By Alex Akins ’18

I look forward to going on squash trips whenever they’re available. It never gets old making fun of the Canisius kids right in front of them or getting so mad you shout at a seventh grader. Squash trips are always more exciting with the hardworking, enthusiastic, and bone-crushing starlets of the “b“ squash team. Muck has never attended one of the trips, probably because he spends his time trying to send a whale to space, trying to reinvent the Jean Pocket, and digging for Moles. Scramble hasn’t because he has unsquashed beef with Buffalo and Pennsylvania—I wasn’t expecting those two to make the expedition into the depths of Pennsylvania.  I was expecting that H and Mickey X would be going, but H had prior obligations drifting in his Mom’s Jeep, being a “Goon” and “Untameibal [sic].”  Mickey X had undisclosed activities in which to participate.

So it would just be the actual squash team and myself going to Mercersburg to play against Canisius, Potomac School, Lancaster County Day, and Mercersburg.

Normally during these events Micky X and I hang in the back of bus messing with H, but this time I was very alone. For the entire five-hour bus ride I tried to sleep and listened to “Don’t Disturb This Groove” by The System, and various fantastic songs on my Spotify playlist (Wowzahs!). When I awoke from my synthesizer-induced nap, we were in a Louisiana controlled zone of Pennsylvania called “Popeye’s.” I had never heard of anything referred to as “Cajun,” whatever that means. I had ordered the five-piece tender dinner meal, as apparently lunch doesn’t exist in Louisylvania.  I received at least ten tenders and a butter sponge called a ’biscuit.’ The people of Louisylvania are very generous. To say the least, I could not have prepared myself better for squash.

Before I knew it we were pulling into Mercersburg Academy and I was just waking up, not feeling as Louisiana Fresh as I was earlier. Mercersburg has a two floor ten-court facility which makes our three-court area seem malnourished and weak.

During intros I noticed that my first opponent of the tournament would be a girl. My whole game strategy had been squashed because if I played, “Chicago Rules” (no blood no foul) against a girl—I would never be invited back to any squash event (not that Freight Train 3 is helping me get invited back). It was at this point where I decided to just play squash and not try and get any other cities involved. My opponent really did not want to be playing squash. Most of the points consisted of one back and forth, and very little effort and skill on both parts. It was technically the worst game of squash ever played. I feel bad for the kids who had to ref it. I won the match 3-0 and blame it entirely on Popeye’s.

After my match the “B” team got an hour long break before our next match against Lancaster County Day School. Before our match, the “A” team was going to play Canisius. Canisius started the Squash Beef. Every time I play a Canisius kid I try to act nice, but I never get any of it back. This causes my rage to rise to extraordinary levels and then I end up launching 7^th graders across courts. I was looking forward to seeing Canisius crash and burn—and it did. Canisius lost 2-7 in matches.

I was called back into a court for the second round of intros. I would be once again playing a girl.  I won the first game confidently and then decided to throw it into cruise control. The next thing I remember was coming off the court after losing 1-3. Things could not have gone any worse, so I decided to try and chat her up. I was doing this while we were refereeing. I guess things were going well between us because no calls were being made, and no scores were being announced. It was quite possibly the worst game ever reffed. It was during the fourth game when Lancaster’s coach swapped out the girl I was refereeing with for someone else. It was also at this time when Coach Bridge asked me to make a call that I hadn’t seen. The Popeye’s chicken and two matches had put me in a zone which left me incredibly tired and deathly ill.  I was bamboozled and made the call Coach Bridge was pressing me to make. I was out of it for the rest of the match and due to poor refereeing the US player involved lost. Mostly because the other player took many breaks and the joke of a ref let him. I’m sorry.

I had changed back into scuzzy bus clothes, put my headphones in, and started walking out the door when Coach stopped me.  “This will NEVER happen again, alright Alex?” I nodded back very concerned for my well-being, but I was aware I deserved it.

I was walking out with coach when I saw the girl and sent a wave her way. She waved back and had a strange look on her face; it was either she just realized she was talking to me all day or that coach was staring at me with undisputed rage.

When we got to our hotel, I thought it would be best if I didn’t do anything to anger coach any more than I already had. He told us to be quiet and in bed by 11. I was in ‘Ceps and Jimbotti Abotti IV’s room when Jimbotti was complaining about his opponent.  I responded: “I mean c’mon man its just a squash racket stop complaining, just play the point. Squash ain’t for pathetic losers.” Bridge busted through: “Something is wrong in this room. Alex isn’t your room down the hall?” I sprinted back to my room just nodding.

The next morning I woke up drained of life, not wanting to play squash. Lucky for me the “B” team had no schedule that day so all I had to do was watch. Unlucky for me Coach made me play against a developing player that he brought up for the trip. I lost. I lowered every expectation that anyone had of me regarding squash.

After this it was time to ref once again. There was no girl within sight. Coach Bridge was standing over my shoulder, and before the match started said: “time for redemption.” Thankfully I passed the test and didn’t lower his expectations any more.

The Squash trip was a success. The team beat Canisius and that is all that matters. On the bus back I slept in my multiple-day old bus clothes and ate vile amounts of Chili Cheese Fritos.

With Squash over, I have nothing to fill the sad amounts of free time I have. What I do have is confidence that I will not be charged with criminal assault during a squash match.

Minor side note: this past weekend the “A” team won the National Championship.