Zen and the Art of Paintball

The scoreboard has a way of reducing an entire weekend to a single number.

One win. Three losses.

For some people, that’s all they need to hear or understand. The record becomes the story. But coaching has taught me that the truth is almost never found in the standings. It lives in the space between preparation and execution, between knowing what must be done and having the discipline to do it when the pressure is highest.

The Midwest Open was a lesson in contradictions for us.

This team walked onto the field and defeated the number one team in professional paintball, Red Legion. That match we demonstrated that our systems work, our preparation matters, and that when the team commits to one purpose, we are capable of beating anyone in the world. Then, over the course of the rest of the event, we became our own greatest obstacle.

Our 1-3 finish wasn’t the result of a lack of talent. It wasn’t because we were overmatched. It was because we repeatedly failed to execute with the consistency that professional paintball demands. Great moments were followed by preventable mistakes. Disciplined points gave way to undisciplined decisions. We would glimpse the team we are capable of becoming, only to drift away from the principles that put us there. That is perhaps the hardest lesson in high-level competition: potential is not performance. One exceptional game does not define a great team any more than one poor match would define a bad one. Winning belongs to the teams that can reproduce excellence over and over again, regardless of opponent or circumstance.

As a coach, it can be difficult to confront these truths because they begin with me. Every event forces me to ask uncomfortable questions. Did I prepare the team well enough? Were our priorities clear? Did I communicate effectively? Did I create an environment where discipline could thrive under pressure? Did I instill in my players confidence? Leadership demands ownership before criticism and reflection before reaction.

This blog post will be my attempt to honestly examine what happened in Cincinnati. Not to dwell on the losses, but rather to understand them. Because if we’re willing to study failure with the same enthusiasm that we celebrate success, then a 1-3 weekend can become the foundation for something far greater than a winning record. Growth rarely begins with victory. It almost always begins with the courage to look directly at defeat and learn from what it has to teach.

VS Dynasty

Every tournament tells you who you are or who you want to be. Not because of the final score necessarily, but because pressure has a tendency to strip away illusion. It exposes what you’ve actually mastered and, more importantly, what you’ve only rehearsed. Our opening match against San Diego Dynasty was, in many ways, a preview of our entire weekend.

The 8-3 final might lead one to believe it was a one-sided contest. It wasn’t. We were, in most cases, in each point.

The opening point was played exactly as we had envisioned it during our prep work. Our guns off the break were there. We established immediate control which allowed us to dictate the tempo of the point. My guys made it to their intended positions, and each understood not only his individual responsibility but how it fit into the larger picture unfolding across the field. We closed well. Movement was good, the communication was solid, and the guys decisions were made with confidence. During that point, our execution mirrored our preparation. We were “crisp”.

My understanding of Dynasty’s personnel, I thought, could give us an edge. From the pit, we were able to identify player combinations and for the most part, anticipate how they would approach the field. More than once, we got it right. The challenge, however, is that information only provides opportunity. It does not guarantee execution.

I knew Blake Yarber would be an issue. We did not successfully address him well when he was on the field.

As the match progressed, the quality of our game slowly deteriorated. While our guns on the break continued to do well at first, we failed to maintain that same level of execution once the point settled into the midgame. We began losing one-on-one gunfights, and getting dinked out of our bunkers. We stopped consistently checking off threats before making decisions. Players who should have been accounted for became surprises, and surprises in professional paintball almost always become fatal. The performance that defined the opening point gradually gave way to hurried decisions and missed details. Against a team like Dynasty, those details quickly became points on the scoreboard and not in your favor.

I have always believed that there is a valuable lessons hidden in each match. And this was one of them. Winning the break is only the beginning. The teams that consistently win events and matches are the ones that continue winning the point after the breakout. Through disciplined guns, threat assessment, creating pressure, and in most cases, commitment to the game plan. Our preparation gave us the opportunity to compete. But it is sustained execution that ultimately determines outcomes in our sport. That lesson would follow us for the remainder of the weekend.

Key moments –

• Point 7, I have to give a shout out to Ronny Tiner. Great heads up play.
• Point 8 – Dynasty’s guns are hot on the break now. Arturo takes full advantage.
• Point 9 – Omara got away with one there on his wrist in that 3v2…
• Point 10 – Ryan Greenspan. Enough said.

