The squash complex on the ‘C’ level of Princeton University’s Jadwin Gym has a subterranean feel, located two floors below Carril Court.
But for 32 years, a special light emanated from the underground warren of courts, offices, and the fencing room with the genial Bob Callahan holding court as the Princeton men’s squash head coach.
Last week, a darkness and sadness descended on that area and well beyond as Callahan passed away at age 59 after a courageous three-year battle with glioblastoma, a highly malignant, rapidly growing tumor that arises from glial cells in the brain.
Callahan leaves an indelible legacy on Tiger squash in terms of success and length of service. A 1977 Princeton alum, he was a two-time squash All-American and played on three national championship squads, including his senior year when he captained the Tigers to an undefeated season.
After a four-year stint at IBM, he became the head coach of the Princeton squash team in 1982, being offered the position while serving on the search committee for the coaching vacancy. Over the next 32 years, he guided the Tigers to 314 victories, 11 Ivy League titles, and national championships in 1982, 1993, and 2012. He also coached the individual national champion 10 times. He was inducted into the U.S. Squash Hall of Fame in 2012.
Those achievements, as impressive and legendary as they are, only tell a part of the Callahan story.
For squash standout Todd Harrity, a 2013 Princeton alum and the last player to win an individual national title under Callahan, the lessons learned from his coach went well beyond the fine points of the game.
“I came to Princeton partly because of him; he had this aura,” said Harrity, a Philadelphia native who graduated from Episcopal Academy, Callahan’s high school alma mater.
“I liked his coaching style and how he treated his players. The team was so strong, I knew I would be pushed outside of my limits and would discover how good I could be. He really helped my game but the most important thing was how he kept things in proper perspective. He was always competitive, he wanted to win but at the same time he put as much emphasis on how you carried yourself and your demeanor on the court. If someone even dropped their racquet on the court during the match, you knew he would be having a talk with them.”
Callahan set the standard in terms of how to carry oneself in competition. “I never saw him lose his temper,” said Harrity, now a pro squash player ranked in the top 70 in the world. “I played on the team for four years, there were a lot of good wins but there were also some bad losses and he was always even-keeled. I was very impressed by that.”
Harrity is equally impressed by the universal affection felt for Callahan across the generations of the Princeton players that he coached.
“It is incredible how long he was here and seeing that everyone feels the same way about him, no matter when they were at Princeton,” said Harrity “There is so much respect for Bob.”
Princeton Director of Athletics Emeritus Gary Walters ’67 believes that Callahan leaves an incredible legacy on several levels.
“Bob’s life obviously ended too quickly but my goodness did he live such a fulfilling life,” asserted Walters, who guided PU’s athletics department from 1994 to 2014.
“Not only as it relates to the quality of the squash program that he created both in terms of performance and culture but in the very best fulfillments of our department’s overriding philosophy, which is education through athletics. Bob’s performance, both in terms of his experience as an undergraduate at Princeton and his ability to pass it forward to the Princeton student-athletes who played squash, was remarkable.”
In Walter’s view, Callahan’s was an even more remarkable parent than squash coach.
“For me, there are two exclamation points in his life, most obviously professionally is 2012 shortly before he was diagnosed with glioblastoma, when he and the team won the national title ending the Trinity era,” said Walters, referring to the famous 5-4 win over the Bantams that snapped their 13-year national title streak.
“The second exclamation point, even more robust than Bob’s role as a coach, was the role that he and his wife, Kristen, played as parents of the five Callahan sons. (Greg, Scott, Tim, Peter, and Matt, who all attended Princeton and played squash for their father.) They are all such fine young men, to all have the ability to attend Princeton and contribute in every conceivable way, athletically, in the classroom, and even musically. It was like the Cleaver family.”
For Walters, Callahan’s family spirit wasn’t just felt by his wife and sons.
“Bob was a family man in every sense, both to his nuclear family and his Princeton squash family,” added Walters.
“That is why there is such a genuine, universal expression of appreciation for all that he did. There is a real love and affection. His parenting, coaching, and teaching represents his immortality. We have to carry on but we are fortunate to have the foundation that he has already established.”
Harrity, for his part, was fortunate to keep in contact with Callahan after graduation and to the very end of his coach’s life.
“He would call me to get the scoop on how I was playing; he followed my results and when I had a good win, he would send me an e-mail,” said Harrity.
“I came up to visit him on January 12. He had called me because I got a wild card to the Tournament of Champions and I was playing the No 1 player in the world. I was really glad I got to see him. He shook my hand. Kristen lifted his hand into mine and he told me my hands were cold. I just talked about everything I had been doing and mentioned names in the squash world that I knew he would know. The most striking thing to me was even when he was sick and dying, how much he cared about squash, the team, the players, and Princeton. It was his passion.”
This reporter was lucky enough to see Callahan on many occasions when the Princeton men’s basketball team used the conference room across from his office as its media center. Having gotten to know Callahan through covering his teams and his sons during their playing days for the Princeton High boys’ soccer program, I made it a point to swing by before heading upstairs to the basketball games.
Sitting at the desk with a view of a squash court over his shoulder, he would greet me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, always asking first how I was doing before we would chat about a gamut of subjects, whether it be the game that night, the fortunes of PHS soccer, or how his team and sons were doing. One of his players would invariably drift in the office with the perpetually open door and that would prompt an extended introduction and some good-natured ribbing.
The last time I sat down with him in the office was in the fall of 2012 to interview him for a feature on his induction into the squash Hall of Fame.
His parting words to me that day serve as a fitting epitaph. “My life is definitely not going to be as long as it was which is OK,” said Callahan.
“I am going to do my best to beat the thing but a very small percentage of people make it five years. Everyone is going to die at some point. It is not how old you are, it is what you do while you are here.”
There can be no question that Callahan did a multitude of very good things in his 59 years.