Dear Editor,
Like going rounds with Tommy Hearns, the body blows just keep coming. This year alone; Bobby Fernandes, Colin Ming, Billy Fung-A-Fat and now Ron Hughes. No mas! There is only so much we, the Guyana squash family, can take. No mas! Dr. Ron Hughes, architect of the modern junior squash programme passed away peacefully this past Wednesday in Ottawa, Canada. Few people under the age of forty probably know his name even within our close-knit squash circle. Ron was a Canadian diplomat specializing in international aid as well as a passionate squash player and coach, who first came to Guyana in 1982. At that time, there was not much of a squash community given the dearth of players lost to emigration due to the challenging economic times. His tenure in Guyana was short – less than five years in total – but his impact was not. His influence spawned multiple generations of elite players and turned Guyana into a regional squash powerhouse. Of all the shoulders of giants upon which we all stand, his was, by far the broadest. Ron was way ahead of his time. His knowledge, techniques and process are still being used today. Using the ultimate metric of success, you can draw a straight line from Ron Hughes to multiple national senior and junior champions. As a student of history and a strong believer in better understanding where you came from in order to better know where you are going, there is no current player, young or old, whose game has not been influenced directly or indirectly by his coaching methods or practices. While Nicolette Fernandes never trained directly under Ron, (Richard Chin and I were direct disciples) she had graciously shared with us a few years back that the paths we forged and barriers we broke gave her the confidence to craft her own remarkable career.
Our squash fraternity has taken many losses recently. Each loss hurts in its own way, but for me, this one is especially painful, because it is personal. Very personal. Most of us in life have a few people who in some way have strongly influenced or dramatically altered the natural trajectory and/or outcome of their lives; usually no more than a handful. For me, Ron Hughes was one. He single-handedly created and engineered the first part of my squash career to unparalleled heights. I believe more than anyone during his time in Guyana, I benefitted the most. He brought out the best in me. Ron organized and managed three tours to Canada, of which I made two. He was a well-known coach in Canada but wasn’t particularly embraced by his Canadian colleagues and the players for injecting a random bunch of backward island interlopers into their clubs and into their game…much less to contest in their tournaments. Yet, never daunted, he persevered. Along with his new wife Diba, he organized a final month-long tour to Canada including playing the Ontario provincial and Canadian National championships in Spring 1989. I managed to win the Ontario provincial tournament beating Steve Eastwood in the finals. And then there was a two week break before the season culminated with the Canadian Nationals.
Word then quickly spread that I could cause some trouble to the more favoured Canadian seeds. Canadian national coach Rene Denis was quoted in the press as saying I should not be allowed to play the Nationals (the following year I was barred from playing). When the draw came out, Steve Eastwood was seeded three. I was nine. I was not protected in the draw despite having beaten Eastwood two weeks earlier. Ron was increasingly getting flack for our presence there. For those of you who are familiar with how seedings work in a knockout format, my seeding of nine was theoretically the hardest seed of the draw, as for me to win, I would have to go through the numbers 5, 3, 2 and 1 seeds respectively in successive rounds starting from the rounds of 16. The Canadians said it was just circumstance. We thought it was by obvious design. Never deterred, Ron was convinced there was still a way forward. I was less convinced. But Ron had the wisdom, experience and patience to handle someone like me and figure out how best to optimize whatever innate talent and work ethic I possessed. He was equally adept at figuring out how to communicate with me off court with regard to game strategy, psychology and even meditation to get me best prepared for tournament play. For I really didn’t know what I was doing as I was only a kid. I just followed his instruction. He told me to run, I did. He told me to do speed work, I did. He told me to do calisthenics, I did. He told me to taper my training, I did. I followed him blindly . . . but all the way to the Promised Land. I became the first non-Canadian to ever win their hallowed tournament and with it knew it gave him great satisfaction and fulfillment having taken someone from nothing to the pinnacle of Canadian squash in less than seven years.
It is only with time, some maturity and a dose of humility, one gains perspective in life. The summer between my Yale and Oxford tenures, I had reflected on the fact that much of the successes in my life had a straight line pointing directly to Ron Hughes. I penned a long and thoughtful letter to him expressing my deep gratitude for the path I was lucky enough to embark upon. But I never heard back. Then in c. 2017, I was contacted by a representative of the Guyana Squash Association to convey that they wanted to establish a Guyana Squash Hall of Fame and I would be considered to be among the first class of inductees. While a flattering honour no doubt, I replied that I could not in good conscious enter in a class, unless Ron was also going to be inducted, and, he would be inducted before me. So I would therefore defer to the second class. The arc of history is long, but it will always bend towards Ron Hughes. Without Ron Hughes, there would simply be no Roger Arjoon to induct. I was lucky enough to reconnect with his wife Diba earlier this year after a 30-year gap. Among the many stories retold, Diba floored me with the statement that of the thousands of players who passed under his watchful eye over a 60 year career, he had always said that he was most proud of and excited about . . . me. I never knew. How could this be from a man I have not spoken to since I was 17? How could I have lost a relationship which clearly meant so much to both of us? I also learnt he never received the letter I wrote twenty-five years earlier. Now, time and poor health would unfortunately deprive us of one of life’s more treasured moments. For me, it was a time to wonder as well as to weep.
Ron Hughes started as an outsider looking in. He came to Guyana at a time when everyone else was leaving. He believed in us when we didn’t always believe in ourselves. He fell in love with this country, and then with us. He asked for nothing in return. He married one of our own. He named his son Guy. He ultimately became one of us. But now we have lost yet another family member who we are all proud to call our own. No mas!
Sincerely,
Roger Arjoon
