While playing catch with my son on Saturday afternoon – we noticed the neighborhood boys having a snowball fight. The temptation was too much and we tossed a few snowballs down the hill at them.
Up the street to the corner they came – and we headed down to meet them. 5 of them against me and my son. Then it was on. It wasn’t long before they retreated and me and the boy walked back home – victorious.
But moments later they regrouped on the corner again – apparently this time with a plan – which included taunting us. So back we came and they tried to hold their ground. We ended up pinning one behind a snow bank and drilling him from point blank range as the other s scattered.
Sunday morning came and they sent up one to challenge us, but wanted us to come down to their place. We told them – “1 hour – and one of you is going to cry.”
After 45 min we headed out – figuring they were going to be ready for a real battle. Sure enough, they had a look-out and a fort built – but we were coming from the side – and we rushed them. The surprise was too much for a couple of them and they retreated – the last two were at our mercy - and the lookout was isolated to the side.
Now we had their fort and about 50 snowballs they had made, but they were now in their bigger fort they had retreated to. We traded snowballs for a while scoring some good hits and we decided to rush them. We took some good hits and had to retreat – they were getting smarter – sticking together better.
In order to be a good snowball fighter you have to be able to take them too. We regrouped and charged again. This time fighting our way to the fort and the massive stash of snowballs they had. The break came when one tripped backwards and another tripped over him. We pounced and pelted them with their own snowballs. They scattered toward the barn, leaving the lookout on the other side of the fort in the open field. He made a run for it and we hit him hard, he retreated to the lookout point and again was pelted hard.
We then took a bucket and filled it with their snowballs and they made a break for it from the barn toward the road. We chased them and pelted them scoring numerous hits.
We then took a shortcut behind some houses to catch them by surprise on the road – back to the barn they ran and hid up in the hay loft.
They would open the hay loft door and try to pelt us. I climbed up the side of the barn and pulled the door open and my son drilled them. Down they ran and we got them inside the barn – again hard. Up into the loft again they ran. Back and for the we went like that scene in the wizard of Oz. Finally my son tied the door to the loft tight and we left – leaving them to have to jump of the loft to get free.
It’s a great thing when snowball and baseball season collide on Easter Sunday!