The Dirty Saints
by Paul Knoch on May 16, 2007
I have heard artists say that they don’t create their songs or sculpture so much as they “discover” them as if they were always there, part of the universe, waiting to be found like a shell on a lonely beach. That’s how I feel about the Saints. No one invented them. They have always been there, waiting for a name.
Technically, the Dirty Saints came into being on a clear Sunday morning in the living room of my friend Jayson’s beautiful home outside Salt Lake City. I had flown to Salt Lake for the weekend to play paintball with Jayson and visit the new headquarters of Special Ops Paintball. As I sipped a cup of coffee, Jayson and I relaxed on couches and discussed how the game of paintball was changing.
Jayson and I both started playing paintball in the mid 1980’s. I was in and out of the game over the next twenty years but Jayson’s commitment to the game never wavered. He played through the nineties and into the new millennium. He watched the game grow and take new directions. He followed paintball out of the woods into the tournament scene and then back to the woods again. Somehow, through it all, he never lost his passion for the game. He stayed true to the original values of the game: honor, integrity, and respect.
Jayson was a big part of why I returned to paintball. He helped reintroduce me to a game I had forgotten how much I loved. On so many levels, paintball is everything I enjoy. Competition, adrenaline, strategy, fellowship, and fun. I returned to the sport in a big way, spending weeks poring over every paintball magazine I could find. I soon realized the sport had transformed in my absence. Modern paintball was increasingly focused on the tournament style of play with rectangular arenas and air-filled bunkers. I also sensed a new attitude pervading the sport. Paintball was becoming an “extreme sport” with a harsher, edgier look and feel. What bothered me most was the glorification of cheating and poor sportsmanship. I couldn’t believe how much paintball had changed.
As my coffee got cold, Jayson and I talked about how this new acceptance of bad sportsmanship threatened the entire sport. Somehow tourney ball had allowed cheating to become accepted, if not respected. Some were saying it was just part of the game now. Jayson and I play woodsball™ and cheating has never been a part of that game. Woodsball™ relies on honesty and fair play. When you are hit, you call yourself out. If the tournament mentality spread into woodsball™, wiping and playing on would destroy the sport forever.
With grim faces, we considered the fate of the game we both loved. That’s when it happened. As if illuminated by the pale morning sun, we saw it clearly for the first time. A vision. A band of brothers dedicated to saving the soul of the game. An association of those who are committed to the original values of the sport. The Dirty Saints.
Like I said before, they have always been there.
We didn’t invent them. We just gave them a name. The Dirty Saints have been playing paintball since the very beginning. They’ve guarded the game through a quarter century of growth. The Saints are guys like Jayson who have persevered despite the challenges and stayed true to the heart and soul of the sport. They are players who haven’t followed the crowd. They aren’t motivated by plastic trophies or corporate sponsorships. They play for the sheer exhilaration they feel in their soul when they take the field.
The Saints are known by their creed. They play clean. They play safe. They play straight up. They encourage younger players and they punish cheaters and loudmouths. They call their hits whether a ref is watching or not. They’d sooner quit the sport before they would ever consider cheating. For the Dirty Saints, playing with honor is a sacred act. By word and deed, they give back to the sport they love. New players seek them out for advice and encouragement. The Saints are respected because they have never taken shortcuts to success.
Dirty Saints can be found anywhere paintball is played. They play with pumps and semis. They play scenario, outlaw, tourney, and woodsball™. They are young and old, male and female. Their common bond is their integrity. They are the guardians of the game. A fellowship of the faithful. They are the only hope for our sport. For years, the Saints have mostly walked their path alone. Now its time to rise up as one and confront this threat. It’s time to confront the enemy and draw a line in the sand.
I know that there are many Saints out there. I have read their articles and I have played alongside them. Some have been Dirty Saints for years. I hope others will be inspired to change their ways and follow a new path. We welcome anyone who is committed to the original values of the game. We invite you to join us. We now have a name. The Dirty Saints. To learn more about the Dirty Saint’s creed, go to www.dirtysaints.com