I had an unusual win on the squash court last night, and it gave me hope for the 2024 election.
My opponent was higher rated than I am by a significant degree. He played squash at Princeton and is a decade younger than I am, and I was sure he’d win. I even sent him an email before the match saying it might be like “shooting fish in a barrel” for him. He came out in practice hitting smooth, consistent rails down both sidewalls. I was pretty sure I was toast.
My only goal for the match was to do something unusual: Slow down. I tend, under pressure, to rush, to swipe at the ball and make errors. I realized that if I slow down my swing, there might be less power in each shot, but there’s more consistency. Against this guy, I had to be consistent and stay in longer rallies or he’d wait for me to make mistakes of my own. Because I was slowing down, I had to be more patient than I usually am. Instead of trying to hit cheap winners I had to wait him out until he hit something less than perfect. Since he was very consistent, he hit a lot of perfect shots. But in an unusual development, so did I. Our rallies went on for a very long time, in comparison to most games I’ve played.
It was a breakthrough match for me. He won some points, yes. But because I was calm and patient and consistent, he got rattled. I couldn’t believe it at first. Still, he hit more balls into the “tin” (which means they were out because he was inaccurate). I won the first game. He won the second game. I was sure he’d win the third, but I doubled down. Instead of rushing under pressure, I committed to my strategy. I played very patient squash. He lost the game 13-11 in a tiebreak. I cried out, “yes!” and then apologized.
“Sorry mate,” I said. “I yelled because I couldn’t believe it.”
He was very nice about it. In the fourth game I was sure, again, that he’d win it to draw level and then take the fifth. It’s a scenario I’ve been through many times. You get a cheeky game against a better player, then they punish you for it. By the time I was up 9-5 with two points to win the match, my head was very noisy.
“You might beat him,” I was telling myself.
And…
“F__k!”
I was as excited as the first time I snogged a girl at a disco, outside the church hall, as a kid. The bit when you’re walking outside and you’re certain the chances are good. You’re nervous. You might blow it. But what if you don’t? Could this happen? Oh. My. God.
If anything, I was more excited than that. I’m almost ashamed to admit how crazy the buzz was. Still, I was telling myself I would most likely lose. Many of the best players will tell you they can be up at match ball and then tank it. Many of the best players go through the exact scenario many times in their careers. I’d been interviewing one of them about this exact scenario the day before, in fact.
I found my strategy was too complicated in my mind. I was telling myself “Slow down, be patient, wait, wait, then chop him.” But I shifted to, “slow down and follow through.” I needed to stop the noise. I took some deep breaths before serving and told myself “Quiet.”
Shaking Princeton’s hand after taking the match, I told him I felt bad win against such a good opponent. He’d also been polite and fair—we were both very honest about calling double-bounces, and so on. He even complimented my performance and I apologized again because I’m English and that’s what we do when we’re confused. Afterwards, I told my team coach how I’d done, and he complimented me, too. Then I texted my entire squash team and a few of my squash mates. They were all thrilled for me and could hardly believe it either. It took me ages to get to sleep last night.
But enough about squash, for now.
The insight I have for the 2024 election is that everyone is nervous. In 2016, nobody was nervous. We were sure Hillary Clinton was going to win. When my head was noisy during the final points, the main thing I was hearing was, “you can still blow it.” And yet by committing to my strategy and respecting my opponent, I won. In fact, winning feels almost exactly like losing, all the way along, until you do it. So, the noise is normal. The doubt is normal. It’s better to be sure you might lose than to be sure you might win. The only thing that matters is the result. And it’s March. It’s nice to have had this unexpected victory before Easter. Who knows what might yet happen this year?
—Matt Davis is a communications consultant and writer for a wide variety of clients. He also teaches yoga and lives with his wife and son in New York.
