The Squashist Is Not Dead -- It Just Seems That Way

I had to laugh a while ago when a blogger bemoaned the death of the Pro Squash Tour on the Daily Squash Report's website. I thought, that's funny, I don't think Joe McManus would let the PST quietly curl up and die, not at least without a little sturm und drang before kicking it.

So I wasn't surprised to read that the PST is not in fact dead, and of course the Squashist ain't dead yet either.

The PST's often-entertaining e-zine, which also seems to be the best place to get juicy squash gossip, ran a little piece yesterday about my last blog and commenting upon my evident demise, a sorry state of affairs caused by a bum knee that forced me to hang up my squash togs and throw away my racket forever. At the end of last year I announced that I had had enough, time to move on, thank you very much, and goodbye. 

I got a few emails expressing disappointment, urging me onwards or offering sympathies. I'm happy that PST took the time to notice my "passing."

A funny thing happened though.... 

I continued rehabbing at my club, which is the Princeton Club of NYC. You can't enter the gym area without looking down into the two squash courts, and because of that proximity squash kept beckoning to me, come hither it said. The lure was not the sweet singing of the sirens but the plonk-plonk-plonking of the squash ball and the occasional agonized screams of the players -- all music to my ears. As I made my way to the gym to rehab, trying fruitlessly to avoid the magnet of squash, I grimly recalled a great poem about New York City by John Reed, whose words might well apply to me and the great sport of squash:  

Who that has known thee but shall burn

In exile till he come again

To do thy bitter will, O stern

Moon of the tides of men!

I'd climb up on the bike for another 20-minute rehab session, ever hearing the alluring noises from the courts below, mocking my decision to give up the game, and the nub of doubt would eat away at my soul....

Within ten days I was back on court. 

Adjustments were necessary. I've had to accept a lower level of play. I've had to time things such that I need 15-20 minutes of warming up the knee before I get on the court for the knock-up. I've had to realize that on some days the old knee just doesn't want to run that much, and if I'm caught off guard and my opponent does a sudden dropshot that I didn't anticipate, there is no way in hell I'm going to try to run that ball down. My movement on the court looks a lot like a guy dragging a dead appendage behind him. John Musto, the pro there, has stared at my movement with a look that can best be described as somewhere between pitying and shocked. ("Oh mio dio," he has mumbled.)

So there have been compromises, but I am indeed playing the game and I am indeed having fun doing it. (I'm also playing a bit of tennis on har-tru or clay courts, which are easier on the knees.) 

So the Squashist is back, thank you very much. Still playing, and always anxious for a game. It's an addiction, and I need my fix. Indeed, at the end of May I will take my game to international shores, as I am going to visit Stockholm on business where I hope to play a little socialist squash. I hear the balls there are red....

Best Club in NYC? Quite Possibly.... Check out CityView

I just joined the Cityview Racquet Club, a relatively new club which boasts 7 Har-Tru clay tennis courts, 3 singles squash courts, and 1 doubles squash court. Not too long ago the venerable Printing House squash courts were torn to smithereens by uninformed jackanapes who double as executives at a fitness club chain. Long may they burn in hell.....

But I digress.

A goodly chunk of the Printing House players eventually gravitated over to the CityView club. As for me, I was looking for a club. I met one of the immigrants, who told me about it. I grew curious. I signed up. 

There is lots that is great about CityView. They have an active tennis program, which helps fund their nascent squash program. (There is a locker with an "A Roddick" nameplate, you dig?) The pro also happens to be John Musto, not only a great player but, more important, a very good pro. (There are a lot of clubs out there that have great players as their pros but many fewer clubs with great pros who are good  players.) The touring pro, by the way, is the stylish Egyptian Wael el-Hindi, currently ranked #13 in the world.

The club is artfully designed, really a beautiful club. It is also one of those clubs that knows how to have fun, with kids whose squash rackets are half their size running around excitedly swinging away, even before they get on court. I've been to plenty of clubs where the stiff-upper-lip attitude would never countenance a gang of young ruffians wreaking havoc. And that is much to their discredit.

The club also has an absolutely gorgeous lounge with a mesmerizing freestanding fireplace and great bar. You can hang out there and have a great time when the squash is over. And, during the summer, you can head on out to the huge balcony where, you guessed it, there is a great view of the City.

That's right, the view is so great of Manhattan because this terrific club is not in Manhattan, which is why it remains a bit undiscovered. It is actually only a few stops on the #7 subway line into Queens. I timed it; it's less than 10 minutes to travel from Grand Central Station to the CityView stop.

I just played a 4.5 squash tournament there and did well, considering my balky knees had to play 3 full and difficult matches in one day. The toughest match was the first, in which my opponent and I played one another to near exhaustion, but after about 70 minutes I finally won the match in 5. I was extremely lucky; my opponent had already played his first match so his energy finally ran out in the fifth. My next match was just an hour away and I felt thoroughly depleted, so went down ignominiously 0-3. My opponent later noted that I was tied with him in each game to about 6-all, when suddenly I started going for the cheap shot, which of course didn't work. I then had a 3-hour wait till my next match, which allowed me to rest up, and I won that contest by 3-0. Not bad, I thought, as I limped homeward.

Check out this club if you are in the New York area; it's damn good.