Horsham Masters Tournament July 25-27, 2025
Stupidity? Senility? A very late mid-life crisis? It’s been just over a week since I decided to venture back out into the tournament scene, my first attempt in… testing my memory here… must be August of 2019. Back then, I thought spending a week in a half in Miami during the hottest part of the summer where the humidity was so horrific one needed scuba gear just to walk the streets, was a magnificent time to play an international squash masters event. Didn’t think that one through.
Wasn’t thinking much here either. I’ve been back in Melbourne for just over 2 months now, and nothing struck me as more attractive that to grab my good ol’ squash buddy, Chris Barned, and haul his hindquarters about 300 km northwest into the expanse of the Victorian countryside and spend a weekend reliving our long forgotten youth playing a squash tournament in the do-not-put-on-your-tourist-bucket-list metropolis of Horsham. In the winter. During a monsoon. Yes… I’m a genius.
I really did not know what to expect. Squash-wise. I definitely knew what to expect social-wise, as both Chris and I, re-connecting after 23 and a half years, continued on as if that time gap never happened. And, being a Masters tournament, socializing is an expected part of the gig, an essential part of the gig, and I have to admit it was refreshing to actually play a squash tournament and not care terribly much about the results. We cared that the beer was cold, the crowd accepting, the laughs genuine. We met a lot of delightful people, and the two organizers - Michelle Rowles and Darren O’Neill - made us feel extremely welcome. I am no stranger to organizing squash events, so I am fully aware of the work and time that is sacrificed. I sincerely tip my hat and wholly appreciate their efforts and result of their labor.
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| Phil Taylor, me (!), Chris Barned |
That being said, I still wanted to win. The only other player in the draw that I knew was Chris. Unknown entities can work both ways and I’m not in exactly the best shape of my career, so I was fractionally nervous going in. Furthermore, one is somewhat more cognizant of the risk (and fear) of injury, so body preservation was a priority. I don’t need to desperately channel my inner Miguel Rodriguez and dive for balls anymore.
Battling my first opponent on the Friday night helped neutralize some of the doubts. It also neutralized my nerve endings, as it was quite possibly colder inside the center than out. Not all the rain was kept on the outside of the building either, throwing more obstacles in the way, but everyone goes with the flow (pardon the pun) not taking ourselves too seriously. My first tournament match and win in 6 years, I won 3-0, and was thrilled to partake in the post-match tinnie, wishing I had a stubby-holder to avoid the onset of frost bite to my fingers. At least the shower at the roadside motel was warm, and once the blood flow to my extremities had returned, Chris and I wasted no time in meeting up in the motel “party-room” with our fellow participants afterwards and making ourselves comfortable next to the esky.
My Saturday match went very similar to Friday’s. Happy to be standing upright without any significant damage, another 3-0 escape, and an another brewski to celebrate. In fact, regardless of their on-court results, everyone was unconditionally chuffed to celebrate late into the night. An excellent live band at the local golf club kept the party hoppin’, great food and company, these are the moments why these tournaments are popular. It’s simply a damn good time.
Sunday meant finals day. I was feeling pretty good considering, my body holding up better than I expected. I was looking forward to a tough final. Cameron Penna is from Bendigo, hits the ball way, way harder than I do, runs way, way faster, and is way, way younger. Undoubtedly, he is way, way smarter too, so the only trick I had up my skinny sleeves was experience. It worked for a while. I was 2-1 up, but I knew at the end of the third game that my day was done. Unfortunately, my body wouldn’t cooperate and Cameron - as he should - took full advantage, showed me no mercy, showed the ref no mercy, and made quick work of me in the final 2 games. At least I made him take his Geelong top off. Savor the small victories, right?
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| Cameron Penna murdering another forehand |
So maybe I wasn’t quite 100% ready for a tournament, but no regrets. I would absolutely recommend and repeat the mission. Hanging out with Chris all weekend was something I missed terribly from days past, and it’s times like this that moving back to Australia was irrefutably worth it. If you haven’t experienced a squash event like this before, if you are sitting on the fence, let me push you solidly over the edge. Do it. Enjoy life. And if it’s in Horsham - take some gloves, scarf, winter jacket... and a stubby holder.
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| Division 1 winners and finalists. I'll open my eyes next time. |
