A professional squash tournament is shaped by whoever brings the greatest focus. Two gladiators face off in an unending struggle when both are at their peak. Given the lighting, with the audience in the dark watching through one-way glass from all directions, there is little to distract the participants during a rally. Most of the time, each opponent can feel where the other is. Everything centers on each instance of a moment. The focus is total; eyes, hands, stance, swing, and mind.
When one of the participant’s mind wanders on the squash court, it shows. The feet are not where they are supposed to be. The hands and swing are out of sync. The stance ensures that one will not be able to move as one should if one wants to win the point.
A recent match should have been over a lot quicker than it was. Everything pointed to the dominating player in the early parts of the match going on to the win. The presence on the court was there. The shots and shot selection was incredible. Focus and physical readiness were extraordinary. Everything was in place except for the capitulation by the other player.
There was a moment you could see in hindsight where everything changed. It was as if she heard the Psalmist words “Don’t blame us for the sins of our parents. Hurry up and help us; we’re at the end of our rope,” (Psalm 79.8) and decided that the answer of what came next started within. Excuses were abandoned. The emotions of the lost game before were tossed aside. She started to look outside for help and then realized that help was already present in the lessons, support, and training that had left their marks on her mind and body.
It was awe-inspiring to watch. What seemed impossible turned to a change then a possibility, and then something that everyone seemed to believe was inevitable. It was as if she was marked to win.
The foundation for this moment has been laid. The moment needs us, if we are willing.