Who's speaking

Confessions of a Squash Court Manager

Episode 27
who's speaking

Well it's been a while since I've had reason to put pen to computer to share an incident that has happened to me as the manager of the Corleone Squash Center. 

However my zen place was shattered today, not by an in the flesh customer, but by an over the phone dickhead.

I get a call about 1pm from a player from a rival club who was coming to Corleone Squash Center to play one of our teams tonight in the local pennant league.

The reason for the call was to advise me that his team were forfeiting.They were probably scared shitless of the beating our team was going to give them... Corleone Squash Center players have that shit themselves affect on opposition teams.

Anyway, all was going well until out of the blue he asks, "who's speaking, is this that moron who calls himself the Squash godfather?" It wasn't so much that he called me a moron, it was the tone in his voice that got my hackles up. Plus..I lie, NO ONE CALLS ME A MORON!

"Yes.... this is the Squash godfather" I replied, barely able to get the words out through my gritted teeth.
"Are you aware there's a lot of people out there who think you're a real dick head.?" He said, with an edge of smugness now in his voice.

"Do YOU know there's also a lot of arse holes out there, and even dumber arse holes who listen to them?"
I replied, answering a question with a question. What normal person says things like this over the phone to a complete stranger...A fucking drop kick, that's who.
"Well they all can't be wrong can they.... Squash godfather?"  He persisted, sounding very irritated in have his misguided self righteousness challenged.

"You're obviously hanging around with too many fuckwits my friend. Maybe it's time you took your head out of your arse and venture out into the real world."  I said, maintaining a sense of professionalism.

"What the, who do you think, you can't speak." This idiot was so flabbergasted he couldn't get the words out of his dopey mouth.
"Bye bye dick head," I said, then quietly hung up the phone.

Game, set and match, Squash Godfather!!

Good squashing

Squash Godfather

No one told me!

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 26

No one told me !

Oh fuck, I thought to myself, when I looked out into the carpark of the Corleone Squash Centre and saw who was headed my way. This guy has been an arsehole every time he's entered my squash centre, and I wasn't expecting anything different from him today.
Once an arsehole always an arsehole; Squashgodfathers creedo!
.

"I want a court for an hour," he says, no hows your life?, kiss my arse or anything, just give me a court..........
Yes he's still an areshole!

"No problem, twenty five dollars and she's all yours," I answered, trying to stay calm.

"No,no, no, I'm a member, so it's cheaper!" He said, this time yelling.

"You were a member but that expired 6 months ago, so today it's twenty five dollars." I said.

"No one told me it was only for 12 months, I thought it was a life membership." He spat.

This guys is one of those very rare creatures who really is as dumb as he looks.

"Your fucking joking, surely?" I said, hoping to see a sign of laughter in his eyes, there wasn't.
"Life membership for a hundred and fifty bucks, give me a break." I was trying not to laugh in his face as that would really piss him off.

'I'm not paying full price, I should have been told that it wasn't a life membership."

"Like it or lump it mate, those light ain't going on till you give me get twenty five dollars, and if you keep pissing me off they wont be going on at all."
"I will pay when I finish," he said heading off around to the courts.

"No way, no how. Money NOW or fuck off." He turns around and throws his credit card at me.
Kerching, another twenty five bucks into my rocket.

Another happy customer

Good squashing

Squash godfather

where's the body

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 25

where's the body

It had been a lovely day at the Corleone Squash Center, a nice flow of  non whinging customers happily throwing money at the squash godfather, in the name of good health. Life couldn't be better.

Anyway, a group of 3 middle aged guys walked in and asked about booking a court.

"No problem guys show me twenty five dollars and your in business." I said. They handed over the cash and trotted around to court 4. 

The place was fairly busy, people wandering into the dunny or around to the kitchen to pinch a free drink out of the tap rather than fork out a measly three dollars fifty for a bottle of water.

I came out of the back store room with an armful of drinks and headed over to top up the fridge.

I noticed one of the guys who had recently come in, a fat, bald, lardish type standing next to it with a strange sort of satisfied, peaceful look on his piggy face.
Turns out it was the look  of  pure satisfaction from a job well done, as the dirty prick had just dropped his guts...BIG TIME! Or it may have been the look of sheer relief, that he had not actually shat himself. Either way, I had walked straight into a massive invisible cloud of shit...FAARK.

The stench was so vile my legs almost buckled from under me, "what the fuck have you done here mate?"  I yelled, desperately trying not to inhale a mouth full of shit.

He took off without answering me around to his court, dragging the dead stinking carcass that was hanging out his ass with him. Filthy prick.

