Be Curious, Not Judgmental

Be Curious, Not Judgmental

Walt Whitman

The quote made its way back into the zeitgeist thanks to Ted Lasso. In one of the show’s sharpest scenes, Lasso uses it during a darts match to quietly dismantle a man who underestimated him. Not because he was offended, but because he understood the trap: when people judge too quickly, they stop seeing what’s actually there. They stop learning. They stop noticing.

On a squash court, that moment happens every day.

When players are confronted by a new idea, the first instinct is often to judge. That backhand follow-through feels strange. That movement cue is unfamiliar. That new drill looks unnecessary. That coach’s correction contradicts something they heard before.

Judgment is instant. Curiosity takes patience.

Curiosity asks a different set of questions. Why would my coach suggest this? What problem is this change trying to solve? Where could this unlock improvement months down the line? What if this slight discomfort is exactly the stretch I need?

Coaches are just as vulnerable. A player tries something new, or shows a solution that wasn’t coached into them. The easy response is dismissal. The better response is interest. Maybe they’ve found something promising. Maybe their instincts are ahead of our plan.

Sports science repeatedly backs this up: elite performers aren’t simply disciplined. They’re inquisitive. They test, experiment, and observe. They don’t assume they know. They assume they can learn.

At Squash Tigers, that mindset is baked into the culture. Players ask “why.” Coaches explain “because.” Curiosity becomes a shared language.

Judgment closes doors. Curiosity opens them, and occasionally breaks down a wall you didn’t know was blocking you. That’s the whole point of the Lasso scene: you miss things when you rush to categorize the world instead of exploring it.

Progress in squash often hides behind the ideas we were too quick to reject. Staying curious gives you access to all of them.