The list of names posted on the wall at the Skate Zone was Jean Shea's first indication that her dodgeball team was not like the others.
One by one, she read the other teams' attempts at anatomical-parts puns (think anything involving the word balls). A peek into the gym confirmed it: Her team, the G-rated "Ball Dawgs," was poised to be annihilated - by a bunch of teenagers.
Of the 24 teams that signed up for the spring competitive dodgeball session in Voorhees, only Shea's group - now affectionately dubbed by others in the Glory Days Sports league as "Team AARP" - has players older than 40.
As expected, the Ball Dawgs were pummeled that first day. But three months into the season, the team of Haddonfield husbands and wives - the oldest player is 55 - has stuck with it, earning some grudging admiration from their younger opponents as well as a respectable eighth-place standing in the weekly league.
While the Ball Dawgs' competition might look forward to going head-to-head with a team their parents' age, not everyone thought dodgeball for geezers was such a good idea.
"My 18-year-old daughter was totally embarrassed that her parents were out there playing dodgeball against a bunch of kids her age," said Reg Blaber, 47. "We really had to work hard out there to earn her respect."
It's a respect that comes at the price of sore muscles, bruised egos, and one broken pinkie, which belongs to Beth Pease, a fourth-grade teacher in Cherry Hill. Most of Pease's coworkers assumed she suffered the injury during a school gym-class drill, not believing it came from playing a competitive sport - let alone dodgeball.
When they first heard about it, said Pease, 52, "they thought it was so hilarious . . . but now people my age are asking me when the next sign-up is."
That's not to say it hasn't been a steep learning curve for the Ball Dawgs, who formed from six couples as a kind of New Year's Eve joke after Shea shared with her friends a newspaper story about another dodgeball team. They follow rules defined by the National Amateur Dodgeball Association, which Pease describes as "extensive." Apparently, competitive dodgeball includes a lot more than just dodging and catching.
"It took a while to figure it out," said Blaber, a marathon runner. "You think there's nothing to it, but there's actually a lot of strategy in knowing when to attack and counterattack, who to hide behind, and how to use your teammates to your best advantage. It took us a while to coordinate our attacks effectively - and after the first night, we practically hobbled out of there."
If the Dawgs are lacking in speed and agility, they make up for it with other skills. Their team comprises a cardiologist, an investment manager for Morgan Stanley, an insurance salesman, an architect, several teachers, and other business types. They bring an ability to strategize and troubleshoot that helps offset their college-age opponents' physical advantage - and they also bring a strong competitive streak.
"The Ball Dawgs' biggest secret weapon is their age," said Matt DeNafo, 27, cofounder of Glory Days Sports. "A lot of the teams underestimate them and go into games thinking it's going to be an easy win, when in fact they are a very good team with some strong players."
Ever since the Ball Dawgs came to play, Glory Days, a 14-month-old league, has been attracting a few more middle-agers who take part in the low-impact sports, according to DeNafo, although the majority of participants are between the ages of 18 and 35. The Ball Dawgs have since learned of a few recreational leagues that cater solely to more mature players, including an over-40 dodgeball league that plays in a Voorhees church basement. But once the team had a taste of the competition, they decided the thrill of picking off the younger crowd was much more their style.
They also like the coed aspect. The rules clearly state a man-woman ratio that's required on the court at all times. For the Ball Dawgs, this means husbands and wives are frequently working together to be the last team on the court.
"For the women, a significant part of the strategy involves crouching down behind the men while they do the majority of the throwing," said Shea. "The first few games were absolutely terrifying, but once you learn to get over that then you can concentrate on catching the other team out."
One of the biggest challenges facing several Ball Dawg-ers has been learning how to take unexpected successes in stride.
"My wife is very competitive and when she gets someone out, she celebrates," said Blaber. "The funny part is that she high-fives people in the center of the court and then gets pummeled right in the middle of celebrating."
As it turns out, while the "elders" have earned the respect of the other players, the Ball Dawgs don't get any pity on the court. They face the same trash-talking, the same merciless pursuit of the last woman standing. And no one cared about the Ball Dawgs' initial muscle soreness after returning to a sport most hadn't played in 40 years (although Blaber reports they no longer suffer from any excessive dodgeball-related stiffness).
The team does have one trick up their sleeve - Pease's 14-year-old son, Luke, who acts as fan, ball gatherer, and sometime target for pregame warm-up. He's also their coach. Coming directly from the trenches of junior-high gym class locker rooms, Luke shouts advice from the sidelines, gives back the trash talk to other teams, and records videos for postseason playback.
"They've gotten a lot better since the beginning when they were losing all of the time," Luke said. "That was really embarrassing. But now that they're actually using the strategies we use in gym class, it's really starting to work for them.
"And I guess the fact that my parents are playing dodgeball is actually pretty cool."