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Foreword:

On the 15th of April 2018, alongside my playing partner James Willstrop, I achieved a feat I would have never thought possible as a child, winning a Commonwealth Games Medal. This short story takes a look into that event and how within the space of 24 hours I experienced sport at its most brutal and heartbreaking, and then at its most joyful and emotional. It also illustrated how pressure can build to fever pitch and what that does to us as individuals, and how it can prepare us for the future. Almost one year on I wanted to offer my insights into what was probably the most significant 24 hours of my Squash playing life to date, and how I experienced the agony of defeat and the thrill of victory.

“10-7 match ball” said the referee. 80 minutes have passed. 80 minutes of concentration and pressure that I have never experienced before in my life. “1 more point boy, nothing changes it’s just another rally” says James Willstrop to me as we compose ourselves in the corner of the court, standing on the precipice of a Commonwealth Final and Gold Medal match. The heart rate is racing close to 200bpms, no doubt mainly through sheer nerves and anticipation. The body tenses up as though being confronted with its own worst enemy. One more point is all it takes. The 5000 strong crowd has been amazing and are rising to a crescendo as we reach the climax of the Semi-final in the Men’s Squash Doubles in the 2018 Commonwealth Games.

It is at this point that everything becomes a blur. I mean not one single recollection of what happens next. It’s often said that when people experience momentous occasions in their lives that it all happens very quickly and memory fails to serve them. If this wasn’t an example of that then I can’t imagine what would be. My next memory comes almost 10 minutes later when the referee says those two fateful words that are the stuff of a Squash players nightmare at match ball down. “No let”, “match to Selby and Waller 11-9 9-11 11-10”.

Of course it was going to go down to the last point, for nearly 2 years we had been preparing for this event which, in my opinion is the biggest occasion a Squash player can triumph in alongside the World Championships. And during those sparring sessions at England’s national training facility in Manchester, more or less every session had come down to the final point or two as myself and James honed our skills and our partnership against our team mates. As we all came to the middle of the court during that Semi-Final we embraced with the highest order of respect imaginable. Sport is at times amazingly cruel. Quite unfortunately on this occasion, one team had to lose. Nearly 90 minutes of sweat and mental and physical exertion of the utmost degree. We walked off court to what I believe was a standing ovation.

We sat down in our corner, as our coach came over to console us, his face a picture of pure sympathy for the fact someone had to lose. At this moment I sunk my head into my towel and started crying immensely. 4 opportunities to progress to the Gold Medal match had gone wanting. The emotion’s surfacing were uncontrollable and intense. How couldn’t you convert one of those match balls? This must be a bad dream. I’m going to wake up in a moment. What went wrong? Did you freeze? The truth is, we both left quite literally all that we had on the court. Doubles is really quite an interesting phenomenon in comparison to singles. Wild swings on the scoreboard explained by no rhyme or rhythm. Seemingly advantageous positions turning into disastrous ones within moments. The outcome of games and matches can turn on the flip of a coin. No, there could be no room for regret here. We applied ourselves as best we could for one and a half hours but the result did not go our way.

With eyes dried up I gathered my things and we headed over to sign some autographs and greet a few of the audience who were also highly sympathetic to what we had been through. Again the emotions at this point change once more. A very surreal state of disappointment and anguish. We head back to the warm up area to jump on the exercise bike to cool down the bodies ahead of some stretching and recovery work. James as cool an operator as ever, consoled me despite my quite obvious pain. Both of us were unanimous in having given it our all and that sadly it was just one of those things. Another swing in the emotions, this time an overwhelming sense of tiredness. I needed to get back to the athletes village, if nothing else, to process what had just happened. I told James I was heading back and that I would see him back at our apartment.

Upon getting back there I literally went straight to bed and fell asleep. Now bearing in mind that at this point it was around 3pm, that might seem quite odd or humorous or any bunch of things on the outset. But it was really a consequence and result of what we had just been through. Such was the level of concentration applied, and the amount of emotion experienced, that my brain was simply shutting down and fatigued beyond compare. I didn’t wake up for 3 hours. To add context to this, the usual response after going to battle on the court in tournament play is that the mind fails to shut down for many hours after, due to the adrenaline flowing through the body. Here in this situation it had gone far past that, the body had burned through all its adrenaline and reserves. I needed to recover.

