It’s only March, but I’m feeling that 2012 will be a good year for women’s squash. I’ve posted plenty about the many challenges we face, but things are looking up. Here’s what I see:

1. PEOPLE RECOGNIZE HOW GOOD THE WOMEN ARE: Suzie Pierrepont and Narelle Krizek played in the men’s draw at the 3^rd annual NYAC Invitational.  People started the weekend grumbling about why women were allowed in the men’s draw, but by the end of the weekend everyone was just talking about how darn good Krizek and Pierrepont were after they not only ousted number one seeds Tim Wyant and Julian Illingworth, but made it to the semifinals..
2. MORE WOMEN PLAYING: This weekend the US National Doubles Championships in Rye, New York feature 13 women’s teams in the open, six in the 40s, and 10 in the 50s. This will be the largest showing of women’s doubles teams in recent history. And what’s the buzz? How many 20-somethings are playing in the Open.
3. GROWTH BEYOND THE EAST COAST: I’ve gotten to know Eric Eiteljorg, who grew up playing in Philadelphia (the squash capital of America) but moved his family west to become Executive Director of Mile High Squash in Denver. If a small but tightly-knit squash community like Denver can support Eric, two full-time staff, and a burgeoning urban program, squash can flourish outside of Philly, New York and Boston. The significance of Mile High’s success isn’t limited to the victories of students, but reveals the growth opportunity for squash.  If more people like Eric drive these initiatives, squash may become not only an NCAA sport, but an Olympic one, too.
4. WHAT THE FUTURE MIGHT LOOK LIKE: I spoke with Emily, a high school freshman and one of the students served by Mile High Squash. Emily came to the program as a C student, but has blossomed into an A/B student who wants to play squash in college. What’s so great about that last statement is that Emily now wants to go to college. Squash is bringing her places and changing her outlook. Programs like Mile High give young women like Emily (and young men, too) the opportunity to compete, and learn more about themselves through athletics. They win, but so does squash. Girls like Emily are the future of the game. They cross socioeconomic, racial, religious and gender boundaries. I can’t think of anything more exciting.

With women’s squash growing, not just in numbers, but geographically, I’m ready to believe one day we will see Nicol David and Nick Matthew at the Olympics. If you’d asked me last year, I could not have imagined it. But when I see young people like Emily, a guy like Eric, or Narelle playing against the US singles national champion (and making him run) I suddenly have hope.

What does it mean to be the best? I pondered this recently while studying the lacquered hardwood board at the Greenwich Country Club listing past winners of the North American Open Doubles Tournament. How many winners – spanning more than 50 years – were American? Most. It wasn’t until the last 10-15 years that the names of foreign players appeared on the board.

Does – or should – the nationality of American (or North American) winners matter?

This question is at the center of heated debate right now about one of two key rule changes before the U.S. Doubles Committee (I’m one of 15 members of that committee). One new rule allows professionals to compete on the men’s side (female pros could always compete). The other – more controversial change — would allow only U.S. citizens to compete for the national doubles championship.

I think barring foreign players is a problem – especially for the women’s game.

Yes, doubles squash, unlike softball singles, is a North American game. There are two doubles courts in Scotland. But all other hardball doubles courts are in the U.S. and Canada.

The U.S. Nationals Doubles Championship Committee wants to close the Nationals to anyone who is not a U.S. citizen beginning in 2013. Advocates point out a benefit: this will enable them to use the championships to determine the best American men’s and women’s teams. The rule allowing pros to play in the men’s draw, as well as the women’s draw, will let the same pool of players compete in the US National Doubles Championships as in the US Open Pro Doubles, which will happen in 2013.

The committee has already voted to open up the men’s nationals to professionals. There are, after all, American professional men, like top 10-ranked Preston Quick, who give back to the game and play numerous events. Guys like Preston have been excluded from the US Nationals in the past because of their pro status, but that made little sense to the committee. The thinking: Shouldn’t the best American men be able to play the US Nationals? Sure.

