Oh, I remember when my cousin tried to copy that one Egyptian forehand after watching a grainy video on his uncle’s phone—we were all laughing until he broke our only good racket against the mango tree. Now I see villages there probably don't waste time on fancy coaches; they just hit the ball against any wall that stands, like we mend our own baskets without waiting for anyone from the town. It’s not about some grand plan from Cairo, I think—just loads of kids with nothing better to do and a ball that doesn't need a permit. Makes you wonder what we’d produce if our own government stopped blocking the supply of new squash balls.
#squash
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