VS Red Legion

There are some teams that demand your best because of who they are long before the horn sounds. Red Legion is most definitely one of those teams (as is Dynasty for that matter). Legion came into this event as the number one team in the NXL. And rightfully so. They had earned it through controlled aggression, exceptional fundamentals, and what one could only call an unwavering commitment to their identity. Fast paced, in your face, pressure. Few teams in the world lane better, run and gun better, and few teams are as comfortable forcing gunfights and dictating the tempo of a match from the beginning. I made a joke to my wife… but when I thought about it, it wasn’t really a joke. It seemed factual. I said, “When you play Red Legion, you’ aren’t just playing a roster of elite players, you’re playing a proven philosophy.”

As a coaches and players, we spend countless hours studying tendencies. To clarify, this isn’t to predict their every move. Rather it’s to understand the principles behind them. At layout practice and throughout the week leading up to the event , the Cats and I had several conversations that weren’t centered on individual players (okay…maybe a little) as much as they were about the Legions intentions. Where would Red Legion want to close from? What routes would they use to get there? Which aggressive sequences would they most likely leverage against our own system? What pace would they use? The thought being, if we could understand the questions they were asking of the field, perhaps we could have the right answers waiting. And one thought kept going through my mind. Red Legion is at its most dangerous when the game is moving at their pace. They thrive in the controlled chaos they create. Their confidence grows with every successful full court press. They look for the aggressive exchange, playing the statistics. They build up momentum like a juggernaut until they are titans imposing their will. So I started thinking, I didn’t want to beat them at their game. That would be foolish. But I damn sure wanted to make sure they played ours.

The objective became simple: clean up our execution from our previous match, survive the initial wave of pressure, and counterpunch only when the field gave us permission. If we could extend each point beyond the opening 45 seconds, I believed the rhythm of the game would begin to shift to us. But we would throw gear shifts out there as well. We would use a “broken rhythm” (Bruce Lee). We would throw a punch or two of our own to break up their aggression. Lean into the fight to disrupt their rhythm. Their pace would become our opportunity. Their aggression would create windows of opportunity for us to exploit. But it would require resisting the temptation to force plays that weren’t there. It required believing that patience is not necessarily passive.

I have enormous respect for Red Legion and for the coaching staff that has built one of the premier organizations in professional paintball. Not to mention, Ryan Gray is one of my best friends. Facing great teams like this forces you to think differently. It challenges your assumptions and demands that you solve problems in real time. For one match, my players embraced that challenge. They trusted the plan and, more importantly, they trusted one another. And for the first time that weekend, preparation and execution became one and the same. It was glorious.

It was a bloodbath on the break almost everypoint. I was proud of the composure and performance from my guys. They showed what they can be. THIS is what the Atlanta Jungle Cats are capable of. Don’t tell me Legion were “trying things out” and that’s why we won. Trust me, that’s not how they work. Every decision by them is calculated. We earned that win.

Key Moments

• Point 1 – Berdnikov in the one on one. Perfect bait move. Props.
• Point 2 – Davis Stephens in the 1 vs 2 against Kirill and Berdnikov. Wow.
• Point 3 – Play call here with Aaron Rios doing exactly what I wanted him to do and the guys building off of it.
• Point 5 – Play call again thinking we would pull up short on the center and see if they commit to take center to move their snake. It worked.
• Point 7 – Evan Ruelas pulling the point back and forcing a concession
• Point 8 – Almost gave a 4 on 2 away but Evan Ruelas once again, head on a swivel, catches Sergey who gets a major putting us on the powerplay next point
• Point 9 – Jay Oller with the shot on Malloy and Davis Stephens getting his 6ft frame tight to survive the onslaught
• Point 11 – Jay Oller and Evan Ruellas!
• Point 13 – Mike McGowan and Davis Stephens weathering the storm and making shots count.

VS Aftershock

I don’t believe the most difficult issue facing coaches in our sport today is necessarily preparing your team to play well. For me, I think it is understanding why the same team can look unrecognizable less than twenty-four hours later.

