As an athlete, one of the key factors that determines a game experience is the crowd that is there watching. With a season of very few home matches and a lot of traveling, home court advantage was not something the squash team experienced frequently this year. While memories of our rowdy home matches are some of my most treasured, much of our season is played far from Hanover, away from the cheering excitement of the Dartmouth faithful.
Completely unbiased, our Dartmouth fans are some of the best in all of collegiate squash, starting with the fact that they actually show up to matches — at many other schools we have played at, this is simply not the case.
Based on my experience, it is not the heckling that is difficult to play in, but the complete lack of it. No question, I would take being heckled at a rambunctious away match over a match devoid of fans of either team.
This may seem counterintuitive — why would you possibly choose to be cheered against over neither team showing support? The answer to this is quite simply about energy. For many sports, the cheers or chirps can be lost due to the size of the arena. The tiny, glass-encased box of a squash court, however, generally accomplishes the opposite. Echoing and amplifying what fans say between points, squash courts are the perfect place for fans to actually be heard. While heckling can be distracting if you let it, it can also energize and, ironically, encourage us. Instead of wanting to merely beat your opponent, you also want to silence your hecklers. This year, in between matches, one of my teammates voiced her desire to “crush” in the next game so her opponent’s boyfriend watching from outside would, in slightly kinder words, be quiet. Needless to say, the tactic worked.
Saying that we are without fans at away matches, however, is hugely inaccurate. Our teammates are from all over the country, so many of our away matches end up being closer to our players’ families than our home matches are. Incredibly faithful Dartmouth squash moms and dads, then, become our dual snack providers and loyal cheerleaders. As a player who is not from the East Coast, I especially welcome this extra support, even if I am a little jealous.
Along with parents, we often also see alumni at away matches. Hands down, I have to say that these are my favorite fans. We saw the most alumni playing against Columbia University. My freshman year, I remember playing at Columbia at these strange courts that are pretty removed from campus and thus far from any fans, pro-Dartmouth or not. Columbia was just an emerging team, and the match was an easy 8-1 win for us. Little drama, few fans, very little excitement. This year, however, was a completely different story.
In a matter of two years, Columbia had become the team we were most concerned about beating. We had pumped ourselves up for this match all season because we needed to win it to compete in the Howe Cup, the final tournament for the nation’s top eight teams. After a low-key freshman year game against Columbia, I did not expect a crowd turnout but was blown away when we arrived to courts overflowing with Dartmouth alumni. Fan-wise, we outnumbered Columbia by an impressive ratio, boosting our desire to win. After clinching our closest match of the season 5-4, I was overwhelmed by the support that I felt from multiple generations of Dartmouth squash.
Home or away, I am often struck by how many people help to make the engine of our team run smoothly. On campus we have strength and condition coaches, DP2 advisors, faculty advisors, nutritionists, athletic advisors and innumerable other people who help push us and support us as athletes. During competition, however, those who help advise, strength and improve our team are also, most fundamentally, transformed into our fans. While being in a tiny box with the closest thing to a mortal enemy can feel like some sick modern version of gladiator battles, knowing that I have the support of my teammates, my coaches and my Dartmouth fan family motivates me to keep fighting.
Inside the Locker Room is a weekly column, alternately written by Phoebe Hoffmann ’15 and Sarah Caughey ’15.
