I thought it was weird to play one on one in an enclosed white room with a tiny lifeless ball and a tightly strung racket but I discovered that I had an affinity for squash.
The varsity coach gave me my first racket and made me work for every point in my matches against her.
It’s the sound of the ball hitting the wall that I remember the most. It was like those little white fake firecrackers you could get in Brooklyn. We’d drop them on the ground just to hear the ‘POW’ and screech with excitement.
In squash that sound meant the ball was in play. The pathetic thud that occurred when it hit the ground brought great disappointment to the person losing the point.
But as intriguing as squash was to me it could not stir up the passion of a larger racket and bright yellow balls. I decided that squash was how I would warm up for tennis in the spring. Someway, somehow, I had to make the JV tennis team. And I wasn’t going to let the fact that I’d never picked up a racket before the age of 14 deter me.