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.

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.

The Tippett Sisters: Narelle and Natarsha

By Sarah Odell

This weekend, the Under 25 Doubles Championship takes place in Greenwich, Connecticut. Just yesterday I learned that there may not be enough women to make a draw. I have seen first hand the trend that US Squash is worried about: the rapid rate at which we are losing female players.

This week, I connected with two terrific women who happen to be amazing squash players. Former WISPA (Women’s International Squash Association) players turned teaching pros and turned moms. And yes, girls, they still play squash. Take note. Be inspired. Narelle Tippett Krizek and Natarsha Tippett McElhinny are here to prod you to pick up the sport they love.

FGN: You both are amazing squash players. How did you get started?

Narelle Tippett Krizek: Mum and Dad ran a squash club and we were little rats, hanging on the courts whenever possible.  Due to us being 16 months apart we were perfect play mates and always had someone to hit with.  We also played field hockey together on junior teams and representative teams.  Tarsh was a forward and I was her center half.

Natarsha Tippett McElhinny: First I have to say that when we played field hockey, Narelle used to pass me the ball, because she was my center half. I would then score. Now when we play doubles, it’s the other way around! Our dad was our first coach. He got us started and then we went off to the Australian Institute of Sports, and were working with the best professional coaches in the world.

FGN: You both were on the WISPA tour. How long did you play on the tour? Why did you retire?

NTK: I was on the tour as soon as I graduated high school.  I was on it for 5 years, reaching my highest ranking of 23 in the world.  I knew that it was a stretch to achieve top 3 and wanted to make some money so I wasn’t needing my dad’s support for my whole life.  So I took Tarsh’s teaching position in Philadelphia at Merion Cricket Club.  Playing on the tour was such a fantastic experience though, traveling around the world with my sister and friends, meeting so many different people from different countries.  It opened my eyes to a whole different way of life from Australia.

NTM:I played on the tour for three or four years, reaching my highest ranking of nineteen. That’s right, I was higher than Narelle! I’ve never lost to her and I never will. I’m never playing her again. I decided to make the move to the states when I was talking with another Australian guy when I was playing in tournament in Greenwich. I found out there was a lot more money in coaching in America, and I got the coaching job at Merion. When I left Merion to get married, I told them I had someone to fill my position who looked like me and sounded like me. Narelle took my car, my apartment and all of my white outfits!

FGN: Narelle, what was your goal with starting the WDSA (the professional Women’s Doubles Squash Association)?

NTK: I knew there was a need for women to be recognized in doubles.  We had sanctioned tournaments but not for prize money.  After seeing the ISDA men come to our clubs, I knew there was a way for the women to be recognized as well. There is also a lack of collegiate girls continuing to play squash after they graduate college.  I thought by growing the women’s doubles game this would help encourage them to play the sport as they would be social with their friends but keep them competing in a game they had once loved.

FGN: Tarsh, you’ve played doubles with your sister as your partner. What is that like? Does somebody have to keep the peace?

NTM: No, (laughs), nobody has to keep the peace. I don’t know if it’s because we’re so close in age, but we pretty much know what the other one is thinking. We know how to get the other one fired up; Narelle can give me a game plan, and I can kick her butt. I love playing with my sister because she’s so dang good.

FGN: US Squash is having a lot of trouble retaining female players after they graduate from college. What would you say to girls graduating this year to encourage them to keep playing?

NTK: Doubles is a fun way to stay fit and stay in a sport where it’s competitive but you are not stuck out there on your own chasing a little black ball around.  It is a totally new experience from anything you have been through as a junior or collegiate squash player.  Doubles will allow you to play squash for the rest of your life.  By supporting the women’s tour you are also helping to encourage young girls to play as juniors and be involved in a sport that we have all gotten so much out of.

FGN: Does the WDSA have any plans for events to encourage young women to pick up doubles?

