John Allenby woke from his nightmare.
He was drenched in sweat. His tee-shirt was
wringing wet and stuck to his body.
He had vivid flashbacks of a bad dream in
which the glass court was being wrecked by machine-gun fire.
He rubbed his eyes as the persistent ring
of his mobile phone roused him from his bed.
It was the call that changed everything.
It was Shelley.
“John, listen.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve just had a call from the top. From
the Brazilian government. Are you by the court?”
“No. I’m in my room.”
“OK. Get over there now and I’ll be with
you in ten minutes.”
Shelley hung up and zipped up her light-blue
leather jacket. John threw some clothes on without bothering to shower.
Ironically, when he reached the venue he
began briefing the court crew on keeping the glass immaculately clean.
He always groaned when players wiped their
sweaty hands on the back wall, causing big streaky smears to appear on
the
glass.
Gone were the days of towelling strips on
the shorts, he mused.
Shelley attracted the usual attention
enjoyed by a glamorous woman in her mid-30s as she crossed the road and
entered
the arena.
Men used to seeing the vast array of flesh
on display on Copacabana Beach still admired the style and poise of a
fully-clothed female.
She found John and grabbed his arm to usher
him to a quiet corner of the arena. Event staff continued to get
everything ready
to welcome their first-night guests and the garishly-dressed dancers
prepared
for their rehearsals.
Tonight, a mini carnival was about to embellish
the arrival of world-class squash to Rio.
“You won’t believe this,” she said, as she
and John climbed the bleachers to find a spot where they could not be
overheard.
“A firestorm is about to break out here in Rio.
“Things are so screwed up here in Brazil
ahead of the Olympics and the government are beginning to panic. One of
the new
football stadiums has been shut down for safety reasons, before it’s
even
opened, because the roof has failed a safety check.
“You know how passionate the Brazilians are
about their soccer. It’s a major embarrassment on all fronts, and the
government are worried that the rest of the world will start sneering
at them,
saying they’re not capable of organizing the World Cup and the Olympics
one
after the other.
“Not only that, but the papers are full of
stories about the dangers of women travelling on public transport.
“A young woman was gang-raped on a bus
yesterday, just three miles from here, and her boyfriend was forced to
watch,
after being smacked over the head with a crowbar.
“The
tourism guys are worried that it will stop people from travelling to
Brazil,
and the IOC are worried it will have a knock-on effect with lower
ticket
sales. They also think it might frighten
sponsors away.
“In the end, it all comes down to money.
Everything does. Always.”
John had listened patiently.
“Why do I suspect there’s more to come,” he
said.
Shelley nodded. “OK, wait for it. This is
where we come in. Golf is about to be kicked out of the Olympic Games
because
the course will not be ready in time. The IOC have asked squash to come
in and
fill the gap, four years ahead of 2020. But nothing will be announced
until we
can prove we’re capable of doing it.”
John’s face lit up.
“That’s incredible,” he said. “How did you
find out?”
“I know the right people,” she said,
failing to reveal that she had taken a call from the president of the
IOC
himself to check on squash’s readiness to step into the breach.
“We are back to our original position,” she
said. “We must make sure this event is the biggest thing ever in
squash. We
need everybody onside and we must make sure the players deliver. The TV
needs
to be spectacular. We need to convince the big American sponsors that
we’re not
just a pastime for rich college kids on the east coast.”
“Right.” John nodded. His brain performed
cartwheels as he weighed up all the options.
The various criminal elements attaching
themselves to the event would have to be warned off. The rules had
changed. The
goalposts had been moved. Squash was ready to take its place in the
Games
alongside the big boys.
And a tournament of this magnitude would surely
convince any doubters that squash deserved to be there.
This new development put John Allenby and
Shelley Anderson firmly in the spotlight.
It was Allenby’s turn to talk.
“We can handle the squash. The event, the
players, the staging, that’s easy. That’s what we do. But we need extra
security to stop anything from going wrong.
“Too many nasty people have attached
themselves to this tournament and we need to keep them away. Any ideas?”
Shelley smiled her imperious smile.
“I think you’ll find much of it has been taken
care of. With the government so keen to make this a success, security
is obviously
a top priority.
“Unlike the Brits, who screwed up so badly
by outsourcing security to the private sector at the London Olympics,
the
Brazilians will simply call in the Army.
“As we speak, it’s already happening. Look
around and you will see that they have already brought in extra troops
to
patrol every part of the city.
“They want total lockdown to stop anything
going wrong. Nobody gets in or out of any Olympic venue without a
security
check. And the same goes for the squash arena.
“Our friends with the guns are already
packing up and leaving town.”
As Shelley and John concluded their
discussion, players began arriving to practise on the glass court.
+++
John Allenby returned to his hotel room to
shower and shave.
He chose grey slacks and a cream jacket for
the evening’s opening ceremony. He thought about going open-necked,
but, with
so many VIP guests, including government officials and leading
sponsors, he
thought a tie would be the safe option.
He could always take it off if he was the
only guy wearing one. He chose a new pink tie, bought in a January sale
in a
favourite store in London’s Piccadilly.
