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.