The Heights Casino’s junior program in squash is legendary. At one point in time, the Guinness Book of World Records listed Garden Place as the Most Athletic block in the world since no fewer than seven children who lived on that block were nationally ranked in squash.
In the 1980s, there was a year where the Captain and number one player at Yale, Harvard, Wesleyan and the Penn women’s team all were Heights Casino products. A few years before that, the number one player at Deerfield, Exeter, and the Andover girl’s team were all Heights products. And only one player was on both lists.
One woman from the Heights Casino is in the squash Hall of Fame (Alicia McConnell), one Heights man played number one at Harvard (David Boyum) ahead of the then-current National Champion (Kenton Jernigan), one man and one woman from the Heights Casino have been National Champions and the junior awards are too numerous to count. Each of the people just mentioned were products of the pioneers of the Heights Casino junior squash and tennis program: Fred and Carol Weymuller.
Fred and Carol were a perfect combination for the juniors, and they came along at a time when Brooklyn Heights was just beginning to become an alternative place for upper middle class couples to raise their children. The Heights Casino became, for those who used it, a perfect place for kids to hang out.
And as long as they were going to hang out, Fred and Carol were going to teach them. Fred was tough and exacting, wanting things to be performed correctly, whether it was the stroke, the strategy or the etiquette of the game. Carol was gentle and encouraging, and she was the rally partner everyone wanted because she would keep the ball coming back again and again.
Fred and Carol also played the good cop / bad cop routine to perfection. Fred was much more often the bad cop, but like most tough cops, when he doled out the occasional compliment, it was remembered for life.
At one early morning tennis session, for example, Fred watched a couple of juniors doing a retrieving drill when he suddenly stopped the lesson. He called out to one of the boys and said, “Get out there!” The boy thought he was being punished and was sure that Fred was mad at him. After the lesson, the boy asked Fred why he had been sent out there at that point. Fred looked at the boy with surprise and said, "I wanted the others to see how the drill should be done; I knew you would run after everything." Thirty years later, the boy still remembers those words with pride.
Another time, one of the boys in tennis class dropped a racquet after a point. Fred banished the boy from the Casino for two weeks. But when the boy snuck back a week early, Carol hit some balls with him in – ahem – strict confidence. The point had been made, and the boy stopped losing his temper on the court.
It is funny how strongly the lessons stuck, too. When one boy missed his weekly group lesson where some rules of the game were covered, he found out the hard way that catching a serve before it bounces – even if it is going to be out – means that you lose the point. When he caught a ball clearly going out instead of dodging it like everyone else had been doing, the whole class started jeering. It turned out that the rule had been taught the week he was out. He pled ignorance. Fred didn't let him off the hook. "You have to know and play by the rules," Fred said. The boy lost the point, but the point was not lost on him. He was one of the first under-twenty-year-old certified USSRA referees.
The lessons were not always for everyone, though. You had to have thick skin sometimes. But those who kept coming back kept getting better and better. Like any good teachers, sometimes they told the truth – even when it hurt.
Fred and Carol were among the first to use videotape analysis to help kids watch themselves and improve. One time, one of the boys who was full of hustle but had been lacking in his skills development worked very hard during the taping and was excited for his critique. Fred said nothing at first, and the boy was filled with anticipation. Fred took a deep breath, looked at the boy, and said, "It looks as if you have never had a lesson in your life. This is awful. What were doing out there?"
This might seem harsh, and at the time, the boy was crushed, but he also realized at that moment that hustle alone doesn't cut it. And he started working harder on his game than ever before. And it all turned out okay. I know. I was that boy.
Eventually, Fred and Carol moved to Rochester, but their legacy at the Casino has continued to flourish. A number of years ago, the Heights Casino – in an effort to say thank you – created the Carol Weymuller Open, which has become one of the premier women’s pro events in the States. That is good, for too often we forget to thank our teachers until it is too late. Let this not be one of those times.
There are a lot of us who went through the Weymuller program who have always meant to write a note of thanks to you both. This is one of those long overdue notes. Thank you.
