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I am not particularly used to praise - mainly because I dont get much of it, and neither do I expect it. Please don't be misled - this is a good thing. The less you expect from it, the more focused you are on the job, the actual job, you are. You learn to draw more from the task, rather than mere salary or the half-hearted pat on the back at 530pm from the boss, when he and everyone else characteristically start to leave the office.

Well I was praised. And it was for my footwork. Fine. Tip of the hat and we move on.

And I started to put some old memories back together again. I told you those creepy black book diaries would come in handy one day.

It started in secondary school - SJI. And i was playing my first official squash match. Just as how i am into tennis now, i was SOOOOOOO into squash then. I believed it was epitomy of evolution. That god played it and was probably a favorite past-time of jedi and ninja and wizards alike. (Picturing that is actually FUN. And cool.)

I was playing against this short fat indian called Gunalan. By the way those 3 adjectives are completely unrelated. I am ashamed to admit it was a close match. But i was leading by 2 pts. The score was 5-3.

I'll save you the technicality. Basically, he lobbed the ball over my head. And I, being the ambitious bloke i was, reached over my head, with my arm well behind me and tried to smack that black ball down. The only thing that came down was my arm, limp and my racquet dropped to the floor. The captain, Joel, was keeping score and he called it like he called anything he saw. None of us knew what had happened.

Gunalan beat me 9-6. I lost my ranking match and my subsequent one against Alvin Goh.

Afterward, i realized that despite my long arms, I was now shackled by this lingering injury. The dislocation left my shoulder sore and unable to take a full swing. This lasted for about 3 months. Instead, I had to focus on running. Running down every shot and getting close, bcos I couldnt use my arms to cover the last 30cm.

I made it a point to beat the shit out of Gunalan in every subsequent match we played. He never beat me again after that.

Into JC, there was no squash team. Instead I blindly joined the fitness club and the table tennis club. The table tennis club consisted of 6 of us. It was never going to get us anywhere. 6 pple is too small to post at an interschool tourney. But it was here that I learned to recover my reach. Admitedly, a pingpong bat is easier swing around than a squash racquet, so I learned to use my long arms again, and it was here in ping pong that I learned how to "flick" at a shot instead of rotating the shoulder in case it came flying out of the socket again.

The fitness club was basically a glorified gym group. We didnt do much expect mild training and hanging out at the grand stand. And the occasional floorball session, where i strengthened my forearm, smack at that small plastic ball with one arm. This in turn, minimized my reliance on shoulder rotation in my ping pong. Double whammy.

Joining NUS, zs, max and I were thrown into the badminton craze. We'd hijack the badminton courts at night (1130pm around there) and play until our shirts were soaked. It was crazy, stupid and fun. And I dislocated my shoulder several times doing it.

It was here that I learned my achilles heel - any swing that required me to swing my arm over my head. According to the doctor, there'd be a 90% chance of me dislocating it whenever I swung over my head. I never asked him to prove the calculation though.

And then max decided to pick up squash and to me, it was a return to something which seemed long forgotten. The strokes were rusty but still there. The "flicking" technique from ping pong and floorball helped with disguising dropshots. And the badminton had beefed up my lunging and sprinting ability.

But max is a defensive player and at that time, he was still fit. Dont forget he was the second fastest runner in the class, losing only to pk bcos god substituted his brains for a damn fast pair of legs, i guess.

It was here that i began developing my footwork. All the flicking and mad dashing was pointless if the opponent was always going to get it back. The footwork and movement came as a decision to take what I had (flicking and bursts of speed) and disguising it.

And I took it and applied to tennis.

The heel turn at the T to disguise the squash drop shot became the tennis forehand setup. The lunging drive at the corner became the angled drop volley. The squash punched drop volley turned into the standard tennis volley. All of it came from there.

So there is my footwork manifesto. This wouldnt have happened if Gunalan hadnt lobbed me that day. Damn u Gunalan, and your fat black ass.