The courts were once the heartbeat of the community. In the 70s, 80s, and early 90s, racquetball didn’t just exist; it flooded the culture. In those days, the local gym was more than a place to sweat—it was a "grassroots country club." Facilities boasted a dozen courts or more. On weekends, families arrived in droves. While mothers took the kids to the pool or crafts, fathers headed to the glass-walled arenas. Slowly, as the kids grew, the fathers would pass the racquet down, teaching the next generation the snap of the wrist and the speed of the game. It was a family sport, blossomed in an environment of connection. Then, around 1990, the landscape changed forever. The Corporate Takeover and the "Lost Generation" The "Box Gym" era arrived. These corporate giants offered memberships at a fraction of the cost of the old-school clubs. At first, the die-hards scoffed, promising never to leave their pro shops and viewing galleries. But slowly, the migration began. The Mom-and-Pop clubs—the soul of the sport—couldn't compete. Pro shops shuttered. Tournament directors vanished. Eventually, even the veterans moved to the corporate clubs. On the surface, the new gyms were nice. The floors were perfect, and the fiberboard walls were modern. But there was a hidden cost. For insurance and "political" reasons, these corporate gyms banned children under 16. This is where we lost the game. Racquetball shifted from a "family sport" to a "single guy sport." The pipeline of youth and junior players vanished into thin air. Without the kids, the roots of the game began to dry up. Corporate greed followed, calculating that the square footage of a racquetball court could "maximize profit" if turned into a yoga studio, a spin class, or a golf simulator. Today, 70% of those original courts are gone. In some cities, the sport has been literally erased. The Jedi Sport Refuses to Die Despite the physical toll the game takes—the bad knees, the aching backs, and the joint issues—and despite the internal politics that have sometimes fractured our community, the spirit of the game remains.