As luck would have it a couple of young birds walk in and I could tell by the look on their faces the shit cloud had hit them. Who am I kidding, Mat Damon could smell this fucking thing up there on mars!
If it had been a couple of blokes walking in I would have puffed out my chest out and proudly claimed it as my own. But my vanity kicked in, "sorry about the stink ladies, I think the fat, bald prick on court 3 is actually dead, or at least he's dead on the inside."

some more satisfied customers

good squashing 

squash godfather

That's a rip off

Confessions of a squash court manager

Episode 24

That's a rip off

Thursdays, my favorite day of the week. I finish early, head to the golf course and give my old my mate fossil a lesson in the finer arts of the game of golf, and it's also the start of my well deserved 3 day weekend....Oh I do love Thursdays. 

So it takes a lot to piss me off on a Thursday, but shit happens!

"Hi guys how are you going on this lovely Thursday?" I asked the two guys who had just entered the Corleone Squash Center.

"How much to hire a court?" asked,(lets call him number one), in a tone that said I'm an arsehole...stay calm squash godfather...it's Thursday remember.

"Twenty five dollars," I replied.

"Give us a court for an hour", number one said. No please or thanks, just a kiss my arse attitude.
He throws over the money, "cheers guys go down to court three." I said

They headed off  around to the courts, but were back at the counter a few minutes later, attitude written all over their dopey faces. Here we go I thought.

"Where's the gear?" asked, (lets call him number two) with the same lovely manners as his mate number one.

"What gear?" I asked, trying to pretend I didn't know the bloody obvious...just to piss them off.

"The fucking racquets and ball," he said, clearly agitated now.

"Oh that gear. Well if you haven't got your own you will have to hire it from me." I said, trying not to smile.

"How much will that cost?"  he asked.

"Twenty one dollars, and you get to keep the ball. What a bargain Hey?" I said.

"Bargain, that's a bloody rip off." They yelled in unison.

"Well tough titties. That,s the price, like it or fucking lump it." I said, bracing for a verbal onslaught.

But no, to my amazement number one threw the money at me, and said "Give us the bloody gear even though its a fucking rip off." I hand over two racquets and a ball and once again away they went.

Fuck me, what now, number two was back waving two bottles of water at me, "where can I put these to get them cold?" he asked.

"How's about the fridge in your kitchen at home?" I said.

"What about this one?" he said, pointing to my two door drinks fridge, standing there in all its chilly glory.

"Sorry mate, it cost money to keep that air cold. Why don't you take those drinks home and buy a couple of icy cold ones off me?" I said, with a content written all over my face.

"This place is a bloody rip off." he said again. Then once again stormed around to the courts..hopefully for the last time.

Two more happy customers..

Good squashing

Squash godfather

thats outrageous

                                                    Confessions of a squash court manager
                                                                         Episode 23

That's outrageous

There I was having a lovely Tuesday morning, soaking up the sweat and stale beer smells wafting from the club room carpets at the Corleone Squash Centre.

My peace was interrupted when an old, not Fossil old, but mid sixties old, comes in brandishing a badminton racquet. I hate restringing these flimsy excuses for racquets, give me a tennis or squash racquet, they take some breaking.

"do you restring badminton racquets?"  The elderly fellow asked, pointing to an obviously broken string. 

Strange, I thought I'd taken my sunnies off, why else would he think that I was fucking blind!!

"yes I do" I answered, " But with two non negotiable conditions." One, due to the possibility of internal fractures, if the racquet breaks during restringing it's bad luck. Two, it must be paid for upfront, no refunds." Tough but fair is the squash godfathers motto.

"How much." He asked.

"Forty dollars." I said.

I could almost see the cogs ticking in the old guys head desperately trying to scramble a sentence together, old age isn't it fucking wonderful?

"That's outrageous!" He finally managed to spit out. " How can you possibly justify charging such an outrageous price?" He screamed. 

I feel an episode coming on for this old prick, I mean, two outrageousness in the one sentence.

Taken by surprise by his sudden change from elder statesman to angry old prick, I was almost lost for words......almost!

" How much do you usually pay." I asked, still in shock, but recovering fast.

"I've never had a restring before, this is the first." He said, in a much milder tone, probably noticing the steam coming from my ears.

" Well how the hell can you tell me my price is outrageous? Like it or fucking lump it granddad."

I said, trying desperately to maintain my cool calm demeanour.

"I'll think about it," he said walking backwards towards the door.

Another happy customer

Good squashing

Squash godfather 

4 minutes

confessions of a squash court manager

Episode 22

4 minutes

I was having a hit later today, and as I had been having a bit of calf trouble I dropped into the local chemist warehouse to purchase a pressure bandage...How hard could it be?