But what about the best players? Do we potentially want two Australian pros, like Damien Mudge and Ben Gould to win a US National title? This question was harder for the committee to answer.

For me, the solution has more to do with our long-range goals. I believe that closing the US Nationals to non-US citizens would be detrimental for doubles – and could even kill the women’s game, which we are trying desperately to grow.

My own player development reflects the problem. I grew up playing squash outside of Philadelphia, often considered the hub of squash in the United States. I had three key coaches between the ages of nine and 14: Wendy Berry (British), Imran Khan (Pakistani) and Dominic Hughes (British). I didn’t have an American coach until I played for Kirk Randall , at Exeter.

Ironically, it is these coaches, who work with juniors day in and day out, for months and years at a time that our governing body, US Squash, works with to promote the game. Historically, the US has not been the birthplace of great squash players. Great players have come from Commonwealth countries. But as the sport’s US profile has grown, in part because kids and parents view it as a gateway to an elite college, players from abroad have come here to coach and train.

When the women’s committee or doubles committee seeks help because women are dropping out of the game after college at alarming rates, who do we turn to for help?

The coaches. These British, Pakistani, Australian, New Zealand and South African players are US Squash’s greatest ambassadors of the game. They not only train athletes, but instill in them a lifelong love of the game. And these pros, especially the female ones, have proven to be invaluable in creating squash communities that keep the game alive once athletes have left college.

Narelle Krizek started the pro women’s doubles tour from nothing—she’s Australian. Suzie Pierrepont coaches the National Championship winning women’s team at Greenwich Academy—she’s British.  We use these women to promote the game. Are we really ready to tell them they can’t play in the premier doubles event in the US?

Pros aside, the proposed rule change will effectively kill the effort to get younger players into the game. Many recent grads from Harvard, Trinity, Princeton and Cornell, who have taken up doubles and are traveling to tournaments will now be denied the right to play and win a US National title. These women are not teaching pros, nor are they US citizens—the best players on our American teams are from other countries.

As a volunteer I’ve been working to get these players onto doubles courts and into tournaments. What message so we send in barring them from Nationals? These women don’t play pro events – they work full time. It seems contradictory to have them play other events – but not this one.

Amid this debate, as a US doubles committee member, I keep thinking about what my mentor, Morris Clothier told me to do: “Grow the game of doubles.” He never said to grow it just for women, or Americans, or young people. He just said to grow it.

Closing one of the most prestigious events on the calendar to non-Americans does the opposite, keeping the pool small,  and keeping talented (and involved) athletes out of contention. The best players should play this tournament, regardless of citizenship, because the best doubles players are the ones who show up to Apawamis at the end of March, have paid their entry fee, and play the game that will get them into the finals, and onto the plaque commemorating excellence.

Nour Bahgat is first female on the Pro Squash Tour

By Sarah Odell

Egyptian squash player Nour Bahgat is doing what women at the top of their game do: Challenge the guys.

Bahgat, who won the 2009 Women’s Collegiate National Championship her freshman year, recently became the first female player to join the Pro Squash Tour.

Two weeks ago, she made her debut at the Bobcat Classic, held at Bates College in Lewiston, ME. Two weeks from now she’ll play at the Boston Open. She came out of the Bobcat Classic ranked at #20 in PST standings with 45 points. (Bahgat lost to Sean Wilkinson of Ireland in the quarter finals, 11-5, 11-4, 11-6.)

Nour, a senior at Trinity College in Hartford, CT, majoring in Environmental Science, shared thoughts in between classes.

FGN: As a college player, did you train with members of Trinity’s men’s team?

NB: I trained with the women’s team during regular team practice and arranged additional training with the men at other times.

FGN: Is there anything different about playing with men?

NB: I’m used to playing with men during practice. The rallies are usually longer and the game is at a higher pace. This is more challenging and helps to improve my game.

