At the end of 2023, most competitive squash tennis players already have a decade of court time behind them. Master of Sports B.Khongorzul had none. She entered her first national championship just after a year and placed third. Two years on, she has claimed silver in both singles and team categories at the national championships, represented her country at the 16th East Asian Squash Championship in Hong Kong, and is now preparing for the Asian Games in Nagoya this September. Her path to squash tennis began not on a court but a volleyball floor, where she spent her elementary and high school years playing as a connector and collecting medals along the way. That competitive instinct never left her, it simply found a new outlet, first under coach G.Munkh-Erdene and later O.Altankhuyag, as she took up a sport still finding its footing in the country. Squash tennis remains a niche pursuit domestically, with limited courts, coaching and public recognition. B.Khongorzul is one of a small number of athletes working to change that, balancing her training with a full-time career as an accountant at APU, a role she stepped into after graduating from the National University of Mongolia.

Throughout our conversation, her energy was impossible to miss. She is bright and quick to laugh, and as she spoke about her journey, that excitement occasionally gave way to tears, a reminder of just how much this story means to her. Ahead of her biggest test yet in Nagoya, she sat down to talk about her late start, the sacrifices behind it, and what she hopes to prove once she’s on the court.  

Squash tennis only started developing in Mongolia back in 2011, so it’s still a very young sport here. What was it like stepping into something with so little infrastructure or public awareness behind it? And given that you’d already spent years playing volleyball, what was it specifically about squash tennis that pulled you in? 

I started playing on December 12, 2023, when I signed up for squash tennis classes at Encanto without having the faintest idea what the sport actually was. I was working an office job at the time and felt this real need to get moving, to find some kind of physical outlet. I’d also been itching to try something new. I told a friend I wanted to learn tennis, and she suggested a similar class nearby that we could sign up for together. Since it was winter, the thought of playing something indoors sounded perfect. 

When I showed up on the first day expecting lawn tennis, I quickly realized I’d walked into a completely different world. I kept scanning the court for that yellow lawn tennis ball, but even the ball and racket looked nothing like what I expected. I remember thinking, “What on earth did I sign up for? I think I’ve registered for the wrong tennis by mistake!” But once my first coach broke down the basics of squash tennis and I actually got out on the court, I was hooked. It demands so much all at once, speed, power, balance, split-second decisions and that combination is what pulled me in. I decided then and there to stick with it. 

So, at the very start, becoming a national team athlete competing at this level wasn’t even something you imagined for yourself? 

When I first picked up a racket, becoming a national team athlete was the last thing on my mind. Going into my very first tournament, I told myself that just winning a single match would be enough (laughs). Instead, I walked away with third place. That result gave me a huge confidence boost, and it opened the door to international competition. I trained hard, kept pushing, and eventually earned the chance to represent my country at the East Asian Squash Championship. Looking back, it still feels surreal, like a childhood dream I’d long forgotten had somehow found its way back to me. That dream actually goes back to when I was 14. I’d just started playing volleyball, and watching the older national team players. I remember thinking, “I want to be just like them someday, competing for my country against athletes from other nations.” But volleyball in Mongolia has deep roots, a huge following, and it leans heavily on height, so breaking into the national team felt nearly impossible. Eventually I let that dream go. I moved on, became a university student, and put sports aside entirely to focus on my studies. I ended up graduating from the National University of Mongolia with that dream tucked away somewhere in the back of my mind. Taking up squash tennis after starting my career was the last thing I expected for myself. But when I qualified for the Asian Games, that old dream came rushing back, and I couldn’t quite believe it was finally coming true, 12 years later. It taught me something I’ll carry with me: if you want something badly enough and keep working toward it, it has a way of finding you again, even when you’ve stopped looking for it. I just want to tell that 14-year-old version of me, “I did it.” I’m a national team athlete now. How amazing is that?  

Take us back to the moment you won second place at the 2025 national championships, in both singles and team. What was going through your mind right before that final point?  

