The big venues in the world of sport bring intrigue and excitement to fans and athletes alike. Wimbledon, Lord’s, Wembley, Old Trafford, the MCG, the Stade de France, Twickenham, those exclusive golf courses that exclude women, Elland Road. Sorry, I lost my way there. I’m from Yorkshire.

What often helps is the history and tradition of the place, sometimes more so than the aesthetics or modernity of the venue. The most unlikely places can make for the most captivating sporting arenas. The audiences not only wonder at the sporting occasion they have come to witness, but hark back in their imaginations to sporting events of yesteryear.

In squash one event in particular has more pull than any other. It’s the one that recently finished in New York, the Tournament of Champions. Years ago tournament director John Nimick had a vision that must have made people laugh at the time, so fantastical it was. This vision was to place the glass court in the middle of one of the most recognised and beautiful buildings in the world, Grand Central Terminal.

When the court is built and the audience is in place, the incredible acoustics somehow create a crackling atmosphere. Tickets are sold in the main arena but there is a standing viewing area around the back of the front wall where anyone can watch, allowing passing commuters to look on for free.

The Canary Wharf Squash Classic in London. Photograph: Jordan Mansfield/Getty Images

Fifteen years on and Nimick’s vision, now reality, is unrivalled in squash and he has probably provided better exposure for the sport than any PR exercise ever could. For the first time this year the tournament awarded equal prize money for men and women, like many of the sport’s current major events.

In spring there are some top drawer competitions that are among my favourites of the year. In March the men play in another classy venue in Canary Wharf. There are definite similarities between it and New York and they somehow both capture perfectly that big city bustle, oozing an atmosphere that makes them such a pleasure to play. It’s no fluke that these two events are run by some of the finest tournament planners and directors in squash, Nimick and Tim Garner, a former world professional player.

As good as these venues are for athletes, they are perhaps made special by the audience more than anything else. The two events have such thrilled and thrilling crowds who really involve themselves in the action. It always helps if there is a VIP section that provides competitively priced and strong alcoholic options, something John and Tim both accommodate. There are certain characters, who when behind the red rope, bring a vociferous element to proceedings, which can only be a good thing for many of the players. Being able to lean on or bounce off an audience in the depths of a punishing match is a stirring boon.

I feel very lucky to be involved in a sport where the audiences are such a pleasure to play for. At the World Championships in Seattle in the autumn the fans seemed excited to see a level of squash on their doorstep that they are seldom exposed to because of geography, and the players responded. US audiences often have an encouraging and warm way about them; they want the combat and the conflict but they take an honest line. You get to know exactly how they feel about the action and the competitors.

British audiences are different: quieter perhaps, more thoughtful, but still enthusiastic and appreciative. Theirs is a more intense consideration of what unravels in front of them, as might be expected. In Egypt, a powerhouse in the world of squash, things are wildly different. It can be more chaotic, less ordered, even rowdy if their man takes to the court, but no less charming at times. Each country and venue has their own singular audience.

The last football match I had the pleasure of seeing made me somewhat sympathetic (yes, that’s right) towards footballers, after I sat through an hour and a half of their own fans shouting obscenities at them and telling them to “fuck off” back to a rival team. It’s probably best not to go into what was said to the officials.

The Al-Ahram International tournament, which is held at the foot of the 4,000-year-old Giza pyramid in Egypt. Photograph: Reuters

Sitting in a rugby league crowd at Headingley last season was a similarly toxic experience. The players tried their best, worked hard and, as far as I could see, gave everything for their team, taking punishing hits to the body that would have instantly concussed or hospitalised most of the fried-food brigade in the stands. The effort and standard the teams produced should have been appreciated and applauded. But the negativity from the fans – who slagged them off so viciously at any opportunity as if it was what they wanted to spend their time doing – was dispiriting.

I imagined these delusional fans confronted with the athletes they were sledging, such as Kevin Sinfield, and asking them to say it to their face. But of course that’s exactly why they feel vindicated to stand there criticising, because they never will have to deal with such a scenario. I don’t hear Sinfield ever complaining or criticising anyone about their work, or complaining about those fans criticising him, so that’s why I’m doing it for him. Presumably this acrid invective only surfaces in these people while they are on the terraces. Surely, within their lives as engineers, bus drivers, estate agents, or parents, they would not be inclined to speak to anyone in that way.

Cricket serves up diatribes from crowd and players alike, yet on the whole seems to have found a reasonable balance. There is a light-hearted mickey-taking element but it tends to be more humorous than hateful. The crowds at big tennis events never fail to create atmosphere, but neither will they be shouting insults to Roger Federer about his family, or telling the umpire he is a tosser. Indeed, it’s absolutely laughable to think of the Pimms quaffers at SW19 shouting obscenities at players.

Some people will justify the crowd behaviour in football and rugby league by saying it’s something to do with passion, but if I had anything to do with these sports I would be making moves to stamp this out. It might be old-fashioned to say it but neutrals don’t want to listen to disdainful fans verbally caning every player on the pitch gratuitously.

It’s great to have conflict, passion, anger and disgust in sport, but gratuitous and hateful insults thrown at players and officials is grotesque. If anything of the sort happened in a whole raft of other sports, these fans would be ejected from the arena. It’s unthinkable for crowds to scream and shout in such base terms at a swimming meet, a table tennis or hockey match, but football fans must sit within stadiums so often that they become immune to how vile the atmosphere really is.

So, as squash players reflect on another Tournament Of Champions in New York, we can be grateful for the audiences we enjoy in the classy squash venues all over the world. Of course they have opinions and criticise players – and they have every right to that – but they do it with grace and not hate.

• This is an article from James Willstrop’s blog

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