FGN: What appealed to you about the Pro Squash Tour? Did you ever think about playing on WISPA (Women’s International Squash Player’s Association)? What made you choose one over the other?

NB: The PST offers a number of tournaments that fit in my schedule. It’s a great opportunity to get some good matches and learn from some great players.  I’m looking forward to playing WISPA when the chance comes.  It’s hard to fit the WISPA tournaments in my school schedule at the moment.

FGN: What are your goals for playing on the PST?

 NB: Learn from this great opportunity of playing against men and have a good challenge.  Working on improving my game is always a goal whether I’m playing against men or women.

When the NCAA decided late in 2010 to cut squash from the emerging sport list, most people didn’t notice the decision, let alone realize the profound impact on the sport moving forward. But this decision is like hitting the serve out at nine-all in the fifth.

Some background: 14 years ago the National Collegiate Athletics Association (NCAA) created an emerging sport list with the goal of having the nine original sports one day become official sponsored NCAA sports. Squash was on that list. Emerging status (only applicable to women’s sports) is bestowed on sports which the NCAA thinks have promise. The status provides for a 10-year window to build teams with the goal of reaching at least 40 college programs, the minimum required to become an official NCAA sport. As an incentive while in emerging status, colleges can count the women who play on those teams toward meeting Title IX requirements.

What’s happened? Of the nine original sports on the list, four have become “championship” sports: rowing, ice hockey, water polo and bowling. In the case of women’s squash, after the 10-year window, the NCAA granted the sport four extra years to reach the critical mass of 40 teams. Right now we’re at about 28. So in 2010, the Committee on Women’s Athletics and the NCAA Division 1 Council decided to drop the sport.

Does NCAA sponsorship really matter? Yes. Here’s why this decision hurts women’s squash:

1) Colleges now have no incentive to add squash as a varsity sport. Before the 2010 decision, colleges could add women’s varsity squash in order to fulfill Title IX requirements. Now there is no incentive – all the more so because the sport is seen as stagnant and incapable of growth.

2) Branding. With squash enthusiasts pushing for inclusion of the sport in the Olympics, one must look at how to brand the sport into being a nationally-recognized powerhouse. The NCAA brings national recognition and visibility to every sport it sponsors. Some may argue that this is in name only, but we cannot discount the importance of NCAA sponsorship and inclusion.

3) Women’s squash is not growing at the same rate as the men. During my time in college (2006-2010), the men’s College Squash Association almost doubled in size to over 60 teams. Most people when they heard about the NCAA’s decision cited this. But the men’s growth, while encouraging, is irrelevant. You need 40 varsity teams on the women’s side. If we can’t get 40 colleges to sponsor women’s varsity squash, how do we expect to get women to fill the draws at the US Nationals, National Doubles and Howe Cup? Also, why are colleges adding men’s programs, and not women’s programs? (At both club and varsity levels). Something is clearly amiss here, and must be addressed.

4) Resources (and the pipeline). One current discussion among the women: Why aren’t more female players becoming coaches or going into the administrative side of squash, at collegiate, interscholastic and national levels? The NCAA holds workshops for college athletes, including specialized ones to encourage women to become coaches and administrators. The problem? Squash athletes are not included in these workshops, because we aren’t an NCAA sport.

5) Limiting geographic and socioeconomic range of squash athletes. With squash as a recognized NCAA sport, colleges like George Washington University added programs. Division I colleges give athletic scholarships. Division III and Ivy League institutions cannot. With more Division I schools like GW adding squash, scholarships can be a tool for bringing in more diverse group of players and broadening support for the sport. Without access to NCAA status – and scholarships – women’s squash will remain an elite, Northeast game even as the men’s game reaches new audiences and players.

By Sarah Odell

Women’s squash is at a crossroads. I have written in this blog about huge strides that we have made with women’s doubles in the last year, but the women’s game as a whole — singles and doubles, professionals and amateurs — is in crisis. Women are being denied the opportunity to play, and women’s squash is in danger of becoming stagnant.

