David Hall OAM, a New South Wales Institute of Sport (NSWIS) alumni, carved his name in Australian sporting folklore by dominating the world’s wheelchair tennis courts in the 1990s and 2000s.

Hall (photographed above with Lleyton Hewitt) inspired the nation, winning a total of six Paralympic medals, including the gold in front of a roaring crowd at the Sydney 2000 Games; nine Australian Open [singles] titles; seven British Opens; eight Japan Opens and eight US Opens.

His statistics would make even the most unflappable of statistician snap their pencil in disbelief, chalking up a total of 1029 (singles and doubles) victories for just 200 defeats.

Now Hall’s autobiography Superbeast is available on Amazon, and it is as hard hitting as his ferocious serve and power shots.

The former World No.1 wanted his readers to feel as though he was conversing with them, and the easy-to-follow style of Superbeast allows everyone to feel as though they are with Hall during the ecstasy of a global victory and alongside him during the depths of his toughest and most brutal challenges.

NSWIS caught up with this Australian sporting legend for a wide-ranging interview to find out the reason why he didn’t ever smash his racket in frustration; the impact Olympic icon Dawn Fraser had on him becoming a Paralympian; the moment his life changed; his place in Australian sport; winning a gold Paralympic medal at a home Games, and why the memorabilia he presented to the International Tennis Hall of Fame is regarded as one of the best 10 items in the museum.

NSWIS:You’ve gone into great detail in your autobiography Superbeast (cover above) about the lifechanging moment of being hit by a car while hitchhiking to go to a mate’s birthday party. I ask this question of you respectfully David, but how do you remember that so vividly?

David Hall [DH]: It’s a good question, because there were some things I remembered while writing the book as if it happened yesterday, and for others I needed to look at photos, watch footage or have discussions with people to jog my memory. But I remember vividly the lead-up to getting hit. And it’s incredible because a lot of people banish trauma to the back of their mind. They just don’t want to think about it. While it’s interesting how some things crystalise in your mind, I contacted Westmead Hospital for the medical reports from when I arrived and for the subsequent surgeries. While I don’t remember arriving at Westmead, or the helicopter flight to get there, I recall speaking to the Ambulance driver and lapsing in and out of consciousness on the road. The hardest things to relive were the relationships because I talk about girlfriends who were affected by things I did. They were the tough things to relive . . .  Yeah, I wanted the reader to be there with me on the road; in the helicopter as I’m going to hospital, in the court as I’m playing for the gold medal and with me as my bronzed head [a bust] is unveiled at Rod Laver Arena. I just wanted to make it conversational.

NSWIS: Have you ever spoken to the driver?

DH: No, we never have. I only saw his name in court documents or on accident reports. In saying that, I never felt the need to have a conversation or deal with what happened. As far as I know the driver has never tried to contact me, either. It’s almost as if that night has been put in separate boxes and we deal with what happened in our own ways.

NSWIS: And then you read in the local paper about a wheel chair tennis player named Terry Mason.

DH: And it changed everything. It’s crazy to think reading the local paper shifted everything. I’d played tennis and soccer and ran track but I’d never seen wheelchair sports before. I had no idea people could play tennis from a wheelchair and so meeting Terry and seeing he was like this Greek god at the other end of the court with muscles and sun kissed hair, playing clean shots as he moved around the court, I was gobsmacked by it al. I was essentially recovering in many ways as I tried to transition back into society – and there was negative energy there – but Terry was such a positive bundle of energy. He showed me the potential without trying too hard. He didn’t try to recruit me, he just said there were tournaments, a tour, rankings and prize money and I could give it a go if I wanted and it was cool if I didn’t. Terry knew exactly the right tone to take, and I just remember going home thinking I needed to get into the sport. Eventually I quit my government job as a clerk at Gosford Police Station – and no-one leaves a government job – but I wanted to be all in. I had to fully commit.

NSWIS: And that commitment saw you win the gold medal at the Sydney Paralympics (photographed above). As we’re approaching that milestone . . . it’s almost a quarter of a century to the day since that victory . . . how do you look back on that campaign? I imagine winning in front of a home crowd must have been overwhelming.

DH: It was. It was a case of putting it together when it mattered. I’d won many majors leading up to that; being No.1 in the world and going into the Games ranked No.1. It was a matter of keeping everything – including your emotions – in check; not get too far ahead of yourself. Being at a Paralympics – especially a home Games – there is so much energy in other areas that it’s easy for athletes to get sucked in. It’s almost as if you need to put yourself into some kind of cocoon, play your matches, get back to the village, rest up, and then rinse repeat day after day. Funnily enough, that was not the best I’ve ever played. It was the biggest event I ever played, but I played better in others. I describe it as the best I could play at that particular moment, it meant having to fight and claw and scratch to win matches and get to the gold medal match and doing the absolute best on the day – something I managed to do in front of 10,000 people.