NTK: The WDSA is working with US Squash to encourage young college players to play in the U25 doubles nationals. The WDSA is also working with a sponsor to host a doubles clinic in Sept/October in Greenwich where they get to play doubles, watch the WDSA play an exhibition followed by a manicure/pedicure afternoon.  It needs to be a fun, non-intimidating event to get them hooked.  Once we get them there, we can encourage them to play in the qualification of the pro events.

Narelle was the head squash professional at the Field Club of Greenwich, but has just relocated to Baltimore, Maryland with her husband Rob and their sons William and Blake. Natarsha lives in Las Vegas, Nevada where she is the head squash professional at the Sports Club Las Vegas. She lives there with her husband Jim and her boys Nicholas, Luke and Jake.

Tournament of Champions in Grand Central this week

By Sarah Odell

Anyone striding through Grand Central Terminal this week could be excused for looking up from their Blackberries and iPhones and thinking they had accidentally zig-zagged west to Madison Square Garden (OK, not really, but…)

It’s not everyday that an all-glass regulation squash court with stadium seating is erected in the footpath of 150,000 commuters. I’m talking about the annual Tournament of Champions, a mega event featuring 32 of the world’s top squash players – along with a constellation of non-pro events, including the GrandOpen, which I played in last weekend as part of “Squash Week.”

As someone who has watched and played squash in 90-plus degree heat in Israel, on grungy college courts, at some of the most elite clubs in Greenwich, CT, Philadelphia, PA, there is something truly exhilarating about seeing squash in Grand Central. It’s just different to see the game in Vanderbilt Hall, an elegant space with 48-foot ceilings and chandeliers, with views on all sides and the sound of New York traffic about twenty feet from the court.

The story at this year ‘s Grand Open, hosted by the Metropolitan Squash Rackets Association (MSRA) and played at the Harvard Club, Princeton Club, Yale Club, Sports Club LA and New York Sports Club Uptown (and drew 200 players from across the US!)  –  was women.

Twenty percent more female players showed up to play this year, said Jessica Green, MSRA co-chair. The numbers, said Emily Steiff, a former collegiate player from Connecticut College who helped organize the Grand, spurred organizers to add flights. While the MSRA originally planned flights for female players – at 3.0, 4.0 and 5.0 levels , heavy demand drove them to add play for  4.5 and 5.5 players.

“The growth in women’s squash in New York has been phenomenal,” said Green. In the last five years, she said, the MSRA has added eight women’s league teams (including a new 5.0 division), led clinics and round robins serving hundreds of players.

“New players are entering at the beginner and novice levels, women are returning after taking breaks for work and family, and players are continuing to play competitively post-college — all good news for the growth of the sport,” says Green, who said they saw a 20 percent growth in female entrants this year.

And the quality has been strong. “We were thrilled to see 16-year old Amanda Sobhy take third place in the men’s 6.0 draw.” Sobhy, who is ranked 55th on the WISPA tour, entered in the highest men’s division. Her result is proof that the women are getting stronger, even at the local level, and becoming a force to be reckoned with.

It’s become standard: we listen and watch as men objectify women — and women play into it. We’ve got Serena naked on the cover of ESPN magazine, women pro squash players selling swimsuit calendars (and speaking of swimsuits, the SI annual issue is out next month).

But for at least one time slot on Tuesdays, a new TV show proves that two can play that game. I bring you, Conveyor Belt of Love. (Watch a short clip here).

I encourage you to watch the show, if for no other reason than its comic value. But for those who opt-out, here’s the rundown: Five women sit in director’s chairs and watch as a life-size conveyor belt hauls 35 slabs of meat (er, men) on by, one by one. Each man has sixty seconds to sing, dance, rap, recite or in some other way impress the women. Some men come by clothed, others more or less naked – and still other take off their shirts after being asked to do so by the women. The women have placards that read “interested” and “not interested” which they can hold up at any point in the man’s schpiel. At the end of the show, each woman selects one man for a date. The contrived setup makes for a mindlessly entertaining hour of television.

