Lessons from the Squash Court

By Judy Liu (Grade 6)

Ever since I was five, I have been playing squash. At first it was no different from any other activity, a fun pastime that meant strawberry ice cream after each session. Then, we started traveling for tournaments, going to places like California and New York regularly. As the competition grew tougher, the ways that squash had pushed me to grow as a person became more and more evident. What I learned on a squash court applied not only to squash but also to my life off the court. 

Squash taught me to face my problems and fears head on. In squash, as in all other sports, there's no backing out of a match. I’ve learned that all I can do is to remind myself why I’m playing and try my best. Learning to deal with my problems and conquer my fears has benefited me very much at school, at home, and even at hospitals. 

For example, I used to be that kid who sobbed hysterically during doctor appointments, that is, while getting shots. I would kick, scream, and wriggle out of the way of any needles. An appointment meant a constant cycle of doctors and nurses, fruitlessly trying to inject a vaccine into my arm safely. The annual medical visit was the stuff of my nightmares. I was terrified that the needle would get stuck in my arm and never come out – yes I know it's a totally rational fear.  

However, when I started to play squash at a higher level, confronting problems was something I did on a daily basis. I used to have this gigantic swing – “a broken wrist,” as my coach called it. It wasn’t a problem back then, everyone had one. We were all eight year olds trying to generate enough power to hit the ball. Then, it seemed like all of a sudden, everyone else developed new swings, proportionate and controlled ones. In the next tournament I played, this became a real problem when I hit someone square in the jaw with my racket. The player I hit was crying, but I was crying even harder. Even after her mom assured me she was just fine, I wanted to quit squash and forget about everything. Just stop going to the practices and tournaments so I couldn’t injure anyone else. 

My coach gave me the best advice of my life when he told me “You can’t just make your problems go away; you need to work hard and change your swing.  There's no other way.” I took his words to heart, and worked to correct my swing. It wasn’t easy. We worked together every day of the week for around 3 months. There was no secret in what we did; it was just hours and hours of practice. There was one drill I especially hated, where I had a squash ball tucked underneath my shoulder.  It forced me to make my swing smaller, or the ball would drop and I would have to do it all over again. I also made myself change my mindset. Before, I wasn’t willing to correct my swing because I was afraid that I wouldn’t play as well in matches and tournaments.  But now, I had nothing to lose. I wasn’t afraid to play badly in order to get better.  It turned out that conquering the fear of short term losses helped me gain techniques that helped in the long run. 

During the doctor appointment after I corrected my swing, all the staff of Massachusetts General Hospital received the shock of a lifetime when I didn’t raise a fuss over the shots.  They still look at me oddly to this day.  For all that and much more, I have squash to thank.