Tuesday, February 23, 2010 - Posts
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It has come to my attention, as Slate's official squash correspondent, that a video of one squash player attempting to eat the head of another squash player is making the rounds on the Internet. This is another bad mainstream moment for squash. Squash fans are still depressed that our sport was denied a berth in the London Olympics. More beach volleyball, anyone? Ooh, can't wait for the rhythmic gymnastics to begin!
Anyway, on Sunday, Baset Chaudhry—who is 6-foot-5, hails from Pakistan, and is co-captain of the legendary squash powerhouse, the Trinity Bantams—defeated the top player from Yale, the freshman Kenneth Chan, from Singapore. The victory gave the bantams their 12th-straight national title—they haven't lost a team match since 1998. The sportsmanship fail happened at the end of the match, when Chaudhry does a victory yell over Chan, creating an awkward Goliath-confronting-David moment. Next, Chaudhry leaves the court, gives his dad a hug, and then pushes Chan back into the court when the Yale player tries to exit.
The jocks at ESPN's SportsCenter were soon having fun with this episode of squash "trash talking." In the video, the analyst Merril Hoge breaks down the "questionable sportsmanship" with the help of his telestrator while his colleagues chuckle along. Hoge's contempt for squash starts with an attempt to explain the rules: "You got a couple lines here. A line up top." Then he zooms in on the "verbal spraying" and concluded by connecting the whole incident to the importance of "buttocks"-blocking in the NFL.
Sure, there's some residue of truth to what a commenter on Deadspin had to say: "Squash: the sport rich kids play when they suck at lacrosse." But as Slate's Seth Stevenson pointed out almost a decade ago, collegiate squash has become an international game, with the Baset Chaudhrys replacing the Baxter Thatcher Hatchers at the top of the ladders. At both the pro and the top collegiate level, squash players are elite athletes—aerobic freaks with amazing hand-eye, foot speed, racquet discipline, and guile. Watch this rally, nonbelievers:
Back to the matter at hand, Chaudhry displayed improper squash dominance. The best way to win is with nonchalance. You stalk the court in such a manner to imply that the calls, your opponent's shots, and the crowd simply don't matter, such is your obvious dominance over your opponent. If you do deign to yell, you yell at the refs. (There is a lawyer-esque element to competitive squash matches, as each call can be appealed.)
We are also left to wonder what it was that set off Chaudhry. Trinity's coach said that Chan had been "getting in [Chaudhry's] pants for the entire match" (i.e., crowding him) and that the outburst was an outpouring of that frustration. There is also loose talk of an earlier Chan-initiated staring-down moment. We may never learn the truth of this alleged "trash talk," but it's more fun to conjure our own imaginary squash insults.
Some suggestions:
- I've seen better drop shots in John Irving novels.
- I've seen better rails in West Coast cities known for their sprawl and lack of public transit options.
- Where'd you learn to serve, Hotchkiss?
Let's hear your best squash trash talk in the comments.
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I was recently perusing the pre-sale items for L.L. Bean's new signature collection, when I was distracted by the blond model wearing the $79 textured pullover. Why did she look so familiar? This wasn't one of the blandly attractive, patently frumpy denizens of the mail-order catalog. It was none other than Maggie Rizer, the supermodel famous for her Nordic good looks and for losing her fortune to her father's gambling problem, who just a few years ago used to regularly grace the covers of Vogue and Elle. Poking around on the site further, I watched a promotional video for the new line, and caught a glimpse of—could it really be?—Missy Rayder, younger half of the famous Rayder sisters, and also a bona fide supermodel of the early aughts.
Since when do high fashion and L.L. Bean, long-time purveyor of mom jeans and mock turtlenecks, even belong in the same sentence? Is this just another example of the sad fate of aging supermodels? (Rizer is 32 and Rayder 33, so, basically, ancient.) Or is the stodgy old Maine brand positioning itself to become the next big thing? The signature collection—for which the company hired creative director Alex Carlton, founder of the nautically hip Rogues Gallery—is an assortment of new designs and updated classics, cut trimmer than the standard, boxy Bean fare and marked up 20 to 25 percent. Not coincidentally, Rizer and Rayder are also both "American classics reinterpreted for today," according to a company spokesperson.
Someone at Bean clearly got the memo that in the age of Vampire Weekend, their preppy-meets-outdoorsy look is all of a sudden kind of trendy. Everywhere I look in New York this winter, people are wearing Bean boots again—I resurrected my sister's old pair from college. The boot is one of the mainstays the new line revamps, introducing a Filson-esque waxed cotton version that has already sold out on pre-order. If L.L. Bean wants to de-frump their image and update their classics, I'm excited to see the results. But a word of caution to those who have loved their Bean boots and canvas totes forever: When a genuine old-school American outfitter starts pandering to a younger set, the results aren't always pretty.