It’s obvious that the tables have been purposefully turned. The women on Conveyor are vapid — and the men are 10 cents a dozen. The females are unfairly judgmental and the guys are pathetically eager to please.

What makes this worth a conversation is that more than merely answering the Bachelor with the Bachelorette, this show offers something we rarely see: a vision of a successfully manipulated social climate. In this show, the women have done men one better. Conveyor Belt of Love, after all, is a program in which the roles could never be reversed without someone at ABC losing their job.

That said, I need to add that this arms race is not poised to turn out well for either side. I mean – what’s next? Where are we racing to?  The real-life meat market only grows less romantic and more embarrassing each passing day.

But the competitor in me has to admit that as far as gamesmanship goes, this is a brilliant little trick shot to put the women up one — if only for an hour a week.

Grainger bests Alison Waters in the finals of the Burning River Classic in Cleveland, Feb. 2009

By Sarah Odell

What happens when you cross a genetic pre-disposition with an environment crafted for squash excellence? Answer: Natalie Grainger, one of the top women’s squash players in the world (she’s been # 1) and president of WISPA (the women’s professional governing body).

Natalie has great genes — her mom, Jean, was a former No. 1 player and British National Champion — and she grew up in a squash environment. Her mom and dad, a South African Civil Engineer, built the Parkview Squash Centre in South Africa, which Natalie refers to “as a second home.” Throw in that she picked up a squash racquet at 2 ½ years old and it’s clear why Natalie has some serious victories – and investment – in professional squash.

She recently took time from traveling and playing to talk about learning to be a competitor, burnout and — bikinis.

FGN: What have been the hardest aspects of the game to master?

NG: When I was younger and just starting on the tour, I struggled to understand that there was no such thing as a perfect game of squash. I needed to just get on with things and compete to the best of my ability.  I became a really tough competitor, and could win even when I wasn’t at my best – some of my most memorable wins are not championship victories, but battles I had to overcome with players that tested me to my limit.

FGN: How do you balance your role as President of WISPA with competition (against players you represent)?

NG: I have learned to separate my work for WISPA from my play because my role  includes dealing with promoters and handling player’s needs as a board member.  Being able to shut my laptop, close my eyes, visualize my game, understand that I cannot affect anything else or see to anything else is liberating. It allows me to prepare and get ready for my matches, which for me is one of the most enjoyable parts of my life!

FGN: Many athletes, especially in college are burnt out by the time they make it to school. What keeps you playing?

NG: I’m going to turn this around and ask your readers, “Why do you consider yourself burnt out?” I don’t understand that so-called issue. Sport is fun and social and teaches you to find a competitive edge that can translate into any career (which by the way will be a whole lot more stressful than chasing down a squash ball!) I would say that the term “burnt out” is an over-exaggeration and surely cannot apply to school kids arriving at college. How are they old or experienced enough, how can they be burnt out from a sport that they don’t play full time, how can they know the stress of paying rent by whether or not they perform?  Squash has been my chosen career, but I play because it is the sport that has been the most enjoyable for me.

FGN: How do you mentally prepare for matches?

NG: On game day I find time a few hours before my match to lie down, close my eyes and semi-nap/visualize my upcoming match. It allows me to play some points, focus completely and utterly on my upcoming performance, my strategy for that particular opponent, and also work through any anxiety I might feel by understanding in my mental darkness that I am really good and that I am ready to be tested. I always set an alarm clock, usually giving myself about 45 mins for this down time. When I get that flutter of nerves in my tummy thinking about the game, I know that I am ready. Often walking through the door of the court for my match I get another flutter of nerves, this always makes me smile and laugh inside as it is the competition of a squash match that is getting my juices flowing – we have to laugh at the way the human psyche works don’t you think?

FGN: WISPA has decided to do a swimsuit calendar for 2010. Is that right?