I was incredibly nervous heading into that tournament, because only the top three finishers in the singles category at the 2025 national championships would earn a spot at the 20th Asian Games. Then, just a month out, while I was deep in preparation, I injured my ankle. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. The doctor’s diagnosis was rough, particularly two weeks of restricted movement and a full three months without training. I remember feeling completely deflated, and for a while I genuinely didn’t know whether to withdraw or push through. In the end, I decided I’d rather show up and give it everything I had than sit it out and wonder what might have been. So I competed on painkillers, pain-relief ointment, and my ankle wrapped tight enough to hold together. Since it hadn’t fully healed, I couldn’t go all out, not physically, and honestly, not mentally either. There was always this voice in the back of my head telling me to hold back. But I think the thing that carried me through was believing, deep down, that I could push past it no matter how hard it got. I kept coming back to that dream I’d carried since I was a kid, and I trusted that if I could just get out of my own head, I’d find a way through. I fought for every point that mattered, and when it was all said and done, I’d placed second and punched my ticket to the Asian Games. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with a result in my life.

What was it like representing the country on an international stage for the first time at the East Asian Championship in Hong Kong?  

I still remember, so vividly, just how nervous I was going into my very first match. Everything seemed to fly by in a blur, and at one point I could barely even track the ball, my nerves had that much of a grip on me. And it wasn’t just my own name on the line out there. Right next to it was “Mongolia,” and that’s when the weight of it really hit me. But even with my heart racing the whole way through, I gave it everything I had, and somehow, I made it through. 

Who were the opponents you faced there? What stood out about their level of play compared to what you were used to at home? Was there a match that particularly tested you or taught you something important?

I found myself up against some genuinely incredible professional athletes from countries like Japan, South Korea, China and Hong Kong, places where this sport is already well-established. Here I am, squeezing in training around a full-time office job, while these athletes train from morning until night as full professionals, constantly fine-tuning their conditioning and their game. It was eye-opening to see just how much their governments back them, such as dedicated practice time, tournament funding, purpose-built courts, sports psychologists, medical staff, the whole package. Coming up against players who’d spent over 15 years in this sport was a massive learning experience. It completely changed how I see the game, through the eyes of a true professional, if that makes sense. I realized competing at that level isn’t just about the athlete on the court, there’s an entire, highly systematic team working behind the scenes to get them there. Back home in Mongolia, I used to think I was playing pretty well. But stepping onto that international stage was a real wake-up call. It showed me exactly how much further I still have to go, and how much harder I need to work to get there. 

So what do you feel are the most important things Mongolia is still missing in order for squash tennis to really grow here? 

International squash development is genuinely on another level. From the standard of the courts and sheer number of people playing, to the quality of coaching and government backing, Mongolia still has a lot of catching up to do. When I first started playing here, there were only two courts in the entire country to train on, and once I’d competed internationally, I realized neither of them actually met international standards. Thankfully, two new courts went up in 2026, bringing us to four total here in Ulaanbaatar, which is real progress. If we had courts that met proper international requirements, I believe we’d be fully capable of hosting international tournaments right here at home. What’s interesting about squash tennis is that a court can be set up almost anywhere, kind of like a 3x3 basketball setup. I remember being fascinated to learn that international tournaments have actually been held on temporary courts built right in the desert in front of Egypt’s pyramids. That got me thinking: there’s no reason we couldn’t set up a temporary court right on Sukhbaatar Square and host an international tournament of our own, right in the heart of Ulaanbaatar. 

You’re now in the thick of preparing for the Asian Games in Nagoya. What does a typical training day look like for you at this point? And in these final weeks specifically, what are you focusing on most intensely, is it technique, fitness, or more mental preparation?  

I started my Asian Games preparation at the end of July. My week is split between strength training, three sessions at the fitness center, and four days dedicated to core squash skills and drills. Now that we’re leaving for the Games on September 17, these final days are less about pushing my body and more about letting it rest. I’m shifting my focus toward mental preparation, making sure my head is in the right place going in. 

Is there a particular opponent or country you’re watching closely ahead of Nagoya? 

Athletes from 17 countries will be competing in the squash tennis category at the Asian Games, with Malaysia, Hong Kong, India and Japan fielding some very highly ranked teams. As for my own draw, I’ll be facing an athlete from Thailand in my opening match, and right now, that’s exactly where my focus is. My main goal is simply to win that first match. 

Is there a specific title, ranking, or milestone you’re chasing next?  

Right after I get back from the Asian Games, the national championship will be right around the corner. My goal there is straightforward: perform well and improve on what I did last year. 

You graduated from the National University of Mongolia and now work as an accountant at APU. How do you manage to balance a full-time accounting career with training at such a competitive level? What does a typical day actually look like for you? 