The night before our match against Aftershock, there was a confidence in us. Not arrogance, confidence. We had just played one of our best matches of the season against the number one team in the league. More importantly, we had done it by trusting our prep work rather than abandoning it. Our systems had worked. Our guns were hot, our communication had been sharp, our discipline had held under pressure, and we had been solid in our execution.

I reviewed Aftershock with the team the same way we had every other opponent. We expected them to make adjustments based on what we had shown. We discussed those possibilities at length, but I never felt compelled to reinvent or change anything. Right, wrong, or indifferent, I believed how we were playing the field was still our greatest strength. I was getting production out of most of the guys. We just needed to continue applying pressure, dictating tempo, and forcing them to react to us instead of the other way around. I felt very little needed to change. But on the field, everything did.

From the opening moments, our offense never seemed to find its rhythm. It seemed disjointed. The aggression that had defined us against Red Legion gave way to hesitation and what I can only say was uncertainty. Opportunities presented themselves, and we didn’t capitalized on them. It almost felt like Aftershock was at our team meeting, agreed to our plan, and executed it better than we did. We played as though we were waiting for the game to happen instead of making it happen ourselves.

My coaching instinct after a loss is to search for the mistakes I made. Did I misread the matchup? Did I misread the confidence I sensed the night before? Did I fail to communicate the priorities clearly enough? Those are questions every honest coach should ask themselves because accountability begins at the top. But, as I have also learned over the years, coaching has its limits.

A game plan is only a framework. Preparation, play development and calling, lines… all of this only takes you so far in creating the opportunities. Adjustments only matter if the situations that require them actually develop. Looking back at this match, I don’t believe our play calling failed us. The adjustments we had anticipated never became the deciding factor because we never established the offensive pressure necessary to force the game into those moments. Sure, there were some moments but one or two guys can’t do it by themselves. Sometimes the hardest film to watch isn’t the one where you were outcoached. It’s the one where your team simply never becomes the version of itself that you know exists. Those are the losses that stay with me the longest. Not because the answers are obvious, but because they aren’t.

Aftershocks guns were solid on the break. Survivability was an issue that plagued us this match. I will be watching this tape a lot as will my players.

Key Moments

• Point 2 – We dominate the point thanks to Oller and Tiner but fall for a deadman’s walk. I had turned my back on the point to work and later found out two of my guys in the pit suspected… we had the bodies, we should have taken a “tactical minor” for talking from the pits and told our guys on the field to shoot that &%$^@#$. Jetski thought he would add insult to injury by shooting some of our pods too. Class act that one. What people don’t know is just prior to this point, the teams had been warned about overshooting… I have a sneaking suspicion that Jet just put a big target on the entire teams back for the rest of the season.
• Point 4 – The team showed composure while Aftershock was creating pressure pressure and more pressure. Ronny Tiner broke the game open with solid help from Ruellas while McGowan stayed alive in a precarious situation.
• Point 5 – we shot the snake on the break. Ronny gets bad intel but once Davis got into the small snake brick, I knew we would pick up that d side can cross and let Jay go to work. And that’s what happened. McGowan should have been in the d Side wall at this point but we let Markie Frans get wide which complicated things. Davis almost steals the point back. Markie played it well.
• Point 6 – no urgency. Should have at least had another point on the board.

VS Ironmen

One of the unwritten rules of professional sports is that every game contains something you cannot control. In the case of Paintball, a bad bounce, a missed shot, perhaps an equipment failure… A questionable penalty.

Winning teams understand that those moments are inevitable. The good ones don’t waste energy on them. They acknowledge it, reset, and move on to the next point. Of course, that’s easier to write in a blog than to actually live it.

The Ironmen were 0-3, but records can be deceptive. They are a dangerous opponent with talented players capable of punishing complacency. We had invested significant time scouting them throughout the event and felt we had developed a strong understanding of their personnel and tendencies. We knew where they preferred to attack, how they wanted to do it, and where we believed opportunities would present themselves. The plan was pretty straightforward again. Play our game, pressure the field, force them into difficult decisions, and trust we had what it takes.

For the opening points, we did exactly that. While perhaps a bit more measured than we had been against Red Legion, our structure was sound. We were playing disciplined paintball, managing the field well, and putting ourselves in position to control the match.

