Epic Failure at Norwegian Cruise Lines!

Sad to point out, everyone, but Norwegian Cruise Lines' boat, the Epic, has turned its once perfectly nice squash court into a storage bin for a bunch of fitness crap:

The Epic has succumbed to the all-too-frequent madness that fitness clubs fall prey to, and that's thinking that the more people they can stuff into a particular space the better off everyone is. There are a lot of reasons why this isn't true for fitness clubs -- here's one: squash members are a LOT more loyal to their squash club and will remain members for years if not decades, as opposed to flighty fitness seekers -- but some of these reasons should also hold true for a Cruise ship. If I were trying to design a top-notch cruising experience I would want to have in place some unusual treats for the cruising public, not what they have done here: provide bouncy balls you can get in your own home or the dirty smelly fitness club down the block. What is so special about this picture? Nothing! Remove all the crud and put two squash players in there -- now that's special. 

Therefore, those of you who are interested in cruise ships -- I am not one of them -- you may no longer ride the Norwegian Cruise Line until they fix this mess. Let's hope they do it right away. 

Also, just a note: I had provided two chapters to the Club From Hell, the world's greatest collaborative squash novel. That novel ended up being quite a good read, and it has just published its final chapter on Daily SquashReport.com. You can read the whole sordid tale right here.

"Very unsatisfactory. Terribly disappointing. Hugely frustrating."

James Willstrop, #1 in the world, did not behave like a champ by forfeiting the remainder of the match in his final against Ramy Ashour in the El Gouna International Squash Open. He is quoted on SquashSite as saying, as the title of this blog indicates, that his experience in the final was unsatisfactory, disappointing and frustrating. The reason was the court was slippery. 

Well, it was slippery for Ramy too, but he played on to the best of his ability, and guess what, Ramy was about to win. Ramy had won the first two games and was up 5-2 when Willstrop shook Ramy's hand and walked off the court. 

Willstrop managed to deny Ramy a natural victory by wimping out and blaming the conditions. The conditions may have been suspect, but this is a FINAL man! People are paying good money to see you play. If you are going to lose because the conditions don't suit you then buck up and play anyway, that's what champions do, they continue on unless they can't possibly continue, not because they are worried about getting turf toe from slipping on the court surface! 

Willstrop's experience was unsatisfactory, disappointing and frustrating, but not quite in the way he meant in the quote.

Squashing Down in the Deep South

I've been quiet on this blog lately because I've been working pretty damn hard and, when available, squashing pretty damn hard. Not a ton of time available beyond those two polar opposites, the dual lodestars of my existence. 

However, I recently got back from 5 days in the deep south where, among other things, I was able to play squash. Imagine that. 

I visited Sewanee, Tenn, not far from the Alabama border, where The University of The South is headquartered.  My in-laws are happily retired from teaching at the school and have stayed in the community. The college itself is well regarded, ranking #33 on US News' lists of National Liberal Arts Colleges. It's also relatively moderate in price: tuition and other fees total $32,292. In addition to the college there is also a well-regarded school of theology, which follows the Episcopalian tradition.

I viewed this visit as a wonderful opportunity to do some serious working out every day in their well-appointed gym and then to get on the school's one squash court and do some solo practice. 


I had been on this court before and so came prepared with my squash kit. Last time I visited I had pestered my in-laws to get me a game, so they asked around and gave me the name of a professor, purported to be the best squash player on campus. I was so wound up and ready to play, however, the poor man never had a chance. This time around I thought my time would be better spent with solo work, so that's what I did. Each day went like this: 45 minutes or so working out on the weights and exercise machines and another 45 minutes on the court practicing shots, working on my backhand, and going over footwork. It was great to take the time to do all that, particularly when it is so rare to find such time in my normal life. 


The court itself is interesting. It was clearly installed by a racquetball installer, which I say because of two quirks. First, racquetball courts often have a little plexiglass compartment located in one of the back corners in which one can put keys, valuables, wallet, etc. They are never found on squash courts, however, because the back corners are way too important to put anything other than smooth wall there. But lo and behold, this court has such a compartment. Another quirk is the floor, which like many racquetball courts is oddly shellacked, making the surface slipperier than a standard squash court.

Despite the funkiness of the court, The University of the South has managed to field a squash team for College Squash Association competition, and ranked #51 last year; among club teams, it ranked #21 (of a total 32).

I was working out and playing squash right in the middle of the school day, so wasn't surprised that I didn't see any other squash players hanging around. However, on my last day, after I had finished my session and emerged from the men's locker room on the way home, I saw a female student, who couldn't have been more than about 5' tall, walking quickly towards the court with a racket that seemed about half her height. She had a big smile on her face. 

I know that look. She's got the addiction....   

