I Didn’t Grow Up With Paintball. I Grew Up Because of It.
People think influence comes from winning trophies or wearing the right jersey. The truth is, most of mine came from moments when I had nothing: no money, no leverage, no guarantees except a decision to go all in.
I didn’t set out to be influential. I just refused to quit.
Where It Started And Why It Mattered
I, Aaron Tholey grew up in Inver Grove Heights, Minnesota. Suburban. Ordinary. No shortcuts. Like a lot of people, my introduction to paintball was simple a birthday party. One day of chaos, adrenaline, and laughter that flipped a switch I didn’t know existed. That switch eventually led me to a local field in Rosemount, MN called The Adventure Zone. That place wasn’t fancy. It didn’t need to be. It was where I found my people.
At the time, paintball wasn’t built for kids. It was grown men, grown egos, and grown expectations. But I didn’t know any better and honestly, that helped. Along with a tight group of friends, I formed my first team: The Disciples. We were the first kids team in the state of Minnesota. That mattered more than people realize. Not because we were great right away but because we didn’t wait for permission. We showed up. We learned fast. And we earned respect the only way this sport recognizes it: by competing.
The Turning Point Nobody Talks About
Friday nights at Adventure Zone changed everything. That’s where I met Ryan Westphal, captain of the local powerhouse amateur team, Team Them. I was young, hungry, and trying to keep my Autococker running with more hope than knowledge. Ryan took the time to help me fix my gun. No ego. No gatekeeping. That moment wasn’t loud. But it was pivotal. Ryan and his brother Todd Westphal took me under their wing. That’s where I learned the technical side of the game: the discipline, the details, the thinking. My best friend and cousin Nate Cota and my friend Bob Lavoie rounded out the core of kids, and we played together for years.
That’s where I stopped just playing paintball and started understanding it.
The Climb Wasn’t Glamorous — But It Was Relentless
As the years went on, teams evolved. Team Them merged with Cypress. Later, I moved to team Division under Brad Gruett where we were local, gritty, built on reps. We weren’t chasing headlines. We were building consistency. I played for several amateur teams, including Impulse, where I became one of the highest compensated amateur players at the time. That wasn’t about money, it was about validation. Playing for free with even any compensation was unheard of at that level and time. Then came Ignition, founded by Joe Peterson, a nationally competing team where recognition started to shift. I wasn’t just a Minnesota kid with potential anymore. That’s when national competition entered the picture. Recognition followed, but it didn’t feel secure. Nothing ever did. Then came the opportunity that changed my life.
The Tryout I Had No Business Affording
My big chance came through a chain of moments that paintball people understand: connections, timing, and someone taking a chance. Nick Walker (Texas Storm) introduced me to Avery Amaya, who was visiting up here as a sales rep but he was also the captain of Texas Storm. Avery watched me dominate a local practice and invited me to a professional tryout in Texas.
Here’s the part that still defines me: I didn’t have the money to go. So I sold my equipment to buy a plane ticket. And then I asked the guy I sold it to if I could borrow it back for the weekend… because I still needed to play the tryout. That wasn’t a “cool story.” That was my reality. Humble beginnings. Suburban kid. No safety net. Just a decision: ALL in. When I got to Texas, I didn’t play safe. I bunkered someone every chance I got. I wanted them to notice. I wanted them to feel it. And they did. I made the team becoming the youngest professional paintball player to ever come out of Minnesota.
The Part People Don’t Know About Staying Relevant
I played professionally for multiple decades, and major franchises and organizations. I learned quickly that pro paintball isn’t just skill. It’s adaptation. Teams change. Formats change. The pressure changes. Your identity gets tested, especially when you’re no longer the “new kid,” and now you’re the one expected to lead. Over time, I played across the highest levels of the sport and eventually even co-founded my own Pro team, Indianapolis Mutiny with Tommy O’Donnell in 2010. I’ve been an All-Star. I’ve been part of builds and rebuilds. I’ve been traded, reshuffled, and redefined. And here’s the truth:
The hardest part isn’t making it.
The hardest part is staying hungry when you’ve already proven you can do it.
The Proof Isn’t Just Old Footage
That’s why I’m proud of what the last few years say not because it’s flattering, but because it’s honest. In 2024 and 2025, I wasn’t living off nostalgia. I was still competing and still finishing at the top:
- NXL World Cup 2024: Open wins and podium finishes with Aftershock, including a 1st place result
- NXL Windy City Major 2024: multiple top results including 1st place in Open
- Pro DNA Open 2024: 1st place (Pro) with FARSIDE
- Old Bay Classic 2025: 1st place (Open) and 2nd place (Pro) with FARSIDE
- NXL World Cup 2025: 1st place (Masters) and 1st place (Open) with Aftershock
That matters to me because it proves something:
I didn’t just have a moment. I built something that lasts.
What It Cost (Because It Always Costs)
People ask what it takes, and they usually mean training or talent. But the real cost is quieter: It’s the stress of constantly measuring yourself against who you used to be. It’s the doubt that shows up when you’re not winning. It’s the relationships that get tested when your identity is tied to performance. It’s the fear that one day you’ll be “the guy who used to be good.” And the only way through that is humility, the willingness to keep learning, keep showing up, and keep taking hits to your ego without letting it define you.
The Lesson I’d Give Any Player (Or Any Person)
Here’s what paintball has taught me, and it applies way beyond paintball: Your ceiling isn’t talent it’s your willingness to commit when it gets uncomfortable. Anybody can be inspired. Anybody can have a good weekend. But influence is earned in the days you want to quit and you don’t. Consistency builds your name. And sacrifice proves you mean it.
The Quiet Part of Legacy
In 2025 I was honored with a Hormesis Signature Headband, something that hit me differently because Hormesis is built by legends I grew up admiring. And in 2026, I was nominated for a Hall of Icons induction. Those things are meaningful but they’re not the point. The point is what those moments represent: years of showing up, taking risks, being counted on, and never letting the story end early.
Because I didn’t grow up with paintball.
I grew up because of it.
And I’m still not done.