After scoring 2, the Ironmen’s guns started getting hot on the break. It was a tied match with a little over 4 minutes on the clock. The Ironmen score another taking the lead with 2:40 on the clock.

Then came a penalty.

From where I stood, it was unwarranted. Even after watching it with Jason Trosen, I still feel it was a bad call. I understand the refs have a difficult job. I get that. But the explanation I received seemed…off. Inconsistent really. Jesse Stephens creeps up on Jay in the snake. Jay sensed it, and was turned that way expecting him. Jesse swings his gun around and fires a MILISECOND before Jay pops his hopper. To me, Bang/Bang. I had watched players all weekend at the wall exchange rounds WAY slower than this… but they felt we deserved a red. It turns a 4 on 3 up body situation into a 3 on 1 at a critical moment when we could have tied the match. Instead, it handed life to our opponent, who, in my opinion, (and I have GREAT friends on that team. Mad respect) were searching for confidence. Those moments happen. Every coach who has spent any amount of time around this sport has faced them.

But… the painful truth though is that the penalty didn’t beat us. We were now down by 2 with a little over a minute left and were forced to run into guns.

If you aspire to compete at the highest level, you must become emotionally immune to circumstances beyond your control. It’s the Stoic way. Officials will make calls you disagree with. Bounces will/won’t always go your way. Momentum will swing without warning. None of that changes what should happen next. We allowed some uncontrollable moments to influence too many controllable ones. That’s a difficult lesson, but an essential one. Good teams don’t merely overcome adversity because they’re mentally tougher. They overcome it because they refuse to give adversity ownership over the next point, the next match, the next event. That afternoon, we weren’t what we could be. And in this game, that’s all it takes.

Key Moments

• Point 2 – We win a low body situation with Ronny and Davis.
• Point 4 – Ronny almost steals a point again in a down body situation. I’m telling you, I’m glad to have this man on our team.

Final Thoughts

When I look back on this event, I don’t necessarily see a 1-3 record. I see a team that briefly became exactly who it is capable of becoming. That may sound like an odd conclusion or even mumbo jumbo to some after a disappointing weekend, but coaching has taught me that growth doesn’t always follow a straight line. Sometimes it reveals itself in isolated moments long before it reveals itself in the standings.

Against Red Legion, we didn’t stumble into a victory. We earned it. We prepared appropriately, trusted one another, executed our plan, and defeated the number one team in professional paintball. That performance wasn’t an accident. It was proof. Proof that our systems work. Proof that our players possess the talent. Proof that myself and others are preparing this team to compete with anyone in the world.

The challenge is no longer discovering whether we are capable. We know that and think we always have. The challenge now is becoming capable every point, every match, every event. Consistency is the most difficult skill in professional paintball because it demands significant discipline. Anyone can play one great point. Good teams can play one great match. Great teams repeat excellence until excellence becomes their identity. And that’s where our work has to be focused on.

As I am known to do, I examine my own leadership first. Could I have communicated more clearly? Prepared differently? Seen something I failed to recognize in the moment? Those questions are part of the responsibility that comes with coaching, and I don’t think they will ever disappear from my process. The moment I believe I have all the answers is the moment I stop growing. But leadership is also a shared responsibility. I can provide vision. I can prepare a plan. I can study tendencies, anticipate adjustments, and make the right calls from behind the net. No, I am by no means perfect and get it wrong sometimes. But eventually, the players step onto the field and the horn will sound. At that point, preparation has to become performance. No coach can execute a breakout, win a gunfight, or make a decision under pressure for his players. That bridge belongs to the team. The encouraging part is I know this group has crossed it. I’ve seen what it looks like. So have they. Now, we have to keep moving forward, keep crossing the bridges. The next step is making that version of ourselves the standard instead of the exception.

There is an old saying:

“Amateurs practice until they get it right. Professionals practice until they can’t get it wrong.”

That’s where our focus should be. We won’t change who we are. And we aren’t going to be something we’re not. But change IS coming…and if done right, we’ll narrow the gap between what we are capable of doing and what we consistently do. Because somewhere inside that 1-3 weekend is a team capable of beating the best in the world. Our job now is to make sure that team is the one that shows up every time the horn sounds.

Be water my friends