I woke when James came into our room and in typical fashion said “are you alright lad?” “yeah I’m okay Jimbo, you?” “yeah”. I must admit I think at least personally I wasn’t very good company for the rest of my team for the remainder of that day. I guess as humans we all process things in a different way. I’m not really one to bottle up emotion, I was just dealing with it as best I could. It took the rest of that day and evening to contemplate what had gone on earlier that afternoon. I remember James saying to me before we went to sleep that it’s okay to feel how you do right now, but that tomorrow morning we have to wake up and there is still a huge honor to play for, a Bronze medal. Those words stuck with me greatly.

The next morning I woke up and headed to the food hall. Upon seeing James all I can say is that we saw each other and just burst out laughing without saying a word to each other. The conversation at breakfast then went along the lines of:

Me: What have we just gone through yesterday?!

James: I don’t know mate (laughter followed)

Me: Unbelievable.

James: I know, but look it isn’t going to get any harder than that, no matter what happens today it simply cannot be harder than what we went through yesterday. So we approach it just the same as any other match.

Me: Yeah thanks Jimbo, one more push.

James is a hugely inspiring character but even more importantly, an extremely calming one. He has experienced it all in the Squash world and it showed. Those little things he said to me here and there following that Semi-Final defeat were largely the reason I was able to come back out the next day alongside him and perform to any level. Yes we had lost an excruciatingly close match but we still had a Commonwealth Bronze Medal to play for; something I could never have dreamed of achieving as a kid growing up just playing the sport he loved for fun. So off we went, 18 hours after probably the toughest moment of my life in Squash, to the warm up facility at the venue to get ready for the Bronze Medal match.

What happened in the following couple of hours was quite extraordinary to me. From the moment we started hitting balls on the practice court I felt an overwhelming sense of calm and serenity. It was as if nothing really mattered anymore, but I say that in a positive sense. The fact was we had experienced so much by way of emotion the previous day that no matter what was going to be thrown at us today, it really couldn’t touch us. It was happening just as James said at breakfast. Today was going to be one last burst of mental application and physical effort. And we were going to enjoy it.

We were up against the Scottish pairing of Alan Clyne and Greg Lobban, renowned for being one of the best teams in the world. They were the number 2 seeds and had also lost out in the Semi-Final. As we got underway the feeling from the practice court remained the same. Complete concentration and application but calm and peacefulness. Today was going to be enjoyed and appreciated. It’s not every day you find yourself in a beautiful country, in an immense venue, representing your country competing for a Commonwealth Medal. 58 minutes later the referee announced the following: “match to Willstrop and James 2-0, 11-9 11-9”. We had done it, I dropped my racket and banged the back wall with my fists before shaking hands with our opponents. Myself and James then hugged once more. It was over. 2 years of preparation. 3 weeks of anticipation in the athletes village, culminating in what each of the nearly 5000 athletes were there to achieve, taking home a medal.

“We deserve this” I said to James during our embrace. The unbelievably ironic thing being that the same “no let” decision made yesterday that had resulted in the most painful moment of my career was also given in this match but in our favour, resulting in the most joyful moment. We both gave a fairly emotional speech in the aftermath then embraced with the rest of our amazing team behind the court. Pure ecstasy then set in, yesterday was completely forgotten. This amazing thing called sport that had taken from us yesterday, today gave to us in abundance. Negative emotions turned to the most positive you could imagine. What I am convinced of however, is that the pressure we had experienced the day before that was the most I’d ever experienced in the competitive field, despite our loss, was the reason I, and no doubt James were able to play with calmness and enjoyment the next day.

I don’t believe we would have won that Bronze medal match if not for our mental disposition during that time. If training the body in the gym allows us to handle any physical situation we face on the court, then dealing with pressure of that degree definitely allowed us not to be phased by it the following day in that match. Yes by meeting situations of intense pressure head on and applying ourselves to getting through them as best we can, we certainly prepare ourselves for any future situations of pressure. Sport truly is wonderful. It challenges and pushes us in ways that serve to help us grow as individuals, as people. It demands great amounts from us at the professional level. But its rewards are equally great. And it was during that period of 24 hours that I experienced in their whole those famous words, although phrased back to front: The agony of defeat; the Thrill of Victory.