TigerBlog has tried basically every form of exercise there is at some point during his lifetime.
His least favorite is easily running. His favorite? Bicycling and his years in lunchtime basketball are close to the top, but he'd have to say it's the 15 years or so he spent playing squash, mostly against his former colleague and longtime friend Craig Sachson. That was before he had surgery on both knees and shoulder tendinitis, of course.
TB has always had a great appreciation for the sport, especially when it's played at a level that only remotely resembles the game he used to play. He was also very close with legendary coach Bob Callahan, who tragically passed away in 2015 at the age of 59 due to brain cancer. If you never knew Bob, that's your loss, since he was as fine a gentleman as has ever lived.
Princeton's men's team won an Ivy League championship this past Saturday in a thrilling 5-4 comeback win against Penn. The clinching point came in the fifth game of the No. 1 match, and it was delivered by senior Karim Elbarbary.
After the match, TB reached out to Elbarbary, whom he's never met, to congratulate him and to ask him about the emotions of the day. Here is what Elbarbary had to say:
In our recent match against Penn, the odds were stacked against us as we trailed 4-1 after five matches. The pressure was tangible, setting the tone even before I stepped onto the court. Adding to the intensity, Princeton hadn't clinched an Ivy title in a staggering 11 years. We had fans and alumni fly in from all over with hopes of witnessing this long-awaited moment. Some of these alumni had trained on these courts at Jadwin during their undergraduate years at Princeton, in some cases decades ago. I could see it in their eyes how much it meant to them seeing a final Ivy title enter our home we call Jadwin, as this would be Princeton Squash’s last-ever match on these courts.
The turning point arrived when my teammate secured the eighth match, leveling the score at 4-4. Suddenly, over a decade of anticipation boiled down to my impending match. The crowds grew, eyes fixated on the court with eager anticipation. The fourth game saw a surge of spectators flooding in as they realized this final game would be the decider to the title, creating an atmosphere that disoriented my focus.
Amidst the vast crowd, I could only lock eyes with my coaches and teammates outside. Their expressions conveyed years of dedication, emphasizing the gravity of the moment. The pressure intensified, the fear of disappointment loomed, and the responsibility on my shoulders weighed more than the intense 60 minutes of squash leading up to that point.
Unfortunately, the fourth game slipped away at the last moment, tying the score at 2-2. Playing the deciding game is stressful on its own, but with a decade-long-awaited Ivy title at stake, the dynamics had completely shifted. The short break between games turned into a chaotic symphony of advice from coaches and teammates, creating a chorus I could hardly decipher.
In response, I opted to close my eyes, shutting out the crowd, the noise, doubts, and mounting pressure. The fifth game became a singular focus on finding a way to win. Before stepping on the court, I made a promise to leave everything on the court – a commitment that led to the most focused performance of my career.
The tie-breaking game brought not just mental but physical intensity. Coming back from a persistent year-long injury, I had to navigate the match strategically to avoid potential setbacks similar to the re-injury I had suffered in the Harvard match just weeks prior. Memories of pushing limits during practice flooded in, a testament to our team's preparation both mentally and physically.
In the heat of the match against Penn, the sting of last year's loss to Trinity at nationals haunted me. That defeat was a poignant moment etched in our collective memory, marked by tears shared in the hallway afterward. Rather than letting that setback define us, it became a powerful motivator this season, more than ever intensifying our training efforts in the lead-up to this crucial match. The pain of that loss fueled our resilience and determination, pushing us to train harder and strive for redemption on the court.
Amidst it all, assistant coach Neil Pomphrey who was coaching me during the match, disappeared into the ever-growing crowd. Pressure mounted, and the tie-breaking game unfolded with points swinging like a pendulum. I realized the only way I could win now was to increase pressure on my opponent by raising the pace of the game, reaching the ball earlier, and playing more aggressively. Point by point, I saw my opponent getting worn down. The moment I won the last point is one I will never forget — I was overcome with relief and joy seeing how proud my teammates and coaches were, and the chants of my nickname “Kimo!” only made the victory sweeter. Watching the victory on video still gives me goosebumps; however, I want to emphasize that this victory was not a one-person show. My teammates contributed tremendously throughout the season and in this game, making me just a small part of this great achievement.
Despite winning many individual awards for Princeton, they pale in comparison to the satisfaction of winning an Ivy title with the team. Princeton men's squash is a force to be reckoned with. We've faced heartbreaks together, falling short of winning titles time and time again. Those losses intensified the sweetness of this achievement as a senior. This journey, this team – winning that Ivy title is a defining moment etched deeply in my Princeton career and for the rest of my life.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment