Dodge, Duck, Dare - The Day I Joined Dodgeball

Fear hits hard—but so do dodgeballs.

I never thought I’d end up joining a dodgeball team, but here I am, sweaty palms, heart thumping, the smell of gym floor rubber and adrenaline in the air. We are the Untouchaballs! And let me just say, our team took many to the face.

The first night was absolute chaos. All sixteen teams squeezed into multiple courts, balls flying like comets in every direction, people screaming, sneakers squeaking, whistles blowing. It felt less like a friendly social league and more like being dropped into a gladiator pit with Nerf ammunition on steroids.

Of course, in true Dodgeball fashion, the only quote running through my head was, “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.” Problem was, I couldn’t dodge either. Not yet, anyway. At one point, I took a full-speed hit straight to the chest. The impact was so loud it was like a cannon blast. Silence echoed the room as the players on the court just stared. I was hit so hard it knocked the wind out of me. For a split second, I thought my ribcage had collapsed in on itself. My vision fuzzed at the edges, my lungs clawed for air. Painful? Absolutely. Embarrassing? Maybe. But oddly enough, it became the fuel I needed to wake the competitive beast inside.

It was intimidating as hell. One of my friends actually quit after that first night, swearing it was too much, too intense, too scary, too chaotic. And honestly, I understood. Everything about dodgeball that night screamed, Get out while you still can. But when I got home, something strange happened. I began to dream about it. I saw myself running back onto that court, dodging balls in slow motion, the sound of rubber smacking against the walls echoing in my head. My subconscious was telling me something: as scary as it was, I wasn’t done. Or maybe it was PTSD. Who knows.

So I showed up again and again and again. Not because I suddenly had skills, but because I realized this was exactly what I came for: the nerves, the sting, the fear, the chaos. That rush of being so far out of my comfort zone that my body didn’t know whether to panic or laugh. And the truth is, I stuck it out. Each game, each bruise, each wild throw pulled me deeper into the madness, until the fear started feeling more like fuel.

We are the Untouchaballs!

That’s what daring is, isn’t it? Not waiting until you’re good and ready, or brave, but showing up anyway. It’s getting blasted in the chest, gasping for breath, and deciding to come back for more. It’s letting the chaos remind you that you’re alive. And I was happy I stayed with it, I met so many great/interesting people.

Maybe your dare won’t be dodgeball, maybe it’s stand-up comedy, or taking that trip, or finally trying something that terrifies you. Whatever it is, lean in. Because if I learned anything from that first night in the dodgeball arena, it’s that the best stories happen when fear and curiosity collide. And besides, if you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.