The player who runs the most ... loses

I played squash for the first time in England almost two decades ago. I was working in a London pub and needed an activity to sweat off the extra pints of lager.

Such British pursuits as rugby, soccer and cricket were out of the question -- all are team sports in which I had little experience or interest. Instead, I wanted a game that delivered a vigorous workout, required little planning and offered refuge from the fickle English weather.

Then a friend introduced me to a game that fit the bill -- squash. My tennis background enabled me to pick it up quickly -- enough, at least, to sustain decent rallies with the plum-sized ball. Courts and competitors were easy to find, and leisure time back then was plentiful. Most important, the game never failed to provide a shirt-soaking workout.

After six months, I returned to the United States, and that was the last time I had my hands on a squash racket. Now, many years later, I had decided it was time to reacquaint myself with the game, so I sought a lesson from Bob Hanscom, the longtime squash pro at downtown’s Los Angeles Athletic Club. Although I’ve changed quite a bit over the years, the game hasn’t. After 45 minutes, I left the court exhausted, wringing out my shirt and perfectly content.

“You don’t get fit by playing squash,” said Hanscom, who like many of the nation’s best players learned the game on the East Coast. “You get fit to play squash.”

Squash, thought to have been invented at an elite English prep school, is played by millions today in more than 120 countries. In the United States, the game has a small but very loyal following, concentrated mainly in the East. In fact, there are probably as many squash courts in New York City as in all of Southern California.

According to the U.S. Squash Racquets Assn., based in Bala Cynwyd, Pa., 95% of squash players are college graduates, nearly 70% play at least three times a week, 34% earn more than $100,000 annually and 13% are either corporate presidents or chief executives.

It’s easy, then, to see why your best chance of finding a squash court is at a private club with an upscale clientele -- such places as the L.A. Athletic Club and Jonathan Club in downtown Los Angeles, the Sports Club/Irvine and the Spectrum Club Canoga Park. Public courts are limited, but they are available at such places as the Stuart M. Ketchum Downtown YMCA and 24 Fitness’ Glendale Super Sport Club.

After handling a squash racket again, I was reminded of how strange one feels in relation to its tennis counterpart. The squash racket is about as long as a tennis racket, but lighter and narrower, and it has about half the hitting surface. The ball was equally unfamiliar, especially since I’d also played a fair amount of racquetball. The soft squash ball is practically lifeless compared with the chipper tennis ball and the hyperactive racquetball.

Hanscom, a robust man of 67, started with the basics: rules, technique and strategy. There’s no net, as in tennis, but instead something called the tin, which performs a similar function and makes a distinctive “ping” sound when you hit the ball too low. The idea is to keep the ball below the red lines, which start at 15 feet on the front wall and gradually descend to 7 feet at the back wall. Even if the ball grazes the lines, it’s out. After some tips on proper grip and stroke -- all heresy to a player used to the stiffer arm required for tennis -- we played some practice games.

For me, the game was a lot of chasing the ball around the court. Stopping and starting. Sprinting and running. Stretching and reaching. Racquetball prepared me somewhat for the side-wall bounces and other strange paths the ball would take. Even so, tracking the squash ball took plenty of getting used to.

Although in racquetball, players can let a ball pass them and smash it coming off the wall, the same shot is extremely difficult in squash because of the poor bounce of the ball. Hanscom advised me to volley balls rather then try for an off-the-wall shot, which, even if successful, is usually weak shot.

It was on a few of those “weak” shots that Hanscom introduced me to what a “nick” is. In racquetball, it’s known as a “kill” shot, but in squash, a nick occurs when a player hits the point between the floor and the wall, producing a ball that doesn’t bounce for an instant winner.

As the lesson wore on, I remembered how physically challenging running around a rectangle could be. It demands constant movement, not to mention grace and finesse. Even though I warmed up before and stretched later, my legs were sore for a couple of days.

We played four games as Hanscom, who has been teaching squash for 40 years, demonstrated the value of controlling the center of the court. He barely worked up a sweat. I, on the other hand, demonstrated the veracity of an old squash joke: The player who runs the most loses. Even so, the lesson was great fun and a terrific cardiovascular workout.

It’s no surprise that Southern California, with abundant outdoor activities, is no squash mecca. Still, you can easily locate a place to play by visiting www.socalsquash.com, the Web site for the Southern California Squash Racquets Assn. The association lists more than two dozen court locations, public and private.

Lessons, which typically range from $25 to $55 for 45 minutes, are harder to come by at public courts, because they rarely staff squash pros. Private instruction at the L.A. Athletic Club is available to members and prospective members for $30 for a 45-minute session