He smiled to himself as he prepared to
welcome one special guest. He had always been a big fan of Gloria
Estefan, and
tonight she would be singing just for him.
That’s how he felt, anyway.
For the first time in his career, he had
been given the budget to put on something truly spectacular, and Ms
Estefan was
his first choice to sing at the opening ceremony. Luckily, she was
available,
and the fee was agreed.
She was flying down with her backing band
to perform for 30 minutes before the squash began.
That moment was about to arrive and he
chuckled as he thought of the opening lines of one of his favourite
songs.
“Sometimes it’s hard … to make things
clear.”
He always cracked the same joke to himself
as he focused on those first three words. “Story of my life,” he
mumbled.
He nodded to himself in the mirror as he
smartened up, ready for show time.
+++
More than 1,000 spectators crammed into the
venue as the big night began.
The crowd went wild as the dancers paraded
into the venue, with booming music and a spectacular laser show.
Gloria Estefan performed a magical set on
the stage at the front of the court, and it was the proudest moment of
John
Allenby’s life as he kissed her on both cheeks and took the microphone
to
announce the first competitive match in the 2014 Rio Beach Classic.
Local TV crews fought with the squash crew
to get the best vantage points. John hoped the TV stations would focus
on the
squash, as well as his favourite singer.
Fittingly, the first match featured the top
seed, Karim Bashir, the world number one from Egypt.
One of the most talented players in the
history of the game, he had been unbeaten for almost a year.
His opponent, a young English hopeful
called Tom Sharp, put up a great show, diving all over the court to get
the
ball back as Bashir entertained the crowd with an astonishing display
of racket
skills.
Mixing power with touch play, and with a
brain able to invent new shots seemingly at will, Bashir won
comfortably in
three games.
Wearing a yellow tee-shirt saying ‘Bashir
loves Brazil’ he had won over the crowd as soon as he set foot inside
court.
To the local squash fans who understood the
intricacies of the game, he was a superhero.
To many of the guests in the crowded VIP
stand, and other newcomers to the game, he put on a show that won them
over in
the first few rallies.
Some had heard that squash was boring.
Bashir proved them wrong.
Two more matches followed, with victories
for Frenchman Jean Tresor and England’s Jimmy Evans. Tresor would be
facing
Bashir in the next round, with Evans waiting to see who would win the
final
match of the evening, between American Steve Ennis and the Brazilian
wild card,
Carlos Oliveira.
The crowd stayed to the end and their noisy
support helped Oliveira raise his game. He pushed Ennis all the way and
at
five-all in the fifth the American began to cramp up.
After a brief injury break, Ennis returned
to court and was unable to maintain the tempo required to close out the
match.
Oliveira stepped up his game to win the
decider 11-6. He would be sharing the headlines next day with Bash the
Smash.
+++
As the crowd filed out of the arena, a
laser show lit up the hotels across the beach.
The party would continue back at the hotel,
with a special reception in the ballroom.
Shelley Anderson was schmoozing the room in
one amazing sweep. Charming the money men, showing earnest interest as
she
talked to local politicians about developing squash through local
school
programs, she also did her best to convince the small group of IOC
delegates
that squash was ready to step up four years early.
The Brazilian squash federation was the
biggest immediate beneficiary now that the sport had been admitted to
the 2020
Games.
Local officials were all decked out in new
blazers, ties and chinos.
Clearly some money was finding its way into
the game now that squash was an Olympic sport, even if it went to
purchasing
fashion items ahead of building new courts in city centres.
But Shelley had news even on that score.
It was her turn to grab the microphone and
talk to the guests.
“The Rio Squash Festival, held in advance
of the professional tournament, was such a huge success that a new
12-court squash
club is being built as part of the Olympic sports centre.
“The centre will have a permanent glass
court and the World Tour is helping to recruit the best coaches in the
world.”
Smiling at friends and guests from US
Squash, she added: “The Ivy League colleges at last have some
competition from
south of the border when it comes to recruiting top coaches.
“It’s all part of our Total Squash World
Plan and Brazil is leading the way with the world’s biggest tournament
taking
place here in Rio alongside a major development program.
“This is not just a one-off. This will be a
fabulous annual event and we will grow the game alongside it.
“With Olympic status leading to increased funding,
we aim to double the numbers of players worldwide to 40 million.”
Shelley received a standing ovation.
John Allenby greeted her with a glass of
champagne and a hug.
“Well done. That was great.”
Shelley smiled, took a welcome sip from her
champagne flute and looked around to make sure no one was
eavesdropping.
“The hard thing is making sure that the
funding goes to the right people, and is not syphoned off by
governments,
federation officials and middle men.”
John nodded. So many times he had seen his
ambitions of holding major events thwarted by incompetent and corrupt
politicians, not to mention small-minded local officials who had no
idea how to
grow the game.
Finally, he was putting on the biggest show
the game had ever seen. With Shelley by his side, they made a great
team.
Despite so many issues threatening to stall the event, squash was finally in the big league.