The doors opened at the local Chemist Warehouse at 8.30 am, I walked through the doors at 8.32, first customer of the day....where's my early morning discount?
They had no calf bandages but I thought a knee one would do the job, the only size was large, must be like condoms..one size fits all.

I went to the check out and was greeted by a slightly dim looking elderly Italian woman, full of good cheer and happiness, NOT.
"G'day love just  these thanks". I said, handing over the bandage and some hair wax; to keep the silver locks looking their best! " How much is the Polo Ralph after shave?" I asked.
" $29 for the small, $69 for the large," grunted dimmy.

I paid for my stuff and left the store. Just outside I sat on a chair in the food hall opposite and tried the bandage on for size, Just in case. Shit it was to big. I had thrown the receipt in a very large, very deep bin in the food hall, but as I had just purchased it and had the bag, how wrong could I go?

I walked back into the store and as dimmy was busy I went to one of the assistants,
"Hi, I just purchased this bandage and it's too big, I would like to swap it for one of the elbow braces please." I asked in my most pleasant manner.

"Do you have the receipt?" she asked

"No I threw it in the bin,out there," I said, pointing out to the food hall.

"I'm sorry, but we do need the receipt to ensure that you actually did buy it from here." she said, sounding rather smug.

"Hang on, its in the original box, in a chemist warehouse bag, and it was only 4 fucking minutes ago. Lets check with the old Italian duck on the check out who served me, she'll remember me for sure."
I was getting annoyed.

We went over to dimmy, and the assistant asked, "Hey Marilyn do you remember selling this bandage and wax to this guy earlier this morning?"
Dimmy looked at me then at the 2 products.
"No I don't recall selling those or him" she said.

"What are you talking about, I bought them four bloody minutes ago, AND I asked you the price of the Polo aftershave, $29 for the small, $69 for the large, you told me." I was about to blow my stack!

"I'm sorry sir, I don't remember serving you."

"OK, wheres the camera, this must be a joke or a funniest home videos set up, surely, no one could be that bloody dopey." I asked. No reaction, this was real.

"This is crazy, I literally bought it  4 fucking minutes ago, what are you a gold fish?" Now I was really pissed!

"Where's the manager." I asked....yes, I pulled the old, wheres the manage card... I had to!

The assistant raced to the safety of the back office, returning several minutes later looking very relieved."We have checked the sales for the morning and found the record of your purchase,you may swap it over." she said, in a thank god lets get this fucker out of here tone
Great they were able to trawl through all 5 transactions to find mine...well done.

Good squashing
squash godfather

The Nut Case

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 21

The Nut Case

Well who would have thought me, the squash godfather could instill so much anger and hostility in a person...I use the word person very loosely when talking about this nut case.

Mrs squash godfather and I went  for my weekly torture session at our local squash centre. Upon arrival I noticed playing on one of the courts was the nut case, he had recently lost a bet to me, so I tapped on the glass and said, "don't forget to give me that lotto ticket before you leave."
He immediately burst into an expletive laden tirade that I would have been very proud of, and stormed off the court.

"You fucking cheap good looking bastard," 

Despite his anger he couldn't help but notice the obvious, he's only human.

"You fucker, you owe me fifty bucks." he said as he swung his racquet toward my face,NOT THE FACE!

He was pushing and trying to grab me, and thinking he was about to whack me, my inner Jack Reacher kicked in. (For people unfamiliar with Jack Reacher, he is author Lee Childs famous one man wrecking crew character, amiably played by Tom Cruise in the movie REACHER.)
I digress, if I faked left then moved right I could land a crushing blow with my right elbow into his left cheek smashing teeth, splitting lips and tongue, very effective.
Or I could  leg sweep him at the same time pushing him full force in the chest, sending him crashing backwards, winded onto the floor, cracking  his skull and rattling his obvious peanut sized brain,  nasty but nice.If you get my drift.
Alternatively I could launch myself with extreme propulsion from my massive thighs and land a flying head butt smack into the middle of his fucking ugly face, crushing facial bones and  if possible making him even uglier. Nice option!

In the end I opted for my most effective weapon. I gave him my meanest stare and told him to act his fucking age not his penis size. Works every time. 

The squash godfather is a lover not a fighter.

Good squashing

squash godfather

Just pick a time

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 20

Just pick a time

This happens to the squash godfather quite often and it really pisses me off.

Yesterday I got a phone call from some bozo wanting to book a court at the Corleone Squash Center.

"Good morning, Corleone Squash Center, squash godfather speaking, how may I help you?" I said, trying my best to sound enthusiastic on a Monday morning..

