Playing Alone: Why Squash Is the Perfect Solo Sport

There’s something profoundly different about solo sports compared to team sports. When you step onto the court alone, there’s no one else to rely on, no one to pass the blame to, and no one to carry you when you’re off your game. It’s just your thoughts, your body, and your will.

Squash is the perfect example of this. Even when you’re training, you can be completely by yourself, hitting against the wall. It’s one of the few sports where solitude isn’t a limitation but the whole point.

The beautiful thing about hitting the ball down the wall is the relationship you develop with yourself. If you make a mistake because your previous shot was too good, it means you forced yourself into that error. That’s a victory in disguise. And if you manage to retrieve that ball hugging the wall (the kind of ball most people would break a racket on) then you’ve just expanded what’s possible for you.

Either way, playing a point against yourself always leads to something positive. If you miss, it’s because your attack was great. If you get it back, it’s because your defense was even better. There’s no need for frustration. It’s your aggressive and defensive selves battling in harmony, sharpening one another.

You can build patterns down the wall for hours, taking short, focused breaks, creating a rhythm that becomes almost trance-like. It’s physically demanding, yes, but it’s also mentally cleansing. In that glass box, with the echo of the ball and your breath, you escape from everything else.

It’s meditation on steroids.

I had the privilege of seeing this art form at its absolute peak. While coaching at a country club in America, I had the rare opportunity to be surrounded by some of the best players in the world. The women’s world number one, Nouran Gohar, lived in the area, and the men’s world number one, Paul Coll, often trained and visited the legend Zac Alexander when competing in tournaments around New York and along the East Coast.

Zac himself was a world-class player and coach, someone whose depth of understanding of the game elevated everyone around him. I had the honor of working with him, and through him, I was introduced to these world champions. It was a pivotal moment in my racket sports world. Watching Nouran, Paul and Zac train... seeing the precision, focus, and intensity they brought to every ball down the wall was all I needed to appreciate this sport even more.

Standing there, hearing that unmistakable rhythm of the ball echo through the court, I knew every decision I’d made to go to the States for racket sports was worth it. Every sacrifice, every hour spent alone on court, every moment of self-doubt it all led to that instant of clarity.

Squash, in its purest form, is a mirror. One that reflects your patience, your discipline, and your pursuit of perfection.