John and Howard decided to play squash. This happened in the UK, where John was a native and Howard was an American ex-pat on corporate assignment in England.
Howard was an A-rated racquetball player from the U.S. Low to the ground, extremely good lateral speed and a command of the court were his keys to success. He had heard that John was a competitive player, and was curious, due to John's appearance of slovenly slothfulness.
For example, John looked like a lot like "Father Christmas", a jolly fat man, his face, livid from years of drink, was framed with pure white unkempt whiskers and eyebrows.
Howard had been a minor league baseball shortstop for a summer during college.
John huffed even when he was sitting, due to his wicked cigarette habit and his preference for great quantities of Indian food washed down in beer.
Howard was type-A competitive, regardless of the playing field, he needed to be number one in everything he did.
John, with his forehead and thinning hair showing off a perpetual sweat sheen, always had his eyes at half mast. His mouth could have been opened or closed while John breathed, but his moustache and beard hid his teeth and lips. Yet, John's mouth was not well camouflaged due to the tobacco and curry stains.
Howard, fastidious about his body, showered at least twice a day.
John soaked in the bath once a week, for a long long time, same as most Brits his age.
A note about squash: The court is very similar to a racquetball court, but a little smaller. The squash racket is longer than a racket ball racket. The racket is very light and can be swung quite readily even from the wrist. The ball gets faster during play, as heating from compression expands the gas within the ball, making it hit racket and wall with greater force. So, the longer the rally the more difficult the task.
Howard lost the first game 9-1, got his one point because John slipped. But, after adjusting the wing tip shoes he was wearing, John proceeded to win the next two games 9-0 and 9-0 which decided the best of 5 match.
John spotted Howard 6 points and then beat him 9-6, 9-7, 9-6 to decide the best of 3 matches.
Afterwards, at the squash club's pub, I'd never seen Howard quite so upset.
"Howard", I asked, "How did you like John's play?"
"I've never been so out-matched in my entire life. He didn't even change his office work clothes, and beat me in dress shoes. He just stood in the middle of the court, reached everything I sent his way, and put it where I couldn't reach it. It was amazing and awesome but I'm not happy having been beaten this badly", shared Howard.
"John, how did you enjoy playing with Howard?", I prompted.
Never one to utter an extra syllable, "Fine", was all John said, wiping the beer foam from his moustache on the sleeve of his button down white oxford cloth shirt, with the distinct ring around the collar, and sweat stained pits.
"Howard was impressed with your play, do you have anything to say about his game?"
John hesitated for quite some time, gathering his thoughts. Soft spoken, but always diplomatic, John was obviously considering his answer with great care. Finally, his generous cheeks grinning even more fully now, he made the longest speech he ever uttered in the 8 years I worked closely with him:
"Howard hits the ball very hard."