"Yeah g'day mate, I am looking to book a court today, what times do you have available?" the bozo asked.

"What time are you looking for?" I asked, thinking to myself, oh no not one of these fuck wits again.

"What times do you have available?" Bozo asked again.

Trying to remain calm I replied, "look, its much simpler if you tell me what time you want to play and I will see if there are any spots free at that time." ...pretty fucking simple!!

"We're not sure what time we want to play, just give us some options."  

Holy shit, how hard is it to pick a time, does he think I'm a fucking mind reader.

"Well its pretty quiet most of the day until 4," I said.

"Nah that's too early, I was thinking later."

That's it, he had worn me down. I had been to nice for too long. "Look mate you're sapping my strength, either give me an exact time or I'm hanging up."

"Well I'm not sure...."   

Clang, I hung up the phone. Lifes to bloody short.

Another satisfied customer

good squashing

squash godfather

I don't want bloody water

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 19

I don't want bloody water

Day League. Two dreaded words that send a shiver down my spine, had come around to Corleone Squash Center again. I arrived at work prepared for battle, my tongue  was razor sharp!

I should say at the outset that most players are great, but the ones who aren't are fucking miserable.

Two women had finished their match and were at the drink fridge choosing their desired beverage.
As is the protocol in squash, the winner has the honour of buying the loser a drink.
"This place is a disgrace, where's the bloody diet Gatorade?" I could hear one of the women (I use that term very loosely) saying at the top of her whiney voice. "Every time I play here there's a problem."

"Whats the problem Connie, why don't you just grab a bottle of water." Asked the victor, trying to calm her now very angry opponent down, who's obviously a bad loser.

"I don't want bloody water, I want a diet Gatorade," said the loser, now turning her anger onto the squash godfather...silly woman.
 "Where's the diet Gatorade?" she yelled at me at the top of her voice.

"We don't carry diet Gatorade, but we do have diet Pepsi, Solo light and water," I said, in my most charming voice.

"I don't want any of those." she spat, "I want diet Gatorade!"

"Well then, you're out of luck," I said, desperately trying to maintain the charm.

"That's not bloody good enough, I want a diet Gatorade," she spat again, this time with real venom.

That was it, I had had enough of this crazy bitch, it was time to unleash the tongue, "Look, I've  told you what drinks I have, if none of them are good enough, bad luck. Please, piss off." I said, this time without the charm.

"You can't speak to me like that," she said. "That's the worst customer service I've ever experienced.You should  listen to your customers without saying anything." she said...obviously delusional.
"You must be mistaken me for someone who cares? I don't. So like I said before PISS OFF."

She turns around, grabs her squash bag and walks out of Corleone Squash Center, without saying another word.......Fucking miracles do happen.

Her opponent, who was still standing in front of the fridge, turns to me and says, "what a crazy bitch"  Great, I thought it was just me...phew.

Another satisfied customer

Good squashing

squash godfather.

but we're members

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 18

"But we're members"

Two casual members walk into the Corleone Squash Center on a very chilly July Wednesday morning.

"Hi squash godfather, any chance of a court,? he asked, with a smirk on his dopey face.

"I can see that you are flat out, but I'm sure you can find a spare court for 2 of your finest members."

I think he was trying to be funny, it wasn't working, but as there was no one else in the place, it's pretty bloody obvious that there is a spare court.

"Wow Tom you are so fucking funny, that's the first time anyone has said that to me, how long have you been waiting to use that line?" I asked, trying to maintain my cool, calm demeanor. "$8 each please," I said, grabbing a tenner from both. "Here's your change, you 2 comedians go onto court 3."
They grabbed their change and headed around to their court, trying to think of a snappy come back, maybe in an hour they may have one, I doubt it.

I gave them an hour and a half, bloody good value for $8, then turned the lights on their court off.

"Hey what's going on, the lights have gone out," an irate Tom said dripping sweat on my beautiful clean counter.

"You've been on for an hour and a half, times up." I said.

"But we're both members," he said with a tone of defiance.

"That's why they didn't go off after an hour," I said, with a similar tone of defiance.

"We haven't finished our game yet."

"Well it's going to cost you another $8...each." I said, flopping down into my chair.

He turned and walked away without saying another word. A minute later he returned.

"Here's the money," he said, slapping $20 down on the counter."we're not happy squash godfather." he said as he stomped off back around to his court, which  miraculously had the lights back on.

Show me the money , I will show you the light.

2 more happy customers.

good squashing

squash godfather

it's not me it's you

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 17

it's not me it's you

SGF: Hey squash racquet you haven't been hitting very good shots lately, whats up?