Chelsea Piers Gets Something To Boast About

I have to confess I've long cast a malignant eye over to Chelsea Piers on New York's West side. Chelsea Piers is a huge mega-monster sports center which houses just about every sport you can dream up, including basketball, boxing, cycling, rock climbing, fitness centers, track, hockey, a golf driving range, even sand volleyball -- but no squash. I could never figure out how they could be so myopic not to see that squash should be part of their huge urban sports complex. I once went there for a corporate event and asked a guy working there, "Where are the squash courts kept?" I got a befuddled look....

But it turns out that someone over at Chelsea Piers was paying attention. Squash in the US is a growing phenomenon, and a huge sports emporium like Chelsea Piers must include squash on its menu. And now they will. 

Not in New York City, at least not yet....

But Chelsea Piers is building another sports megalopolis in Stamford, Connecticut, scheduled to open next summer. And true to their formula, they are building a whopper: 400,000 square feet of sports facility housed in 7 separate sports arenas covering 18 sports that will doubtless dominate the sports-seeking public in the area. Included are daycare, restaurants, and pro shops. (I could easily live there: I'm wondering if they need an official resident?)

They will have their usual mix of athletic pursuits, but this time they are adding 11 singles and 1 doubles squash courts. That's a pretty dozen. And to top it off, they have hired former world #1 Natalie Grainger as their squash director. Natalie has been both a fantastic player and tireless proponent of the sport for many years, highlighted by her 8 years as head of WISPA, and her presence seals the deal for me.....

I forgive you for your transgressions in New York City.

Welcome to Stamford, Chelsea.

(Here's the floor plan of just one mega-floor: Can you spot the squash courts?)

People Are Crazy All Over, Alas

This week we learned the terrible news that people are crazy all over, alas. The carnage in Norway is still hard to believe, but there it is, pictures of bombed out windows and shocked, crying children, and sensible people can only shake their heads in disbelief. 

One of the understandable thoughts that kept coming up by numerous commentators was disbelief that that could happen in a place like Norway. We are used to carnage in the United States, because we have absolutely inane gun-control laws that allow pistols of all types, automatic or not, which can be concealed or slung on your hip like a desperado from the wild west. Since our country is so stupid about gun control it is no wonder that from time to time someone goes nuts and blasts a few innocent people in anger. In fact, it happened just when we were hearing about the atrocities in Norway: some well-armed nutjob killed 6 people at a roller rink down south. In this country, that's not terribly unusual or even all that interesting. The story came and went in a day. 

Norway has more stingent gun control laws but, apparently, even there they can fall into the wrong hands. People are crazy, alas. 

People are nuts in Washington, DC, too. In fact, in their case, it might be better if they WERE all armed. It would get messy quick, but then some sensible people might come in after the gunfire and clean the place up. While the world awaits a resolution to the debt-ceiling debacle, the politicians there are still intent on playing their games. Real leadership seems to be as rare as gun control legislation in that town. 

And I too am nuts, i'm afraid. 

Or at least I was last week. I played two matches last week in the midst of boiling temperatures in New York City. When you walked outside your office building you were hit by a wall of 100-degree heat and monstrous humidity. In this record-breaking heatwave I kept my appointments to play these matches, but I had a feeling I was in trouble when I walked on the court. It didn't seem to be much cooler than the outside temperature. Certainly, within about 5 minutes, the court's air temperature was in the 90s and the ball was hopping around like one of those dense rubber super-balls. 

I got hot, and quickly. I think I developed the world's first case of squash-induced thermocephalia. My brain got mushy, my thought processes -- always with me a dicey notion -- degenerated into what I can only describe as a gloppy bowl of mashed potatoes. I did stupid things, crazy things. I lost both matches, and the proof of my pathetic physical condition was the fact that I really didn't care. I was happy to be alive.

I am desperately sorry about the events in Norway, I'm getting more and more angry about the events in Washington, and I'm looking forward to a better outing on the squash court this week. The latter is insubstantial compared to the first two items, I know. I'm not that crazy....

Primum Non Nocere

One of the principal guiding rules of the medical profession is summarized in the Latin phrase above, which means "First, do no harm."

Hanging on the walls or glass doors of most squash clubs all over the world is the phrase, "Non-Marking Soles Only," a warning that not all sneakers are fit to play on a squash court. Every now and then some knucklehead will go onto a court, oblivious, and try out the game, leaving behind a bunch of burnt rubber streak marks that take time and money to remove.

Would it be excessive if I were to say these people should be shot? Maybe trampled upon by a thousand well-trod squashists fed up with such behavior? Perhaps just slapped around a bit?

As I panted outside a squash court recently following a match, I looked up and there was the sign. But in my delirium I thought it said "Non-Marking Souls Only."

That would be nice.... Non-marking souls non nocere.