NG: When WISPA decided to do the first calendar last year, we went with squash kit and a second shot in black tie dress. Many people often don’t recognize the girls — having admired their ability on the court, retrieving, lunging, striking, mentally digging in, concentrating and often showing a side that is competitive and often ruthless to an opponent — when they emerge from the changing rooms to emerge in high heels, jewelry and trendy cocktail dresses, with their hair done, make up on and ready to socialize with sponsors, patrons, supporters and fans!

With the Cayman Open coming in April, we had the ideal opportunity to shoot a “hot” calendar on their beautiful beaches, so I contacted Patricia Lyons, a friend, squash fan and fabulous professional photographer. All of us loved our time behind the camera! It was a little nerve racking to begin with, but by the end of the shoot, the inner goddess certainly came out!! Huge fun!

FGN: Why do a “hot” calendar?

NG: WISPA decided to do a hot calendar for the fun element and to showcase our international athletes in a way that showed their appeal as awesome women that are strong and diverse — and the bikini calendar caught people’s attention! We have been able to get pieces in many different magazines and websites due to the fact that the calendar is tasteful and sexy and we believe that it promotes our tremendous athletes in a cool and energized way.

Odell (in blue)

By Sarah Odell

The other day, the Wellesley College Squash Team — my team — opened the 2009 season at home against Smith College. This is my last home opener. As a senior, who has spent four years holding the number one spot at Wellesley, I can’t help but reflect.

Sure, I’m not the QB at UMich or the top scorer in field hockey at the University of Delaware. That would be Tate Forcier and Casey Howard.

There was no scholarship on the line when a back injury put me on the bench junior year. We’ve never contended for a national title.  But playing squash and being on a team has been an integral part of my college education. Squash has taught me patience. After our first game, I had a long talk with our coach: several on the team are just learning the game.  It is a very special opportunity to learn to play a sport in college, and – wow, compete – at the intercollegiate level.

Wellesley students strive to be the best; the best scientist, the best writer, the best art historian, the best politician (just ask Hillary). To be thrust into an environment where they not only are not the best, but “learning on the road” as my yoga instructor says, is hard. I won my match last night in three straight sets. My teammates teased me about how many balls I hit into the nick, and how many ace serves. What they do not know, is that my first year in college, I was one of them.

I arrived at Wellesley having played at Exeter, but my highest ranking on the Exeter squash team was number three. At Wellesley, I was thrust into the number one spot. I won only one match my freshman year. Yes, I had played before, but I was forced to compete at an advanced level. I desperately wanted to be good – no – I wanted to be great. But even keeping the ball in play was hard. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t keeping the ball tight enough.

Three years later, I’m just starting to win some matches. It has taken a brutal summer of working at a competitive internship in New York City until 5, being on court by 5:30, and working hard night after night. Lessons. Matches. Weight lifting. Cardio. Finally, it’s starting to click. Coach says she can see that the work is paying off.

Squash has taught me how to measure success. (Hint: it’s not always W’s and L’s). Sometimes success is forcing myself to run for a ball that I believe is un-gettable, and surprising myself when I return the shot. Other times, it is the look on a teammate’s face as they stand behind the glass wall of the court, cheering my name during a match.

There have been other lessons, like how to work with others, motivate peers, and achieve goals from within a group. Most importantly, squash has given me my best friends in college. After a frightening week at home last year, where I endured tests, MRIs, and multiple doctor visits, a spine specialist in Wellesley diagnosed me with a disc problem in my spine — but wanted the MRI to prove it. With parents miles away, it was my teammate Ashley, now my doubles partner and co-captain, who went with me to get the scan that last year put me on the bench.

It is strange – and a little scary – to imagine the next phase of my life. I wonder if I will make the same connections without varsity athletics. But bet that I’ll try. Wherever I end up, it won’t be far from a squash court.

Sarah Odell, a regular blogger at FairGameNews, is a senior at Wellesley College and co-captain of the squash team.