You know when you go to a water balloon fight as an observer, there’s always a chance of getting wet. “That’s okay,” I told myself, “it’s only water.”
While training for the week at the Colorado Springs RFK camp, our trainee group attended the “Everybody’s Birthday Party” celebration for all the Foster children. After the cake, the campers went to the softball field for air jumpers and to dispatch 2,000 water balloons. For purposes of clarification, the softball field at 8,500 feet elevation in the Colorado mountains, was not grass, just pebbles and mud. This will be important later.
As a member of the National Training staff, I’ve come to realize that when visiting local camps, we are at times considered a “target” at such celebrations. That’s okay, it goes with the territory, and like I said, “it’s just water.” We are here to celebrate the kids and give them a great time. If a kid wants to hit you with a water balloon, you let them. It’s part of camp.
Another observation of mine over the years is that occasionally, some of the adult volunteers get a little carried away in water fights. It’s indirectly related to the campers having a great time, so that’s okay too. We want our volunteers to have a great week and after all, a little water never hurt anyone, right?
Somehow, there is a natural progression
for all water balloon fights. They start
out throwing water balloons, and they end up throwing buckets of water on each
other.
While in the shadow of Pikes Peak, standing a safe distance
from the fray and beside the Camp Directors, I was keeping a sharp eye on my
surroundings. Noticing who was sneaking
up on whom, checking the woods behind me, and observing my flanks.
After about 40 minutes, I noticed a guy crouching behind me
in the tree line, with a bucket. Then
there was the man on my left, squatting near a bucket in the open field. There was general chaos going on all about
us, as most water fights digress from mild chaos into major chaos. I started to warn the Camp Director to be
careful, something was brewing. I could sense it in the thin, dry air.
Then, with a well-planned distraction,
all set-up by the assembled Colorado
Water Assassins, my attention was drawn away, and the assassins moved in
for the ambush.
All of a sudden, it clicked in my mind. “They
weren’t after the Camp Director, they were after ME!” Me, the National Training Director from the
National office training National Trainees!!!
How could they be after ME?! What
audacity! It must have been the thin
air; their brains were deprived of high octane oxygen!
Well, we train our volunteers that when
kids face trauma, they respond in one of three ways: fight, flight or
freeze. Well, it wasn't quite trauma,
but my brain reacted in much the same way.
I wasn't about to freeze and just get drenched, oh no! I went into full flight mode like I was back
on the track team running the 100 meters.
I burned a trail across the muddy path like a gold medalist
in search of a dry shirt. Unfortunately,
one of the water assassins made a move to my right, which caused me to cut
left. On the muddy field without cleats,
I slipped and went down like a sidewinder tornado doing a barrel roll through
the mud. It wasn't pretty. It wasn’t even athletic looking. It was more worthy of America’s Funniest Home
Videos.
Well, that ended my escape like a bad hamstring ended my
Sophomore year of college track. In that
brief but muddy moment, it triggered in my brain that “the jig was up.” They were
going to close in like a Camp Director finding a new donor, and there was
nothing I could do to avoid the drenching.
But at that very moment, my brain once again kicked into another
response mode, the fight back mode!
If I was going to get wet and muddy, I was going to take as
many of them with me as I could.
After the barrel roll in the muddy maylay, I came up ready to hit the first guy
I was pointed at, and it happened to be Peter!
Peter (the Rock) is bigger than me, but none of that mattered, he had a
bucket pointed my way and I ran directly at him hitting the bucket with my head
so as to not damage anything. I got half
the water on me, but Peter told me later (during the peace negotiations) that I
got half the water on him as well.
I bounced off Peter (he didn't go down, did I mention that
Peter is bigger than me?), and went after the next assassin in my general
direction.
Pastor Joey, who, as you can see, stayed a safe distance away.
While on the ground, another assassin came in close enough
to get me with bucket #4. Ah, but he got
too close and I lunged out to clip his legs.
He didn’t go down instantly, but my informers tell me he stumbled and
went down after a few struggling steps.
That is when I got hit by bucket #5 by the truest assassin
of all, Miguel D. Some of you may
remember Miguel from America’s Got Talent
a few years ago when he took 4th place as a singer.
Miguel hit me when I was totally down and
distracted. I never even knew he was
there until I saw the photos. So Miguel,
be on the lookout. Sometime in your
future you’ll be on stage singing your heart out, and from the back row a water
balloon will come sailing in with your name on it!
I got up again, and went after the next closest guy, which
was Pastor Joey. I gave a quick chase,
but he had a head start, and the slippery ground gave way once again. Joey got away!
My pursuit took me back to the cheering crowd. Whom they were cheering for is still
unknown. I think they were cheering for
both sides. Me, to get drenched, and the
assassins to get tackled. Either way, it
was entertaining for everyone to watch.
My adrenaline finally backed off, and the fight mode
dissolved with much appreciation that I hadn’t taken things any farther than
just a few tackles.
I recovered and headed back to the Directors and noticed one
of the Camp Photographers was right there taking pictures. I gave him the universal “thumbs up” that all
was well.
After all, it’s for the kids, it’s for the fun of the
volunteers and it’s just water, right?
At the end of the day, put on a smile, it will all dry off!
Oddly enough, it probably only lasted 15-20 seconds, and I
have absolutely no memory of getting hit with water. I remember hitting the assassins, tackling Evan,
clipping the mystery man, and chasing Pastor Joey, but no memory of the
water. If it wasn’t for the photos, I
wouldn't have known much about it, but clearly, I got drenched!
Happy Camping!
Thanks to Uriah
Werner, a.k.a The Shutter Chef for
the photos. http://www.uriahwerner.com/