I’m sorry if I sound alarmist (and yes, I believe the problem can be fixed), but it is time that the women of my beloved sport come together and decide to actively press for change.

The number of women’s college teams is dwindling, as Rochester and Johns Hopkins both abolished varsity programs in the last five years. This is a problem as women represent 40% of the US Squash membership until they graduate from college, when they then represent 15%. The NCAA has not seen significant growth in the sport over the last ten years.

As a result, squash was cut from the emerging sports list at the NCAA, effective in August. While I, as a former college athlete, have ambivalent feelings about the NCAA, this is a huge blow to the sport. The NCAA bestows emerging sport status with the hopes that in a few years, it will gain enough support to become a full-fledged NCAA sport. While in the emerging category, universities may count the females engaged in that sport toward meeting Title IX proportionality rules.

While the NCAA’s decision happened with little fanfare, I discovered this week that Brown University is cutting several recruiting spots from men’s and women’s squash. The University is cutting 30 spots from admissions, beginning with the men’s and women’s squash programs, and is considering getting rid of the program altogether (there are plans to eliminate other sports teams, too). Coincidence? I think not.

Trouble in the squash world may be most pronounced at the college level, but the women’s game is struggling at the top, too – although the issues are the same.

There has been a lot written recently about Title IX—in the New York Times, the blogosphere, and, most interestingly to me, in a bunch of emails I was copied on regarding the World Doubles Championships held in Toronto, Canada on May 6-9.

The tournament was supposed to have a men’s draw of 16 teams with a $30,000 purse, and a women’s draw of eight teams with a $10,000 purse. As the tournament approached, a problem arose: there was only $7600 in prize money for the women. While there was back and forth and blame about what had gone wrong, I noticed that Title IX kept popping up in emails as the professional women grappled with whether or not to boycott the event. Two teams did withdraw from the event.

What’s striking to me is that, yes, Title IX is a U.S. law passed in 1972  (so of course female squash pros playing in Toronto did not expect it to shape the World Doubles purse). But calling upon Title IX almost forty years later highlights the frustrating fact that women still face the same old challenge: opportunity. At every level, we are still battling for the chance to play.

Filling women’s draws at national championships, as well as for local squash tournaments is never easy. But doubles can be especially difficult because appropriately-sized courts are hard to find, period, and then sometimes women aren’t even allowed to play on them. In New York City, for example, there are six doubles courts, and women are only permitted to play on four of them.

It all comes back to opportunity. It may look like women aren’t interested in playing squash – until you consider the dearth of access. This spring, after the newly created doubles league ended in New York, some men (yes, men) at the University Club of New York came to me and said that they wanted to start a women’s doubles league in New York. They hoped that by giving us courts and competition at no charge, the league would be successful enough for NY Squash to add it to doubles programming for the fall.

Well, the offer of courts at no charge was too good to pass up. I emailed everyone I knew who was female and played squash in New York. I expected to bring two teams with 10 women total to the University Club. In two days, I brought them four teams and about 25 women. There are roughly 45 women in the league. (Even I was surprised and impressed).

You see, if you give women the opportunity to play, they will come out. But opportunities in squash are beginning to shrink, not grow. We as women, especially in the sport of squash, need to make a decision: either we rally and demand or create opportunity –  or we watch this sport slip away.

Steph Edmison & Alicia McConnell (Black) play Suzie Pierrepont & Narelle Krizak (yellow) in the Turner Cup Tournament last weekend in NYC

By Sarah Odell

I’m not ready to declare this next decade the Era of Women’s Doubles Squash (not yet, at least), but this past weekend was important to the sport’s development.

Not only was the historic Turner Cup – the cornerstone of the WSDA (Women’s Doubles Squash Association) tournament schedule – played in New York City with a record $50,000 purse, but the event was a win for building the base.

