The end of an era

CATHERINE MURPHY

WHERE DO I begin, or should I say end? A lifetime of wonderful memories at the Petrotrin Staff Club has been cut short.

I am fortunate enough to be able to play a sport that I love dearly, have basically loved my entire life.

I remember being a teenager at Naparima Girls, with a tennis court in our school, seeing the court, wanting to play, but too shy at the time to make my way onto the court, and from that tender age, knowing that I loved the sport, without ever having hit a ball.

I was always athletic, tomboyish and tough. I grew up with my three brothers playing everything from football and cricket to volleyball.

So when I got the opportunity to play lawn tennis in my first club, Promenade, I jumped at the chance. I was coached by the popular Harry Mahase, who then sent me to one of the best coaches, then and now, Lennox Francis, a name synonymous with the Guaracara Sports Club.

I spent a few years playing at Guaracara, training in the hot sun, doing drills, playing with the other beginners under the bright lights.

I then moved to Skinner Park and spent most of my tennis years there, occasionally playing at the Petrotrin staff club, until I became a member about ten years aback and moved there full-time to continue my tennis.

I have many wonderful memories of not just tennis at the club but I was fortunate to have my daughter attend St Peter’s for eight years, which is located on the compound. I went to the gym on occasion and used the pool many times with my daughter.

My daughter also took swimming classes at the pool for several years with Mr Sankar and his team. I took my daughter for years to golf coaching with Mr Davis. She played in several tournaments at the club. I walked on so many occasions on the 12th, 13th and 14th holes with her for practice, sitting on the iron bench under the mango tree, struggling as we climbed to make it back up to the top of the hill, in the fading evening light, playing alongside all those familiar faces.

She recently re-started her coaching on the golf course, under the guidance of a new vibrant coach, with a number of junior players coming out to play, a great encouragement for the waning sport.

I played tennis on the clay courts and it always reminded me of being on Maracas Beach – beautiful and scenic. The pine trees hovering over the tennis courts, the rise and fall of the water of the lake I witnessed year after year with every change of season. There were also:

The beautiful sunsets as I played into the night, the squawking of the parrots as they landed on the pine trees on an evening, the flight of the birds overhead, the lights of the refinery that gave such beauty to the landscape, the comradeship of playing a sport that my fellow tennis players and I all love, the fun, laughter, friendly and sometimes fierce competition, the inter-clubs, friendly banter, the thrills and ups and downs of the game, the relaxation and enjoyment of playing a sport, the adrenalin rush, the indescribable feeling of exercising and what it does for your soul, your mind, your body, the only place where you could feel totally safe and secure, not a bother in the world as you connected with the ball, the players, the environment.

The limes by the club after tennis, the golfers coming in from the greens on an evening, congregating at the bar, the thousands of players who have traversed that golf course over the years, the many competitions that have taken place on the greens. The children and parents swarmed around the pool on an evening, parents diligently taking their children for swimming classes or just a casual dip in the pool, the thousands of children who have passed through the compound and learnt to swim and compete at all levels, representing their schools; the zumba classes at the club, the sounds of the squash court players next to us, the walkers, runners, joggers, boot camp participants, the thousands of athletes like me who used the club, now displaced, homeless.

Words are inadequate to express the loss, hurt, sadness and anger that thousands of us feel at having this snatched away from us, cut short, ended abruptly, unexpectedly, no words, no explanations, no dialogue, no conversations, no feedback.

Nothing but Amalgamated Security guards at the gate to let us know we cannot enter anymore – the club is closed. The ground staff fired, locked out, sent home, the tennis courts locked, our membership fees paid for the year, but not a word as to the future of the club.

The secrecy, the mystery, the shrouding of everything in a blanket of unanswered questions, the high-handedness, the arrogance, the swipe of a pen and lives are changed forever, no concern or care of the impact to thousands of athletes, aspiring sports people, coaches, players, adults and children alike, all meted out the same fate.

And why? Why should we have to suffer for the ill decisions and poor judgments of a government that failed at managing what belonged to us? Why do we have to suffer the ultimate price? Where is the justice in this? Where is the thought-out, constructive planning that could have prevented this catastrophe from happening? Why must I feel like I’m grieving for the loss of something that is so valuable and precious to me? When are we going to get answers about the future of the two clubs that have been shut down? Why are we not deserving of an explanation?

You have come like a thief in the night and caused destruction and havoc, sneaked out undetected with your stolen items and have disappeared back into your coffered offices. You have stolen from us, from me, my peace of mind, a chunk of my happiness and passion and love for something that cannot be replaced.