The thing I find most difficult to master about squash, apart from actually winning, is concentration.

Where was I? Oh yes, concentration.

The top professionals swear by it, which is why they glide through British Opens while I am getting walloped in the first round of the Mixed Handicap at Luton.

Good players really work at concentration. They furrow their brows and focus their grey matter on the immediate problem facing them, which is rarely some peripheral concern such as whether the showers will be hot or what chances the chances are of making acquaintance of the cleavage hanging over the gallery rail, but returning the ball which is disappearing out of reach into the backhand corner.

They do, in fact, spend a large part of their lives thinking of nothing but a tiny black ball to the exclusion of weightier topics such as the population explosion, the effect of Robert Schummann's piano concertos on 20th century music or whether beer will go up yet again and turn us all into teetotallers.

In a world so full of opportunities for fit young men, isn't that a silly thing to do?

It seems to me that life is a trifle short to spend more time than absolutely necessary contemplating a lump of rubber which costs >>>25p<<<, is likely to burst at any moment and has an unpleasant tendency to clout its owner behind the knee just when he least expects it.

"But That," says British Open Champion Qamar Zaman, "is the only way to win."

Right, chaps! Got the message? From now on, we concentrate on CONCENTRATION. As an aid to our new approach I have been studying some of the more common mannerisms practised by grass roots players. I will list them, so you can avoid them at all costs.

THE OVER-CONFIDENT SERVER. This is a fatal technique for anyone who seriously intends to win. The player picks up the ball and walks to the service box, frequently making a quip or two as he does so. As his foot enters the box he casually swings his racket at the ball, with no idea of where he intends it to finish up, and sets the new rally in progress. The serve is usually accompanied by a reference to the fact that his opponent will never return the ball -- not that this matters very much because five times out of ten the ball sails happily out of court.

THE OVER-CONFIDENT RECEIVER. He prides himself in being able to kill any service dead and his constant failure does nothing to dull his optimism. A favourite ploy is to look up at the gallery before the rally starts and treat anyone watching to a touch of the raised eyebrows and patronising smile. I have already mentioned that the service only has a 50% chance of going in. If it does, the over-confident receiver probably has a 50% chance of getting it back. Rallies between two such players tend to be on the short side.

THE MASOCHIST. There are an awful lot of these about at the moment and most of them are on the losing side. The masochist blames himself for every mistake made on court -- his own, his opponent's, even errors of discretion committed in the gallery. When he's not blaming himself he is slapping the wall, hitting his legs with the racket handle, punching the bridge of his nose or kicking the tin.

Any concentration he has is channelled into making life as uncomfortable for himself as possible.

THE SYCOPHANT. Most easily identified by his recurrent cry of: "My fault, your point, too good for me." When the point is clearly his because the other player has charged into him, handled the ball AND talked in the middle of a rally, he will plead for a let to be played. When he can't persuade his opponent to take the point he often resorts to remarks such as, "You're so good I just can't get a look in. I should give you a walk over."

His concentration is devoted entirely to the other man's welfare. Occasionally he wins and is depressed for weeks, hardly knowing where to show his face.

THE CUSSER. He wants to win but is heavily handicapped by the fact that most of his energies are expended on cursing the side-walls, front-walls, tin, door, gallery, spectators, racket, ball, jock strap ... anything that appears to be an excuse for his mediocre play.

He is unable to concentrate on the game at all. Often he will swear at the ball before it has reached him. Many cussers have just finished a hard day at the office and feel much better after they have sworn their way through a game.

THE DREAMER. I fall into this category, I'm afraid. It is a very pleasant category but it rarely produces winners. The dreamer hypnotises himself into a neutral state in which he allows a multitude of lovely thoughts to float through his mind. In advanced cases, dreamers have been known to congratulate their opponent on the match when he has merely won the first game. I once failed to notice the ball had burst because I was thinking about the Times crossword. Dreamers don't lose concentration. They never have it.

SPITFIRES. The essence of the spitfire's game is speed. He never stops running, particularly between points. If the ball has rolled to the front of the court he will sprint to pick it up, even if he is not serving. Hurried, nervous, frenetic ... the spitfire does not give himself enough time to think.

THE COCKY. He pretends it's all so easy. He doesn't go off court between games to towel down because he wants to show he's not tired. The worst case I ever encountered was a fellow who brought a bag of apples on court with him. To show how easy it all was he munched one between games. I beat him 3-0, the cocky devil. I was dreaming about winning at the time.