Squash Magazine: Randall Scott: Flesh Wound

It's Only a Flesh Wound, Lambchop Navigating the doubles ladder from my wheelchair By Randall Scott

I had been anticipating my first doubles tournament for sometime, since I first played several months ago. Since then I had made the trip to Baltimore to play several times. I was getting the hang of it and was feeling more comfortable on the court than my first outing. Finally, my chance. The Maryland State Doubles event approached and my partner, Bob, agreed to jump into the fray with me. For those of you who have not played a doubles tournament yet, there is a puzzling problem, age vs. skill. See, for some weird reason there are no categories below 40. I understand that doubles is, well, played more regularly by the 40+ crowd, but this kind of causes a little rift. Players under the 40ish wall have to play the Open division. The Open division, with players of the OPEN division skill level. These are guys (remarkably in their 40s) who could dust the floor with my butt in softball let alone hardball (which they play religiously). While I am generalizing a bit, I am not too far off when I say, I would be a bit concerned if I was to drop into an Open division with guys who know how to hit the ball against all four walls with terminal velocity and mind-bending geometry. I still have trouble scoring to 15 and getting out of the way of a lob. I was told that players under 40 are generally higher impact players who are both young and skilled. Okay, that means what? I am under 40 and I suck. Where do I fit in? Some tournaments, like this one, have skill level (ABCD) events. But, there is a wide margin in those letters. My partner was considered an A player; I have played three times and was told I would be playing Bs. They factored in Bob's level and divided us in half to get a B team. I was good on that logic, and it was going to work well for us as we work pretty good together on court. Still, if I were to play nationals (which of course I would want to) there are no skill levels—just Open or A, and everything from 40+ to the century mark (No offense to the older dudes. I would be so lucky to be able to play at 80 years old. Hell, I would be lucky to be able to stand at 80.). Since I am an under 40 kind of guy, am I gonna get the long, empty elevator shaft to the Open division (the equivalent of my playing the SL Green)? This of course runs into the fact that I would not fare much better in the 40s with the kind of blood that runs through that division. Still, I and my partner would like to have at least a fighting chance and not have to spend some $600 to lose the first round of consolations and drown our sorrows at another Saturday night squash dinner. I wonder if the USSRA might create a PL division (potential loser) for people of my ilk? Anyone know the answer to this one, or maybe a USSRA suggestion? Did I get off the subject of my headline again? So, I am about ready to go on court for my first doubles tournament B match. I had spent the previous night (the whole night) yacking my guts out from a sudden and vicious stomach flu that my little daughter passed along. Four pounds lighter and going on an empty stomach, I was not feeling so chipper. And to add to that, I had reinjured my month-old, squash-injured knee. Bob, ever happy Bob, had these great little pills in his bag that really made me feel better (Tylenol or something...). I was ready, relatively, to kick some doubles butt. We are out on court, we are playing strong, I am remembering what the hell I need to do, when it happened. I went for a drop shot, turned right, and wham directly into the front wall I go, clinching my knee which was solidly locked up and was not going anywhere. First game, first tournament and down I go. There was no mistaking what I did. It was confirmed (at least not in an official—possible malpractice—kind of way way) by one of the guys we were playing who is an orthopedic doctor (funny how there is always a doctor around a squash court). First class meniscus tear. Can't begin to tell ya how much this thing hurt. Almost as much as 'first game—first tournament' default. Three days later Dr. Steve, my orthopedic surgeon, and my squash teammate at Potomac (who happened to be there at the onset of the first sign of a meniscus tear a month earlier—when I declared it a minor flesh wound) sent me to get an MRI and confirmed a nice possible bucket tear. He seemed very enthusiastic about getting to go at me with a sharp instrument. Guess I should let him write my next article to be entitled, I got to go at Smarmy Randall with a blade! with a subheader, He cried like a sissy-boy. As I write this I am three days away from going under the knife and being declared a couch potato for the next four weeks. This means my rehab will be about two months long and I will miss just about every major doubles and singles nationals warm-up event this great country has to offer. Oh well. Am I concerned at knee surgery? Hell no. I know Dr. Steve. As long as he don't do three martinis at lunch (I am ribbing him here!), we will be on the same page. What can you do—we are athletes. Injury and pain comes with the tour package. I can take it. Good news is I am going to take a couple months off from this little column to rest my ailing knee. That is unless you all want me to finally do that article on my squash bag. A rest for me, and you!

It's Only a Flesh Wound, Lambchop

Navigating the doubles ladder from my wheelchair