As part of the tournament, there was  an under 30 pro-am in which young women were partnered with pros playing in the Turner Cup draw. It was exactly the sort of event that women’s doubles squash needs.

For many former college squash players (like me), doubles is a new concept. Last spring as I was interviewing for jobs in New York, I got an email from Suzie Pierrepont along with a phone call from Narelle Krizek asking me to help the WDSA develop younger players. Doubles? Narelle won the US National Mixed Doubles Championships in Boston, and her match was the first time I had ever seen doubles.

Narelle does crazy things with the ball, like jam it into the crease at the front of the court so that it corkscrews into the opposite corner, spinning off the back wall. She can kill the ball into the front right corner from pretty much anywhere on the court. Narelle is the reason I called an acquaintance and asked her to teach me doubles. (So when Narelle calls, the questions is never if, but when.)

So together we schemed to get an under 30 draw for the tournament. I would get the amateur players, and Narelle would do the draw. She wanted eight; I got 12.  Every player got two or three games, and – most critical – they got inspired.

Amanda Sohby, the only US junior to ever win the World Junior Championships was one of the pros in the U30. I got to play against her. I mean, when else in my life will I ever step on court with Sohby? And I wasn’t the only amateur to be completely pumped about this!

Yesterday at work, emails flooded my inbox from the other U30 women.  If you read my post on Narelle and her sister Natarsha, you know that we’ve been struggling to get women to sign up for events like the National Doubles and the U25. But the emails were so positive—each player told me how much she enjoyed playing with her pro, how much she had learned, and how amped she was to play in another event. Plus all the U30 players were invited to the Friday night Turner Cup party at the University Club. (Socializing and partying in doubles squash is almost as important as the playing.)

By the end of the weekend I had played doubles with Natarsha (Narelle’s gifted sister) and Karen Jerome, who has won more Canadian and US titles than I have fingers.I even played with Narelle. I can’t describe how crazy and awesome it is to play with these women, but my fellow U30 girl Ashley Eyre said it simply: “I had the best weekend ever.”

Natarsha McElhinny and Sarah Odell

What keeps so many women from playing post-collegiate competitive sports?

In squash, it’s a challenge to get young women to travel to Baltimore or Philadelphia or Boston for a tournament. Getting them to commit to a once a week practice? Finding a woman to play with at the club? Not easy. Sometimes I just want to throw in the towel, go to a yoga class, and go home.

Luckily, a very special thing happened to me this fall: I was asked to be the co-captain of the New York women’s Howe Cup team. The Howe Cup is an annual national team tournament, where players join five-woman teams, representing their city. There are four levels of play in singles and a doubles event. It is the premiere women’s squash event of the season.

I’m new to the world of post-collegiate athletics, so I wondered, why don’t we have practices? We did in college, why not now? (The  women’s collegiate championship is also called the Howe Cup)

So we did. And – surprise — the practices have been wildly successful. We have about twenty women gathering each Thursday at the StreetSquash facility in Harlem (including 5-6 young women from StreetSquash) for two hours of intense drilling, instruction and play. And they’re eating it up.

One reason for success is that we have two serious guys (yes, men) who stepped forward to coach the team. We have John Musto, a former Yale no. 1 and the highest ranked male in the 40+ division of US Squash, and David Hughes, who holds masters titles from Canada, and has extensive coaching experience.

They’ve filled a void in the New York Squash community, and I believe, a void in multiple sports communities worldwide—they are competitive players and coaches, and they are giving women the opportunity to be taken seriously as athletes while creating a tight-knit squash community.

Ask John and David about coaching, and they will tell you: If you have a serious player, gender is irrelevant. Competitive players want to win. Give them tools, and success follows.

What I see once a week in Harlem is a group of women—stay-at-home moms, working professionals, teachers—who for two hours are intense athletes. Howe Cup is our Olympics, and John and David are our Herb Brooks and Craig Patrick. (Except Russia will be played by Boston).

