As a youngster my dad worked in a bank that had squash courts in the basement
One day he was playing his boss, and was most untactfully kicking his arse. When it was about 7-1, his boss started pacing around the court, banging his racket on his hand and his forehead, and shouting, "IT IS NOT THE RACKET'S FAULT, MALCOLM. IT IS NOT THE RACKET'S FAULT."

When my dad won, his boss promptly ignored his own exhortations and smashed the racket straight into the wall, shattering it. Then he stormed out. Dad had to get changed and head up to face him in the office as normal somehow. I would have laughed in his face for a week.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 22 Jul 2012, 17:26, 2 replies)

Seems to be a squash player thing. ...
I once played a mate at squash after we'd come back to the sports club after a party, very much worse for wear. and in normal clothes, shoes etc.
Somehow I beat him (no idea how never played), and he proceeded to angrily destroy his expensive racquet against the wall.
Before this we'd also tried playing with a "bouncy ball" which is like a cross between a scene from Flubber and the opening 10 minutes of Saving Private Ryan.
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 23 Jul 2012, 9:33, closed)

I very much admire that last image

( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Wed 25 Jul 2012, 15:30, closed)