By Kevin Klipstein
I’ve been in and out of squash my entire life. I started at age 11, playing junior and then college squash. I co-captained Cornell’s team my senior year and was named second team All-American. Then I went cold turkey and didn’t pick up a racquet for over a year.
Nearly broke and wanting to head west, I worked for Peter Briggs at the Apawamis Club in New York for the winter, and then spent a few ensuing seasons as a teaching pro in Seattle. Then, after starting a career in sponsorship and sports marketing, I once again stopped playing—or played intermittently at best. Just before taking this job at U.S. SQUASH, I had begun to make some progress getting squash back into my life as a routine.
Since taking this job three years ago, my game has followed similar patterns. Playing fairly regularly, then hardly at all, on and off. I used to say to the staff, “Do as I say, not as I do—play squash.” It took three different people, to say the same thing to me, three days in a row, to drive home a simple point. The script went something like this:
The question: “You playing any squash?”
My response: “Not really.”
The retort: “Kevin, you can’t let work get in the way of your squash.”
The last person to say this to me was Victor Elmaleh, a friend I had met at the Yale Club a few years ago. Victor and I exchanged contact information and we set up a game for a week or two later. We had a fun game, but didn’t play again, primarily because I started working in Philadelphia, and Victor ran into some shoulder problems and had not been able to play the last two years.
What you may not know, is that Victor won the U.S. Doubles Championships in 1968, at the age of 49, with a partner also named Victor (Niederhoffer—who was about half Elmaleh’s age at the time). After we followed “the script” above, I challenged him to get back on the court himself. He accepted, and we’ve been playing regular games since.
What I didn’t really consider, is how much I would grow to enjoy spending time with Victor, the degree to which I would value his opinions and advice, and how many different things we could talk about and share outside of squash. We talk between and after games, breaking down the match like competitive players do. Almost equally important, he usually buys me lunch afterwards!
Being able to play a squash match with someone literally a full 50 years older (he turns 90 later this year) is surprise enough. For those interested: He plays the right back corner; I play the back corner and front of the court; we use a hardball doubles ball on an international singles court; the ball flies and the rallies often last up to 60 or 70 shots; and Victor usually lives up to his name. However, to have the opportunity to befriend someone I would ordinarily have such a small chance of ever connecting with has been a true gift.
Lately, I’ve noticed Victor finding his balance easier, his footing more sure, his steps lighter and his shots more accurate. With squash playing back in my routine, I have found the same things to be true about my own life.