Squash Racquet: The problems not me, it's you, your useless!

SGF: What do you mean it's not you, it's me? It has to be you, I'm good!

Squash Racquet: Well, I am just graphite and string, pretty bloody simple. The problem is  a no brainer, you have no skill, you hit the frame more than the strings. So like I said, it's not me, it's definitely you.

SGF: That,s crazy, I have been playing brilliantly, it's the fact that my opponents have well behaved racquets, racquets who know their place in the world. Not like you!

Squash Racquet: I wont be held responsible for your lack of talent on a squash court. My twin brother, who came from the same factory I did, two minutes after me in fact, has not lost a match, because his you has talent.

SGF: I dont believe it, you were probably the runt of the batch, and I was unfortunate enough to pick you from the shelf. If I had picked one of the others I too would be a winner. But oh no dopey me, I chose the runt, the sales person really did a con job on me, when she said "No they are all the same" and I believed her.What an idiot.

Squash Racquet: That's it, we should have a break from each other. I want to be in the hand of someone who knows how to use a racquet, not some bozo who thinks he does but really doesn't. 

Your main problem is  you keep me in the closet too long, you don't take me out enough.

SGF: Fine, let's split. I will use other racquets, I'll show you. I will probably win the up coming club championships, with a younger, newer, sleeker model in my hand. You have been holding me back for years.

Squash Racquet: Good luck with your new racquet, I hope you will both be happy. I am a firm believer that a good tradesman doesn't blame his tool. 

Unfortunately you chose me, I didn't chose you, I had no say in it .So through no fault of mine, I got lumbered with a loser.

SGF: Loser! Who are you calling a loser? Before you came into my life I was a winner baby, slotting knicks you can only dream about. Life was amazing, I didn't have a care in the world. Then one day tragedy struck. I hit her too hard on the wall and she snapped, it was over, I had no choice but to throw her in the bin. 

That was a sad day, that's when you entered my life, I haven't been the same since. 

That fateful day at Jim Kidds when I met the runt.

Squash Racquet: You just summed it up, you hit the wall with her, another classic miss hit. As I said, it's not me it's you! Put me back in the closet.

nice try

Confessions of a squash court manager

episode 16

nice try

I cant blame anyone for trying to get something for nothing, hell, I try every trick in the book to scam a bargain. However this dickhead tried to scam me! the bloody squashgodfather, how fucking stupid can a person be?

Lets call this dickhead Vito. Vito brings his racquet in to the Corleone Squash Centre for a restring.

"Hi squashgodfather can you restring this in Technifibre for me?" he asked, handing the racquet over to me.

"No problem Vito, the question is are you good enough to need such top quality string? you could probably get away with some cheap old fishing line" I said with a smirk on my handsome face.

"You really are an arsehole? Just do it ASAP... Please." He said.  

"Will do, it will be ready tomorrow. You don't get awesome service like that anywhere else do ya?

"Yeah with a mouthful of  abuse thrown in, that's great customer service." he said heading out the door.

"Fuck off." I yelled at his back as he crossed the carpark.

I cut the old strings out of Vito's racquet and as requested restrung it in Technifibre, the king of squash string. Waste of good fucking string on Vito,if you ask me, but the customer is always right...Oh yeah!

Once finished, as always, I did a thorough inspection of the racquet and made a note of any chips, scratches or other defects. Just in case of trouble later. 

Vito's racquet had a couple of small but distinguishable chips at about the 2 o'clock position on the head. I noted these in my file, and my mind!

2 weeks later Vito comes off court and shows me his racquet, the strings were broken."whats going squashgodfather, strings break after 2 weeks. That's not good enough." he says slamming it down onto the counter.

"Calm down," I said, grabbing the racquet off the counter and having a quick look over it. There was something not quite right with  it even though it looked the same. I reached down and took out my notes and flicked through to Vito's job. Sure enough the 2 chips at 2 o'clock had disappeared. Hallelujah its a miracle! Turns out shifty Vito had 2 of the same racquets, and this was the other one.

 "Nice try Vito, get your wallet out"

another happy customer

good squashing

squashgodfather

shut up

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 15

                                                                            shut up

 This little event happened to the squashgodfather during the twilight years of his illustrious playing career. I was playing in A reserve, one grade down from the big dicks in A grade.

After 30 odd years of playing and reffing I was pretty case hardened and not prepared to take any shit, on or off the court.

It was a typical cold winters night at the Kings Park squash club. I had played my match, thoroughly kicked my opponents arse in 3 and was now reffing the next match of the night. Things were trotting along quite peacefully until the Kings Park player asks for a let. "No let" I said. The player carried on, obviously in agreement with my decision, tough shit if he didn't..