My working hours are flexible, which is truly a lifesaver. I can come in anytime between 7:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m., as long as I put in my eight hours, and that flexibility is what makes it possible to keep up my training without ever missing a session. A typical day for me starts at 8:00 a.m. Since I’ll be heading to Japan for the Games, I picked up Japanese this year, so I spend the first 30 minutes at my desk studying before anything else. Mornings are quieter around the office, so that’s when I tackle my most demanding tasks, while I save the lower-concentration stuff for the calmer afternoon hours. Come lunchtime, a few colleagues and I head to a yoga studio nearby, it stretches out anything tight, clears my head, and honestly makes for one of the most productive lunch breaks I could ask for. I wrap up work at 5:00 p.m. and I’m at squash practice by 6:00 p.m., which usually runs until around 8:00 p.m. Once I’m home, I prepare my outfit and training bag for the next day and try to get to bed early. Weekends aren’t exactly a break either, in particular, lawn tennis lessons starting at 7:00 a.m., then the gym later in the day for strength work. 

On the rare bit of downtime I do get, I love losing myself in travel vlogs, and I’ve actually been watching Friends on Netflix to sharpen my English. My week basically runs morning to night on a pretty tight loop of work and training, and sometimes I really do just wish I could sleep in for once. Beyond squash, I’ve also run the Ulaanbaatar Marathon three years running, and I’ve dabbled in archery, running, volleyball and even rock climbing at various points. I just love moving, in pretty much any form. As for watching sport rather than playing it, domestically I’m a big fan of the Mongolian Basketball and Volleyball Super Leagues, and internationally I try to catch the World Championships in volleyball, football and athletics. I love watching for the skill, sure, but it’s the charisma and mental toughness that really pull me in. Lately, picking up new languages has become a real hobby of mine. Once I’m back from competing in Japan, I’m actually sitting a Japanese language exam. I’ve already registered. I’ve also bought myself a violin and a piano, hoping to eventually learn both, though between work and training I haven’t put in nearly enough practice to call myself any good yet (laughs). Playing an instrument well takes an enormous amount of practice and talent, so I have so much respect for musicians who can actually pull it off. But if I had to pick my biggest hobby outside of sport, it’s traveling. I love exploring new countries with my family and friends, soaking up different cultures and ways of life. And when I can’t be out there myself, you’ll usually find me watching travel vlogs instead, which is basically how this whole answer started. 

Do you see your analytical, numbers-driven work as an accountant showing up in how you approach your game, strategy, discipline, tracking progress? 

Indeed. Numbers really do play a big role in my life, and I bring that same mindset into my training. I use my sports watch to track all kinds of indicators, sleep quality, heart rate through workouts, and how well my body’s handling the load I’m putting on it. I even track my recovery time, how demanding a session was and how much time I need before the next one, just to make sure I’m building toward tournaments without running myself into an injury. But at the end of the day, discipline is the most important thing an athlete can have. Every day brings a tough session, and life has its own way of throwing curveballs, a sore body, a rough day mentally, whatever it is. In those moments, what keeps me consistent is remembering the promises I’ve made to myself and the goals I’m chasing. That’s what makes every single session actually count. 

Your family seems to carry a strong sporting culture. Where do you think that came from, was it your parents, a family tradition, or something else? 

My success in sports is inseparable from my family. There are five of us, my parents and my two older brothers. My mom teaches middle school geography, and both she and one of my older brothers hold the title of Master of Sports in volleyball. She’s told me many times that my grandfather was a rhythmic gymnast and a football player, and we actually still have a photo in our family album from when he worked as back-office staff at the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. Even my cousin got in on it, representing our country at the 2025 World Championships in trampoline gymnastics. Sport just runs in the family, plain and simple. I first got into volleyball after watching my older brother play, and that’s really where it all started for me. I trained in volleyball for four years and even competed at the 2016 National Youth Championships. Everyone in my family has gone off into different careers, teaching, sport, whatever it might be, but no matter what they’ve done professionally, they’ve always kept sport running alongside it. 

How does your family feel about your career today? Do they come to your matches, and whose support has mattered most to you along the way? 

My family supports me in everything I do, and I’m so proud to have finally joined their ranks as a Master of Sports myself. Since they’re all based in Erdenet, they can’t always make it to watch my tournaments in person, but I’m endlessly grateful for how they stand behind me and cheer me on from afar, distance has never once gotten in the way of their support. My friends have been just as important. Whenever training gets overwhelming, they’re the ones talking me through it, constantly reminding me that I can do this. Honestly, they’re basically my personal psychologists at this point (laughs). I get a lot of support from my colleagues too, and my company has been generous enough to provide financial sponsorship to help cover my travel costs for competitions.