It was the early eighties and the height of hardball days; Mohibullah Khan was playing Ray Lugo at The Squash Club in Allston, Mass. Mo was one of the best hardball players in history, but a little past his prime; Ray was a tricky and strong pro who had been training hard for some time and had had a lot of good recent results. The match was intense, and soon the area behind the glass-backed court was full.
The match was an entertaining one for the fans. Mo played to the crowd and popped open his huge eyes at the referee and judges in mock disbelief, while Ray used his fake serve to amaze the crowd and make them laugh. (Yes, you read that right: “fake serve.” Ray used to toss up the ball, make a full hard-serve motion while purposely whiffing on the ball, and then hit a bizarre back-hand lob serve as the ball came down.)
Mo was not without his own tricks, though, and he started purposely missing the ball himself – this time while at the front wall. He swung hard and fast, hitting nothing but air, and then would feather a delicate drop shot. The two tricksters both wanted to do more than entertain, however, for each also wanted desperately to win. The match began to turn a little ugly as they alternated between getting in each other’s way and blasting each other with the ball.
Then, as the welts on Lugo’s legs started to turn colors, Mo hit Ray with the ball in a different way. During a long point, Lugo hit a ball that came down the middle of the court. Mo was standing in front of Ray, and he stepped forward to drop the ball to the front of the court. He set up to hit the ball with an exaggerated backswing to keep the eager-to-take-off Lugo trapped behind him. And then, suddenly, he didn’t swing.
The ball, of course, kept going. It hit the perplexed Lugo on his legs. Mo, of course, knew exactly what he had done, and so picked up the ball and went to the service box. The referee was less clear on what had happened. But, eventually, it became clear that Mo was right. Lugo had hit the ball last and the ball hit him. Mo’s point.
The rule, of course, has since changed. At that time, as Mo became increasingly proficient at using this technique, and as others began to copy it, the rule-meisters decided that the rule needed adjustment. The logic was this: in squash, where clearing is paramount, you nevertheless only should need to clear once. If your opponent “shapes as if to hit the ball” and then the ball hits you or you find yourself in the way, you ought to be granted a let. In effect, Mo had a rule created for him.
In one of the few times that the international softball rulemakers followed the lead of the American hardballers, this rule eventually became standard in both games. What has been lost, however, is the principal on which it is based: a player should have to completely clear to allow the opponent full access to the ball, but the player should not have to do it twice on the same exchange.
This is too bad. Over time, the top pros have found another way to put their opponents into double jeopardy, and the rulemakers have decided not just to ignore it, but also to give it their blessing. This is the situation known as mental turning.
At the Tournament of Champions this past February, Jon Powers of Canada was playing his quarterfinal match against Stewart Boswell of Australia, and he had Boswell repeatedly on the defensive. Three or four times during the close four-game match, Boswell hit a backhand rail that, while aimed to be tight against the sidewall, instead hit the crack between the front wall and the side wall and squibbed out into the middle of the court.
Power, anticipating a rail, was already preparing to hit a backhand volley when the ball started to come into his body. Stepping backward toward the T with his racquet raised on his backhand side, Power forced Boswell to move to Power’s right and slightly behind him. Already anticipating Power’s backhand volley, Boswell was as tight as he could be to the right of Power, so that he could move aggressively after Power made contact with the ball.
But Power pulled a Mo Khan; at the last moment, he turned his entire body (facing the front wall the whole time), brought his racquet across the front of his body and decided to take the ball on his forehand. Suddenly, Boswell was in Power’s way. Power called let – and was (correctly, according to today’s rules) awarded a stroke. But here is the thing: Power’s quick mind and equally quick reactions (much like Mo Khan’s) enabled him to force Boswell to clear twice in succession.
One of the things that mars squash today is when players hunt for strokes instead of playing through. This is not a criticism of Power (he was, after all, playing by the rules), but Jon already had Boswell out of position when he realized that he could get a stroke; with a rule that only would have allowed a let, the point likely would have continued.
The feeling, I am guessing, is that Boswell hit a bad shot, and therefore should be punished for it, so allowing the stroke is just. The reality, though, is that the rulemakers not only are being inconsistent, they also are guilty of forgetting one of squash’s prime directives: a player should only need to clear once.