Suddenly a muffled "that's shit" came  from the old joker standing to my right, who was obviously there to watch his Kings Park mates get their arses whipped by the Corleone boys. I let it slide....but it was mentally noted.

"Let please" came another plea from the Kings Park guy.

"Yes let" I said. Once again comes a muffled "bloody hell" from the same old prick.

This went on for some time, him bitching under his breath about every one of my decisions.

"Let please" the kings Park player asks...again.

"No Let, I don't believe you would have got it." I said with an air of importance.

"Shit, that's a terrible decision." said the  muffled spectator. I snapped, I had had enough!

"Stop" I shouted at the 2 players, 'We have a change of ref , this dickhead standing next to me is obviously an expert, hes in I'm out." I said stepping back away from the hand rail. 

The old guy had a look of terror on his face, and he was desperately trying to speak, "Argh sorry,please I cant" he spluttered.

"Are you going to keep your trap shut? and let me make the decisions." I asked. He was nodding his head so hard I thought it might fall off. 

There was not another peep from the old prick all night , and I really tested him with a few dodgey decisions to really piss him off....I'm evil!

Good squashing

ssquashgodfather

good catch

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 14

good catch

This episode happened several years ago when the squashgodfather was a slightly leaner meaner fighting machine than he is today.

I was busy getting the Corleone squash center into its usual tip top condition for the day ahead, when I heard the bell go off signalling that some one had come in. I was just finishing up mopping the showers, so yelled out "I will be there in 2 secs" I finished the showers, put the mop in the bucket and headed out to the reception.

To my shock I saw some bastard running across the carpark carrying my cash register. Mine, the squashgodfathers . What an arsehole!!

 I immediately burst into action, without concern for life and limb and took off out the door and across the carpark after him. With amazing speed I caught up with him down  the far corner of the carpark, he had a look of sheer terror in his eyes, for he new he was trapped by the squashgodfather!

Suddenly the trapped animal spun around and as if tossing a medicine ball,  threw the bloody register at me. 

I had a split second to make a decision; the mega brain started to crunch the numbers:

1. catch the cash register and let the prick get away, or 

2. don't catch it and grab him....expensive!.

My inner tight arse kicked in and I caught the cash register. Great catch I might add, as the bloody thing weighed a ton!

good squashing

squashgodfather. 

one minute

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 13

one minute

I know this may sound very strange, but sometimes things happen to the squashgodfather outside the confines of the Corleone squash center which make me go; what th?

One such, what th, moment happened  when I phoned the local golf course ( I wont mention any names, to protect the stupid) to make a booking.
My old, very old, bloody ancient in fact, golfing mate and I thought it would be a nice gesture to give the folks at our local golf course the opportunity to see our silky golfing skills for a change. We have been spoiling the hackers at  a neighboring course for far too long.
Bye the way, when I say our silky skills, I actually mean mine!

"Good morning, Local golf course, how may I help you?' answered  the young woman when I called to make a booking.

"G'day love, I'm looking to book a round of nine  holes in next Wednesday morning at 8.45 for 2 of golfs finest."

"I'm sorry sir I can't get you in at 8.45.' She said with a tone of complete sincerity.

"Oh, that's no bloody good," I said, "whats the next opening time you have for nine holes,? I asked, hoping to get in some time before lunch.

"Well I can get you in at 8.46,"  she said, without the slightest hint of humour.
I paused as I eagerly awaited the punch line, but one was not was forthcoming, this doping bird was serious.

Holy quacamole what was she thinking....one whole minute, shit forget that, that's way too long to wait! "Great love, I'll take it,book us in" 

good squashing

squashgodfather

mates

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 12

mates

This particular episode was funny to me, probably due to my warped sense of humour!

A car pulls into the carpark of the Corleone Squash Center CSC, and 2 guys get out and start walking toward the entrance. They are obviously mates, both about 35ish and are talking and laughing with each other as old mates do, and they came in the same car!

"Hi Luka, how are you going?" 

One of the guys happens to be one of my members, a bit of an arsehole if truth be told.

"Hi squashgodfather, I've bought my mate Sonny in to give him a whooping." 

He said looking cockily at a not so impressed Sonny. 

"What court can we go on squashgodfather, hows about the show court?" 

Fuck no, I don't know about his mate, but Luka is a total hacker, certainly not the type of player I want to use to promote the game of squash.

"You've got to be kidding, surely? I will hide you guys as far away from the viewing public as possible, go down to court 6."

"Have you been told today that you are a real areshole, squashgodfather.?" 

He said with a tinge of venom in his voice.

