Stu Goldstein sat eating an egg-salad sandwich at New York's Uptown Racquet Club. The man and the milieu are made for each other. Uptown is the architectural showpiece of squash, a five-story building of gentle curves, bold white walls and natural light. Goldstein is the showpiece's showpiece. Like the duplex restaurant, catwalks, pipe railings and spiral staircases, he is a fixture in the place, a sight to be seen. And a beautiful sight he is—darting about the court like a scared minnow, unleashing his lefthanded power game, putting away balls with his uncanny three-wall nick.
At 28, after only three full seasons on the pro squash tour, Goldstein has won the North American version of the world pro championship and is second-ranked to Sharif Khan. Goldstein is perhaps the fastest and fittest player on the continent.
Now, looking down on Uptown's main exhibition court, he saw a young man, lanky, mustachioed, tattooed, and a young woman, prim and blonde. The man is a pornographer-turned-novelist. The woman's name is often associated with the running of the state of Delaware. The two were playing a sociable game, and their conversation and laughter drifted up to Goldstein. He smiled, and he seemed to be telegraphing his thoughts: "This is the bright new world of squash; it's beautiful, and someday I am going to own it."
He already has come close. Late last year he was leading Sharif Khan in the Grand Prix point standings and had a 2-2 record against him for the year. After a particularly inspiring victory over Khan in the Montreal finals, Goldstein began intimating that a changing of the guard was at hand. The Boodles Open, to be played at Goldstein's home club, seemed a good time to prove his point. As usual, he and Khan made the finals. They split two games and Goldstein took a 9-3 lead in the third, always a pivotal game in a best-of-five match. But then, as often happens to him, he suddenly weakened. Khan won the game 15-11 and ran out the match. Soon afterward, Goldstein hurt his back during a round-robin tournament in San Francisco.
When he returned in January to play in the North American Open—the World Series of squash—more heartbreak awaited. After surviving two close matches, he led Gordon Anderson 2-2, 13-8 in the semis. Alas, Goldstein again wilted and lost the match in overtime, 18-16. The next day Khan blew out Anderson to take his 10th North American Open in the last 11 years.
Goldstein was left to ponder the subtle inadequacies of his game. "I need more experience and shot selection," he said. According to his peers, the problem is not so simple. They say every torment he experiences is caused by, of all things, his fanatical approach to the game.
Consider Stu Goldstein. He often trains three to six hours a day. Weight lifting has paid off—at 5'7", 138 pounds, he resembles a football halfback. (Height is insignificant in squash. It is one of the game's anomalies that the smaller they are the harder they seem to hit.)
"Stu is cat-quick and incredibly fit, and he's totally dedicated to improving himself as a player," says his friend Frank Satterthwaite, the third-ranked U.S. pro. "But he's a little brittle—both physically and psychologically. Perhaps because he's so intense, he gets more than his share of muscle pulls, and he sometimes gets so tight in a match, his game snaps. When he's hot he can blow anyone off the court, even Khan, but he has yet to develop that capacity to dominate that all champions have."
"Stroke for stroke he's probably better than Khan," says Vic Niederhoffer, a former North American champion, "but not under match conditions. He hasn't had a gradual process of learning the way most other players did, so he's not as collected in his game."
In response Goldstein argues, "People talk as if I haven't done anything in the last two years, but I have. I've won every major tournament I've played in but the Boodles, North American and Boston opens, and I've been second or third in those. And the reason for the change has been mental. You can't win unless you concentrate. When I'm on, I see the spin of the ball as it comes off the wall."