Along the way, John, David, and  all of us players have created our own community. John usually brings snacks and drinks, and everyone hangs out after practice. The coaches are the last to leave.

Part of what we loved about playing on our college or national teams, wasn’t necessarily just the competition. I remember long bus rides all over creation, dancing to Lady Gaga in the aisles, congratulating a teammate on besting a personal record or the joy that comes from offering a teammate game-changing advice.

We women need more than just a racquet and ball or a towel and a mat to get a workout that matters. We are running, pulled, busy in our daily lives. This training is about more than technique and sweat. It’s about team. That’s why I come, each week. It’s amazing.

Kelsey Engman (Columbia U. Women's Coach) and David Hughes

Howe Cup Athletes

John Musto and Sarah Odell

I was an odd mix of girly girl and tomboy growing up. I only wore dresses that twirled, and a perfect Friday afternoon left me covered in dirt, running around a field hockey pitch in cleats and shin guards. There were no showers near the fields, so my parents took me out to dinner covered in sweat and grime. Yes, I played with Barbies and flipped through the pages of Vogue, just dreaming of a day when I would wear the outfits in that magazine.

But one little thing separated me from the women I admired and the dolls I played with.

Well, it actually isn’t little. It’s pretty big. That, of course, is my butt. I also have large thighs, which my grandmother referred to as “polkas” when I was an infant. Pants were always a battle—it seemed impossible to find a pair that fit, let alone that appeared flattering. I watched women on the street with their tiny bottoms and carved thighs — and I was envious.

Envious, that is, until I started getting serious about my squash.

Squash, like field hockey, is a glut and quad-heavy sport. And while the great players are lean, they aren’t tiny. They have powerful butts and thick legs. After all, ladies, you can’t lunge with twigs. In an explosive sport like squash, you have to lunge into the shot and out of it. That movement out of the shot is where the real strength lies—you have to fire up your quads and glut to take an explosive step backward to the T. Through college, as I took my training more seriously, particularly leading up to the Maccabiah Games in Israel, I began to revel in my big butt and thick thighs. They’re my core, the place from which my inner strength emanates.

Suddenly, I started paying more attention to professional women athletes. Venus and Serena in tennis, Natalie and Suzie in squash.

All of these women who I admire so very much, are fit and beautiful. And they don’t look like sticks. As a result, they are giving girls and young women like me a new image of female physical beauty. A fake Nike ad — “my butt is big” — stirred plenty of debate recently. The ad may have been a hoax, but the need for a conversation about the female athletic body is real.

The actual female athlete is aggressive and muscular, big and strong. It’s time to get used to it. And guess what I’ve discovered? Oscar de la Renta and Ralph Lauren and Pucci all make dresses…even ones that athletic girls with junk in the trunk can wear.

By Sarah Odell

How appropriate that I happened to be at my parent’s when Sunday’s New York Times Magazine asked on its cover “What Is It About 20-Somethings?” Oh great, I thought to myself, yet another article about why my generation hasn’t lived up to expectations. I picked up the magazine from the ottoman in the living room and found a story that both surprised me and made me think. The theme of “emerging adulthood” struck a chord. Yet while the article aptly described me and many of my friends, one part nagged at me: What was all this stuff about aimless wandering?

Granted, the article didn’t put down the fruits of such wandering, but I couldn’t relate. Sure, my friends and I still involved our parents in our lives, and – yep — they were helping us get on our feet as we landed our first jobs. But aimless? Not at all.

So what makes us so different? My belief: We are athletes.

Since I graduated college in May and moved to New York, I have noticed something about the other 20-something women I meet. The most successful ones, the ones that have nailed down those hard-to-get jobs or are a commanding presence in the office, either are athletes or were athletes in college.

What’s the connection? I believe that what we were taught on the field, court, or pool was how to wander — but with purpose. The 20-somethings in the Times piece bounce from one career to another and are cast as negligent recipients of privilege. They have fancy college degrees, and they’re not doing anything with them. As a young woman just out of college wandering can feel especially difficult because if you can’t find a lucrative career society tells us that the next best thing is to find a lucrative man. We have to affix ourselves to something.

