The thing I find most difficult to master about squash, apart from actually winning, is
concentration.
Where was I? Oh yes, concentration.
The top professionals swear by it, which is why they glide through British Opens while
I am getting walloped in the first round of the Mixed Handicap at Luton.
Good players really work at concentration. They furrow their brows and focus their grey
matter on the immediate problem facing them, which is rarely some peripheral concern such
as whether the showers will be hot or what chances the chances are of making acquaintance
of the cleavage hanging over the gallery rail, but returning the ball which is
disappearing out of reach into the backhand corner.
They do, in fact, spend a large part of their lives thinking of nothing but a tiny
black ball to the exclusion of weightier topics such as the population explosion, the
effect of Robert Schummann's piano concertos on 20th century music or whether beer will go
up yet again and turn us all into teetotallers.
In a world so full of opportunities for fit young men, isn't that a silly thing to do?
It seems to me that life is a trifle short to spend more time than absolutely necessary
contemplating a lump of rubber which costs >>>25p<<<, is likely to burst at any moment and has an unpleasant tendency to clout its owner behind the knee just when he least expects it.
"But That," says
British Open Champion Qamar Zaman, "is the only way to win."
Right, chaps! Got the message? From now on, we concentrate on CONCENTRATION. As an aid
to our new approach I have been studying some of the more common mannerisms practised by
grass roots players. I will list them, so you can avoid them at all costs.
THE OVER-CONFIDENT SERVER
This is a fatal technique for anyone who seriously intends to win. The player picks up the
ball and walks to the service box, frequently making a quip or two as he does so. As his
foot enters the box he casually swings his racket at the ball, with no idea of where he
intends it to finish up, and sets the new rally in progress. The serve is usually
accompanied by a reference to the fact that his opponent will never return the ball -- not
that this matters very much because five times out of ten the ball sails happily out of
court.
THE OVER-CONFIDENT RECEIVER
He prides himself in being able to kill any service dead and his constant failure does
nothing to dull his optimism. A favourite ploy is to look up at the gallery before the
rally starts and treat anyone watching to a touch of the raised eyebrows and patronising
smile. I have already mentioned that the service only has a 50% chance of going in. If it
does, the over-confident receiver probably has a 50% chance of getting it back. Rallies
between two such players tend to be on the short side.
THE MASOCHIST
There are an awful lot of these about at the moment and most of them are on the losing
side. The masochist blames himself for every mistake made on court -- his own, his
opponent's, even errors of discretion committed in the gallery. When he's not blaming
himself he is slapping the wall, hitting his legs with the racket handle, punching the
bridge of his nose or kicking the tin. Any concentration he has is channelled into making
life as uncomfortable for himself as possible.
THE SYCOPHANT
Most easily identified by his recurrent cry of: "My fault, your point, too good for
me." When the point is clearly his because the other player has charged into him,
handled the ball AND talked in the middle of a rally, he will plead for a let to be
played. When he can't persuade his opponent to take the point he often resorts to remarks
such as, "You're so good I just can't get a look in. I should give you a walk
over." His concentration is devoted entirely to the other man's welfare. Occasionally
he wins and is depressed for weeks, hardly knowing where to show his face.
THE CUSSER
He wants to win but is heavily handicapped by the fact that most of his energies are
expended on cursing the side-walls, front-walls, tin, door, gallery, spectators, racket,
ball, jock strap ... anything that appears to be an excuse for his mediocre play. He is
unable to concentrate on the game at all. Often he will swear at the ball before it has
reached him. Many cussers have just finished a hard day at the office and feel much better
after they have sworn their way through a game.
THE DREAMER
I fall into this category, I'm afraid. It is a very pleasant category but it rarely
produces winners. The dreamer hypnotises himself into a neutral state in which he allows a
multitude of lovely thoughts to float through his mind. In advanced cases, dreamers have
been known to congratulate their opponent on the match when he has merely won the first
game. I once failed to notice the ball had burst because I was thinking about the Times
crossword. Dreamers don't lose concentration. They never have it.
SPITFIRES
The essence of the spitfire's game is speed. He never stops running, particularly between
points. If the ball has rolled to the front of the court he will sprint to pick it up,
even if he is not serving. Hurried, nervous, frenetic ... the spitfire does not give
himself enough time to think.
THE COCKY
He pretends it's all so easy. He doesn't go off court between games to towel down because
he wants to show he's not tired. The worst case I ever encountered was a fellow who
brought a bag of apples on court with him. To show how easy it all was he muched one
between games. I beat him 3-0, the cocky devil. I was dreaming about winning at the time.
