ROB OWEN
“I came back into squash around 2010 with a player called Chris Ryder. We met, he asked me to coach him, and I helped change his game.
At first, I worked with what you might call the ‘England Squash Rejects’: players outside the system, unusual or difficult characters.
Not difficult in a bad way – simply people the system didn’t know what to do with. That’s where I cut my teeth, and it was brilliant.
Working with players who are already at the top can be easier. If the next world number one comes to you, what are you really going to change? Almost anybody can coach someone who is already that good.
It is much harder to take a player ranked 100 or 150 and make a real difference. Jamie Haycocks was about 95 or 100 in the world when he came to me at 28, and I got him to 50. That’s hard.
For Jamie, reaching 50 in the world was a great achievement. He was a lovely guy who simply loved playing. Some people might call number 50 a failure; I viewed my own career as a disappointment despite reaching roughly the top 20. But I loved seeing Jamie enjoy that achievement and extend his career.
Nathan Lake was around 135 when he came to me, after being released by England Squash. I was told he would never make the top 100. He ended up beating top-30 players and became a very good player. He had been playing in completely the wrong way.
Joel Makin came to me young and that worked out very well. George Parker was another interesting character.
Chris Ryder was similar. Joel Hinds was a lovely character. Brad Hindle – the Maltese Falcon – was another wonderful character. Olga, his girlfriend at the time, was lovely too. I was surrounded by these great characters.
I had all these supposed rejects whom other people found difficult, and I found them fascinating.
I like interesting, colourful characters. I don’t want boring people. I want them to express themselves.
For seven or eight years, I learnt my trade with those players. Everyone I coached got better – literally. Some were ok and became very good. I made a difference, and that’s what you try to do as a coach.
“It was real fun”
Perhaps we weren’t quite serious enough at times, but that may also have helped. The players were relaxed and enjoyed it. I gave them a lot of information, and we socialised a lot together – probably too much at times!
Then it became more serious. I thought, ‘God, I’d better take this a bit more seriously.’ People such as Paul started coming to me from abroad, and that was another fascinating period.
Getting Paul to world number one was something I was very proud of – proud of Paul, really. You don’t achieve that by yourself as a coach.
A player has to be selfish. A coach has to be selfless,
A player has to be selfish. A coach has to be selfless, because you’re helping somebody else and it has to be about the player, not about you. I am very conscious of not making it more about the coach than the player.
People may say I’m well known, but I couldn’t give a shit about that. I really couldn’t care less about what people think of me. I just want the player to do well. That’s my job, although I don’t see it as a job. You do your best and hope it’s enough.