"Let me see, whats the time, 11am. Yeah 3 times today already, your the 4th. Court 6, fuck off."

Away they went, down to the dungeon that is court 6, safely tucked away from public view. All seemed to go pretty well, I could hear a few yells and a bit of arguing, which is totally normal for a game of squash, you should hear the whinging that comes from my opponents.

"Give me 2 Gatorades will ya squashgodfather." 

Asked Luka, who by the look of anger on his face had  been beaten by Sonny and was subsequently buying  the drinks.An awful feeling I hear, hasn't happened to me in 40 years of playing squash!

"How was the game Luka?" 

I asked,  knowing not very good since he was buying the drinks.

" Shit house, I played like total crap, his best shots were my errors!"
Sonny chimes in, with a big toothy grin on his face. 

"I think it is a true reflection of our various abilities, I'm good and your fucking useless." 

Touche Sonny I thought.

Whack, Luka had suddenly and unexpectedly punched his mate! with a lovely crisp right cross, landing flush on Sonnys cheek. Instantly Sonny reacts and grabs Luka in a head lock and they were in to it.
I raced around the counter and pushed them towards the door, trying to avoid any stray fists. I managed to get them outside then left them to it. They stopped fighting pretty quickly once outside on the driveway, mores the pity, as I had my chair and popcorn ready to watch  Thats my warped sense of humour coming through. They dusted themselves off and headed to Lukas car, for what I am sure would be an interesting trip home.

Luka has never bought Sonny in for another game of squash....funny that!

2 more happy customers

good squashing

squashgodfather

16 beers

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 11

16 Beers 

"Hey squashgodfather you've got a pretty fit and athletic figure?"
nice bloke, I always thought  Vito was a top fella.
"for a guy your age."
arsehole!  
"How do you do it?"

This was an interesting question coming from Vito, who has been a regular once a week squash player for many years. However over the last couple of years I have noticed his guts appears to be getting bigger each week. Not a very good advertisement for the corleone squash center CSC!
 "Its not easy Vito, I maintain a very vigorous exercise regime, one which a normal human would find hard to even attempt."

"What about your diet" He asked desperately looking for an option rather than doing any extra exercise.

"Well I have a pretty normal diet, but I do enjoy a couple of beers mid week with my nightly dinner, and on the weekend I cut loose and have 3 or 4 and some wine." I could see his jaw drop, obviously hoping that I maintained this Adonis like physique on a strict diet of lettuce leaves and water.

"You call that cutting loose?" He said with a look of sheer amusement. 

"Why,  how much do you drink?" I asked him.

"During the week Monday through Thursday I have at least 16 stubbies, and more on the weekends."
Holy shit !  I am amazed he even has a  pulse, and I bet that's not sweat on his forehead but pure fucking beer.

"You must be bloody joking? 16 stubbies at least every night, that's your problem Vito"
I now realize its probably not his stomach that has grown, but his fucking bladder.
"Try cutting back to an even dozen a night, the weight will fall off you." NOT

Pearls of wisdom!

good squashing

squashgodfather

the glass

confessions of a squash court manager

episode 10

the glass

If you are unfamiliar with the Corleone Squash Centre CSC, it has 7 state of the art glass backed courts and 2 concrete backed ones, quite ahead of other centers in quality squash facilities I must say!

Anyway, this particular episode happened on a very busy Thursday afternoon, I had had another victory over my old squash partner, lets call him Davo. I use the term squash partner very loosely, as I have to give him 2 bounces, play only length and use my left hand...just to get a sweat up.

So I was basking in my winning after glow when suddenly, BANG, "What the fuck is that?" I said, although stunned by the noise I new exactly what it was. I raced around to the courts where my worst fears were realized.

Two fat guys were standing on the court with stunned  looks on their dopey faces, staring at the shattered remnants of the toughened glass panel.  I had a feeling these two fucking elephants were trouble when they waddled in. If you are unfamiliar with toughened glass, when it breaks it sounds like an explosion.

"What happened you guys?' I asked.

"I lost my balance and ran flat out into the back wall." With that fat guts I'm surprised he didn't go through the opposite courts glass as well. "Which court can we go on to finish our match?" Fat guts asked, surrounded by chunks of glass scattered all over the passage. 

"Sorry guys as you can see we are fully booked and now that you have trashed this court we will be juggling courts all night."

"Thats bullshit."  the fatter of the two dopes spat at me."We have 15 minutes left to run on our time, either give us another court or give us a refund." 

Normally in this situation I might have offered a refund of the remaining time or a free beer, the squashgodfather is known for his generosity! but as it was only 15 minutes and I couldn't believe their attitude, they were getting fuck all. 

