drinking establishments Saturday night, and some drama ensued, but nobody ended up in handcuffs so I guess it could be considered a success.

Sunday morning, we showed up to play. This time is was important, since we were playing a good team this morning. “The Snake Eaters” from Shilo, MB, were highly interested in taking down their colleagues from Winnipeg. We were on our game, though, and took them out of the game and the tournament in two close games. This set up our quarter-final against “The Pylons.” We may have been fooled by the fact that this team had girls, because we got our butts handed to us in the first game of the series. We came back to win game 2 without much problem. Into game three, and after several minutes of close play it came down to a one-on-one showdown with Rob “Big E” Evers making the hit for the Superfriends. We then took out "The Oddballs," propelling us into the “B Pool” Championship.



With the fans in the bleachers, three TV cameras set up, two play-by-play announcers mic’d up, and theme songs playing, the “White Trash Elite” and… some other team, took the floor for the “C Pool” Championship for a chance to win back the $160 entry fee. As you may guess based on the fact that I don’t even remember the other team’s name, “White Trash Elite” took it in quick fashion. This was just a warm-up for the “B Pool” Championship, featuring the “Double Decker Marlins” and the “Superfriends of JC Brown” in what may have been the most exciting match of the tournament. Two teams of grown men, both playing for their pride, honour, the title of Champion…. and the $1000 prize. The format was changed to a best-of-five series for the finals. We walked out of the tunnel to “Danger Zone” and wooed the crowd with our flashy uniforms and dashing good looks before hitting the court. We were caught early by The Marlins’ solid strategy and good skill in catching, which knocked our players out and brought theirs back into the game. They took game 1, which also featured Yours Truly taking a bit of a tumble trying to avoid a ball, sending me up in the air before landing me flat on my back, slippery banana-style. It was clearly impressive, because the crowd went “Ohhhhhh!” and the announcer did the same before commenting on it. In game 2 we kept the throws down low, out of catching range, and worked on breaking down their systematic strategy. We managed to win the game, tying up the series. We again got sloppy in game 3 and the Marlins made us pay, winning with several players remaining for their team. It was now “do or die” for the Superfriends, and we kicked it up a notch winning a long and close battle in game 4 to force a final game for the Title.


This game was a long one. I went off early after being hit in the foot on a good double-toss by two of the Marlins, but after a catch by Cosmo Longo of the Superfriends (yes, that’s his real name), I was back on the court. We battled hard, and the number of players on the court was whittled away slowly but surely. It came down to two-on-two before my teammate was taken out in an attempt to make a catch. I ran forward and took out the assailant, bringing it down to a one-on-one for the victory. Our coach called a time-out to slow it down for thirty seconds. I needed a quick break. Unfortunately we had no waterboy, because the combination of high adrenaline, sweating and heavy breathing had left me a very hurting unit indeed. It was legal to make a substitution during time-out, but I told the coach I was good to go, so it was back to the court to wait for the final whistle of the game.

And…. the whistle blows. I have 3 balls on my side, and he has three. I place one at the back so I could retreat if necessary, and carried the other two forward as he, too, approaches the centerline. I put one down near the halfway mark in case I will need it. He goes for the kill but starts to lose his grip and holds up. I make my throw. It is hard and low, but not directly on target. He moves too quickly and avoids it. Now I am naked, no ball for deflections. He is armed, right at the centerline, and I am only a few meters back, wanting to move farther away but not wanting to move too far from the ball I have placed there. I cannot lean over to pick it up, as that will leave me exposed to his throw. All this goes through my head, but it is only a second before he makes his strike. It is just above knee-level, and moving…. left. I dodge right and the errant throw smashes into the barrier at the rear of the court. I am off-balance from the dodge, but I make my move before he has time to move back and get another ball. I snatch up my ball and take two quick steps toward the line as he backpedals. Not slowing, I let fly. Panic hits the instant it leaves my hand. Too high. It is going for his chest. His hands move up to make the catch, but it is not directly at him. It is slightly off to his left side. His body rapidly rotates to take up the inertia of the ball… and it is in his arms… but it is too much!! He is completely turned around and falling as I see that he cannot handle the throw. I see his arms cradling around the ball that has already left them. The ball strikes the ground several meters behind him and we are Victorious!! The team runs to the court. The thing I remember most clearly is holding up my arm with my finger showing “number 1” while lifted up in a big bearhug, and thinking THIS is why people play sports.



The “A” Championship featured “Ranal Ape” and our nemesis “One Nuts.” After losing the first two, One Nuts came back for the 3-2 victory and the A Pool Championship with its $1000 prize. In a little twist, the organizers decided to feature a game with the “A” and “B” Champions facing off against one another for a “Golden Dodgeball.” Our chance for retribution…. but it would not come. They again took us down 2-1 in the best-of-three series. In game 3, one of their guys caught two balls within one second of each other. Impressive.

So, having won the most prize money and setting the bar in terms of uniforms for subsequent years, we headed home. With sore elbows, knees, shoulders and one likely broken bone…. wearing capes and tights, blue hair and face paint…Clearly, this is what Champions look like.


10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hahahaha! YES. That was an awesome post Snider. And the picture is glorious. I'm so jealous. Way to step it up with your girly arm.

Snides said...

Can you believe they gave us $1250...for playing DODGEBALL?

Anonymous said...

Dude, quit that fuckin lame-ass job of yours and become a pro Dodgeball player. That's obviously your true calling.

Anonymous said...

So Calcut came to the door at 6 in the morning eh? I would have given anything to be there, anything. Awesome

michelle. said...

ha ha matt.

sounds like the awesomest weekend ever!

i'm jealous. i wish i weren't afraid of dodgeballs. :(

Anonymous said...

You sure the other guy got knocked down by your throw and not slipped on a banana peel? I mean you do throw like a girl, so it's a little implausible. But kudos on the cash. I hope you bought 3 and a half hookers with it.

Cracker said...

Dude, that's freaking AWESOME. And all I did was drink for 13 hours straight (averaging 1.4 drinks/hour) on Friday and then go rollerskating on Saturday. none of my excapades made me any money either. I'm way jealous.

Darth! said...

Sweet Snider. I watched Dodgeball on the weekend and now I have a mental image of you with a Ben Stiller mustache. Greasy.

Anonymous said...

Kyle, when you have to start justifying your coolness by using math to prove how much you drank.... you're not cool anymore.

Anonymous said...

Hey Matt,
I don't think you will remember me. I was the girl from Holland. I came to visit Rob in November/ December and I stayed at his house. We met on a Firday night when we played a card game and got hammered. (at least, I was) Well, I came across this story and it was great! Rob told me a lot about it. Iw as wondering if I could get the pictures. (so I can put them on my wall.) my email address is: vml@liemerscollege.nl.
love Ellen