Squash Magazine

A Long Journey By Will Carlin

I am flying back from Colorado Springs where I attended my final Olympic Committee meeting as squash’s athlete representative to the USOC. As we speed over and through the clouds, I look out the window and see the cornfields far below us, and I find myself thinking about an early morning 25 years ago. I was a junior at Deerfield Academy, and it was very cold when my alarm started buzzing. I hit it and started an internal debate that would be waged nearly every morning for the next decade. I didn’t need to look at the glowing red numbers of the digital alarm clock; the numbers 4:45 burned behind my eyelids, and the practical part of me started talking…the bed was deliciously warm and my nose was cold, and probably the best thing to do—the healthy thing to do—was to stay warm for as long as possible and get another couple of hours of sleep. But beside my bed was a photocopied photo of another student that I felt once had maligned my squash abilities. I turned and looked at the picture and the blurry words on top of him. Though the room was too dark for me to be able to read them, I knew what I had painstakingly stenciled in black magic marker: “Remember the feeling.” And so I got up. Ten minutes later, I was out on the road heading to the cornfields of the farms that surrounded the school. The air smelled strongly of fertilizer, and though I never relished the pungent odor, it had become as familiar as the now-forgotten feel of a broken-in leather grip. I ran hard that morning, as I did on most mornings, because I found something comforting about the pain of burning lungs and legs. If I could stand it, I thought, I could deal with it in a match, and maybe that would give me an edge. That 16-year-old kid who was not yet even number one on his high school team already was beginning to fantasize about things like National championships while worrying about his next challenge match on the school ladder. And there—all alone in the cornfields of Deerfield—did the road begin. It is a similar road for all athletes who go on to play at an elite level, and I am thankful that I started on a path that led to playing pro tournaments on every continent on the planet, to squash’s Executive Committee and, eventually, to the Executive Committee of the US Olympic Committee. What is interesting for athletes in solo sports is that competing is all about the individual, but for the sport to run successfully, it takes a team approach. And being a team member requires a maturity that is a stretch for someone who has been focused enough on themselves to win at the highest level. At least it was for me. When I first joined the Executive Committee of the USSRA nearly 12 years ago, I was headstrong, and I often felt that if I could just do [fill in the blank here] by myself, it would be better than the work done as a Committee. The reality of a well-performing Executive Committee, however, is that they work together—often for nothing more than satisfaction, for they almost never get the credit they deserve for shepherding the game and the association through times of stress and change. During my tenure on the EC, there were amazingly selfless and dedicated members, and it is worth pointing out some of the chief accomplishments of each administration. Alan Fox led the EC through the early stages of the transition from hardball to softball—a time that could have split apart the association, but because he was able to straddle both lines, the association came out of it as strong as ever. Andre Naniche brought a smooth professionalism to the EC and became so well regarded with the international squash community that he almost stole a vice president spot on the WSF from out of nowhere. Taylor Quick not only raised two amazingly gifted squash players (Preston and Meredeth) but also led the association on some of its first interactions with the USOC and its planning teams. Eben Hardie, who also is a phenomenal golfer and tennis player, brought some of the best of those sports to the EC, and he was the driving force behind the rating system, the resurgence of the team championships and league play around the country. Kevin Jernigan used his strong interpersonal skills to deal with some of the more stressful times of the association, including budgetary nightmares coming out of 9/11, lawsuits that cost the association incredible time and money, and the resignation of longtime Executive Director Craig Brand. And current President Ken Stillman, who wanted nothing more than to grow the game and share the goodwill that the game has given him, instead has dealt with the redefinition of the Executive Director to a CEO, more budget confusion, and not one, but two changes in leadership. Each of these administrations had somewhere between eight and 15 other people on the Executive Committee, and that means that over the last 12 years almost 70 different people have worked thanklessly for the good of all of us. As my time on both the USOC and the USSRA comes to a close, let me take the opportunity to thank each of them for their support of squash, for their leadership, and for their teamwork. I also want to thank those who put up with me in my early years on the EC; instead of isolating me out, you gently showed me how the work of a group often is superior to the work of an individual. And because of that, you allowed the run of a lonely kid through cold early morning cornfields to end in the arms of teammates, and I appreciate that more than you ever will know.