I believe my sports experience has trained me how to play through these times, these years of “emerging adulthood” when – yes — you do feel unsettled.

I can clearly remember the first time I was on a squash court and I realized how to change a loosing game to a winning one. I was playing my college rival, we were at one game a piece, and I was down 9-7 in the third. I knew that if she won that third game, she’d win the match.

I can remember walking up to the glass back of the court, rubbing my hand on it, and coming up with a strategy. I was going to hit long, tight balls into the backhand corner, and when I had trapped her there after a few strokes, I would hit a drop or an attacking boast. With this plan, I won the third game, and eventually, the match.

But what about those first two games, when I didn’t know what to do? I would call that wandering. I was feeling my opponent out, and by the third game, the wandering had suggested a direction.

Because in athletics, there is always a goal (to win), you wander with purpose. These are lessons not necessarily taught in classrooms or workplace internships. Sports allows – and even encourages – you to creatively work through options to get to the desired outcome. Especially for women, who still make less money on the dollar to men, who are underrepresented as CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, learning how to wander with purpose is a powerful tool. The athletes-turned-young-professionals I’ve met in New York prove that those who have played sports…win.

Just a few months ago, it was hard to think of a time when I wouldn’t be going to school — and wouldn’t have a two-hour practice built into my day. But that time has come. I’ve graduated from college, landed my dream job at Harper Collins publishers in New York City, managed to find an apartment, and have even found time during the week to exercise.

As soon as I arrived, I dialed up every squash player I knew in New York City, and have been making the rounds of the clubs, hopping into singles and doubles games from Long Island City to Midtown. But what I didn’t expect: a squash friend asked me to join the board of the MSRA, or Metropolitan Squash  Racquets Association, which runs New York Squash.

After attending the World Conference on Women and Sport in Sydney in May, I knew I had to remain active in squash. I wasn’t becoming a coach, or a teaching professional at a club, so I assumed that meant playing. I would help the women’s game by simply showing up (that’s no small feat as I have discovered in signing up for tournaments in which it was not clear up until the 11^th hour that there would even be a women’s draw).

Showing up is important. But when my friend Emily asked me to join the MSRA board, I heard echoes of Sydney in my ear. Speakers at the conference emphasized the great margins by which women were underrepresented on athletic boards, both at local and national levels. Women do better when other women are involved with leadership. Not only did I have to join — but I needed to play an active role.

I had images of what a board was and I expected lots of older people. In my mind, after all, boards were storied groups with lots of power and big purses. Boards are storied groups, and squash is about the most storied sport out there, but I was wrong on other scores.

The MSRA is, for the most part, comprised of young professionals (ages 22 to 40). After I attended my first meeting I also discovered — revelation — that many of the members were, like me, people who enjoyed the sport through college, and wanted to make sure the opportunity to play and be involved continued long after.

The MSRA runs cool events like the Grand Open, Hyder and Big Apple Opens, in addition to facilitating men’s and women’s singles leagues and a mixed doubles league. I have been tapped to help grow doubles in the city, as well as be active in the women’s squash movement. Sure, I have my work cut out for me, but I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend my spare time.

Need a nudge? Here’s why to join an athletic board:

1. Boards are not just for older people. The best boards remain vital by including young voices.

2. Its a great way to meet people who are involved in a sport you are passionate about. And, yes, participating on a board gives you an instant circle of people to socialize and play your sport with when you move to a new city. Great way to meet people.

3. Think of board membership as public service — but also as a free leadership education course.

4. Contrary to conventional wisdom, board meetings are not boring. They are places for lively discussion, debate, and — yes — even sharp disagreement.

5. A board also gives you an outlet to be active outside of work. It’s important to have something that isn’t part of your working life that provides identity and meaningful engagement. No pay check involved.