(The silver ball being held by Liz in the middle of the pack is what is officially known as the "melonball.")
The only part Wikipedia got right was the word "flesh."
This was an injury I sustained last summer after an unfortunate pass to the face. It included a sweet concussion and a severe dissapointment that the game had to end for the night. Call me stupid (or Quasimodo, like the little kid at In N' Out did the next day) but the game is worth it. We play for hours until our bodies are scratched and bruised and our fingers lose their ability to grip and then we usually play one more game. It's hard to explain why this game is so thrilling unless you play it, but it really is unbeatable as far as adrenaline levels go.
Last night was the first good match I've played since returning from Europe, and boy was it crazy. Even crazier than the time I pulled 11 straight red ones out of a Mike & Ike box.
...if this photo is incredibly disturbing to you, then you weren't cut out for melonball. Opponents to the game have often made comments to me like "why would you want to do something with such a high risk of injuries?" And aside from losing major man-points for that remark, they are also forgetting the well-known fact that every year over 133,000 people are injured by doors. Is that going to stop them from using their walk-in-closets? Possibly. But am I going to stop playing melonball? Never.
We've always said that the game was for everyone, so you're invited to our next match.
But if you can't handle the heat, nobody will make you stay.
Just be careful with the door on the way out.
I hear those things are dangerous.
Mellonballer for life,
Katie
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