"As I have already told you I cant help, as you can see we are flat out, what I can do though is get your details so I can send you the $1000 bill to replace the glass" They couldn't waddle out of the place fast enough......

Arseholes!

good squashing

squashgodfather

the beast

Squash Godfathers

Confessions of a squash court operator

Episode 9

THE BEAST

Thursday 10AM, a time that for a six week period sent a shiver down my spine.

A school had booked the courts at this time to give their little darlings a taste of the fantastic sport of squash. The shiver came from visions of past groups of lovely year tens who had been to the Corleone Squash Centre and tried their very best to trash the place.

Thirteen what a shitty age, they are too old to be cute but too young to be fucking sensible. So I watch the little pricks like a hawk.

I do a thorough inspection of the Centre before the darlings arrive, then once they go I do a quick run around to see what they have managed to trash.

This group thankfully turned out to be a well behaved bunch, nothing broken, stolen or tagged, miracles do happen.

However, upon entering the male toilets what I saw in one of the bowls has mentally scarred me for life. I thought a massive fucking python was sliding out of the toilet bowl.

I turned to run for the door, but stopped and took a quick look back at the beast.

Closer inspection revealed that it wasn’t a python, but the biggest fucking turd I had ever seen. No joking, it was as thick as my leg!

 I couldn't believe it, it seemed impossible that a fucking horse could sneak in, take a shit in my toilet  then leave without me noticing...bloody miracle .

I did a quick dash around the centre to see if the horse was still there... no horse!

Oh no! I suddenly realized it was up to me to deal with the beast.

Don't get me wrong, I’ve dealt with my fair share of shit disasters left behind by well meaning arseholes at the Corleone Squash Centre, but this fucker was on a whole other level.

My first thought was to leave it for the staff to deal with..Yes I am a cruel bastard. However they may think it was me who gave birth to the massive turd.

No choice, I had to man up and deal with it!

After five flushes it was still there, the fucking thing would not sink.

The amazing thing, apart from its sheer size, was the fact that there was no toilet paper in the bowl...interesting. I hope the little prick bites his nails!

The poor old toilet brush was totally out muscled, it was like taking a pocket knife to a gun fight, it just wasn't up to the job (pardon the pun).

This turd required some heavy duty machinery, possibly a back hoe or jack hammer, maybe both. After considerable chopping, hacking and dry reaching, it finally went down. Thank fuck! The beast was gone.

Once I had showered and sterilized myself, it dawned on me that only one kid had asked permission to use the bathroom. He was a skinny streak of misery, no fucking wonder; he had just shat out his whole fucking insides, possibly including his bones. It was amazing that he was still able to stand let alone walk! Surely whoever did that inhuman thing would at the very least have split their arsehole. He looked fine, if not a little proud of himself.

A week went by, I had forgotten about last week’s python episode. 10AM, the school came and went same drill as last week.

 Oh my god there it was, another giant python was sticking out of the toilet bowl a fucking carbon copy of last week. Again no paper! Interesting...I couldn’t bloody well believe it.

 My mind started racing, hold the phone, it was that same skinny streak of misery who asked to use the toilet AGAIN!  The skinny fuckers not human, he’s either the anti Christ or his old man is part python.

The last four weeks of their booking the toilets were strangely out of order.

The little loose arsed prick can die in someone else’s toilets, I don't need the paper work.

good squashing

squashgodfather

sweet spot

confessions of a squash manager

episode 8

sweet spot

This guy, I shall call dick head, had been pissing me off for some time. I had had words with him on a couple of occasions for his language in front of the kids  here at the Corleone Squash Centre CSC for the Saturday morning juniors. 

Dickhead, had left his racquet for restringing the previous Saturday and had picked it up this morning.
After he finished playing, dickhead comes up to me at the counter and appeared extremely angry.
"Hey I don't know what the bloody hell you've done when stringing this racquet, but there's no sweet spot anymore, you've completely fucked it up."
Lovely bloke, obviously got his arse whipped.

This was my chance to show this tosser just how much of of a tosser he was. "Give it to me."
I said, grabbing his racquet and heading to the court.
The squashgodfathers silky skills didn't let him down, and I was able to reel off  paint tight drives, soft touch drops, smooth volleys and finished off with trade mark, forehand cross court smash, into the nick. Roller!  Master class.

Satisfied the sweet spot was there, I walked off the court and held the racquet up.
"Sweets spot's there as large as life" I said touching the strings. "Problem is you cant find it. Give me a minute and I'll draw you a map, you may need a compass"
Dickhead snatches the racquet from me and storms out of CSC.

another satisfied customer

good squashing

squashgodfather