NSWIS: . There is a beautiful piece of writing towards the end of your book where you say of despair: ‘Despair can be lonely, but beyond it, the sweetest things are the ones you don’t even know of yet – but only if you’re willing to find them.’ It’s quite powerful

DH:  Thanks!  I think that just sums up all the experiences I had – and despair can be lonely because you don’t know if you’re going to get out of it. But, you need to scratch and claw to escape it. There is life beyond despair but you have to, in some ways, suffer for it but there is an inner strength burning inside that you might not have known is there. What I discovered is it will reveal itself when you need it, but you will have to fight and claw to get to that point before you make it through.  

NSWIS: You were a NSWIS scholarship holder for almost 10 years. How did the Institute help you?

DH: It helped in many ways, but I tapped into sports psychology towards the end of my career. There was a great sports psych at NSWIS named Jocelyn Penna and her help was so beneficial. As an athlete you get to a point where you’ve won a lot but when you realise your career is coming towards its end you can think there’s a need to protect some kind of legacy. But Jocelyn asked me if I took take away the past and the future, what’s left? I then realised as an athlete, you risk living in the past or living in the future. For me, living in the past was, in a weird way, like trying to protect your own historical moments. And I realised living in the future during a tournament was thinking too far ahead. Thinking ‘I’m so close to, you know, winning this tournament’; ‘I’m up a set, I’m almost there’. Jocelyn allowed me to boil it all down to the bare essentials. It came back to what was happening on the court right now [when you’re in the moment] there is no past, there is no future. You just need to focus on what’s happening in this moment and how you can prepare and play the best you possibly can.

NSWIS: You earned another nickname, the ‘Iceman’, because you seemed so calm, but you reveal there were times during a match when you just wanted to smash a racket. How did you control that urge?

DH: [laughs] I was using quite an old model racket. It was a Prince DB Synergy CTS 26 mid plus, which is the longest named racket you’ve ever heard of.

NSWIS: Ahhh, OK, that’s why you describe it in the book as a dinosaur.

DH: Yes [laughs]. So, I didn’t have that many left because Prince had gone out of production. So, there was a threefold reason to not break it. One: I didn’t want to destroy a beloved racket because I didn’t have many left. Two: I didn’t want to show my opponent I was suffering mentally or emotionally. Three:  And I think the other part was that I just realised that I played better if I just kept calm.

NSWIS: One of Australian sport’s icons, Olympic swimming great Dawn Fraser had a positive impact on your career?

DH: When I first learnt about wheelchair tennis I would go in the yard and push back and forth just trying to get stronger. I was doing that one day when I saw a woman next door -it was a holiday house and there was rarely people there – but on this particular day there was a lady hosing the lawn. When she turned around I was like: ‘Oh, my God, it’s Dawn Fraser!’ I was excited but at the same time I didn’t want to bug her, so I kept pushing. Eventually she stopped watering and asked if I was training for something?’ I replied I’d just started wheelchair tennis and was trying to get stronger. We had a good chat and the 1992 Barcelona Games were coming up and she said I should aim for them. I just remember Dawn being so lovely and friendly. She has done so much for, Australian sport and that 10 minute conversation was so encouraging. I’ve never, never forgotten it.

NSWIS: And you, donated what was probably the most personal piece of memorabilia to the International Tennis Hall of Fame on Rhode Island. What inspired that decision?

DH: When you get inducted they ask you to send some memorabilia. Some people have sent trophies or a piece of clothing, which is fine. But they also ask if you can provide something that shows your personality or had an impact on your tennis career. I thought ‘I have to show my personality’ and I remembered when I pushed out to play in the US Open I listened to Slayer on the Walkman. And it was crazy to think I listened to Slayer – a heavy metal band – to calm me as I pushed to the court. But those tapes played a role in how I mentally prepared for the matches – so I sent them and they’re under glass in Newport, Rhode Island. The crazy thing isa few months after I was inducted, American Tennis Magazine did an article about the 10 most interesting things in the International Tennis Hall of Fame Museum and the tapes made the cut! I mean they have artefacts from Laver, Martina Navratilova and Chris Everett and all the legends but the Slayer cassettes made the list!

NSWIS: Finally, what do you hope people take from your book?

DH: Hopefully, that it’s a good read! I didn’t intentionally try to put messages in the book because I think there are plenty of underlying messages that could help people throughout it. It’s just my story . . . my life . . .  and how I’ve remembered it. I wanted to write it in a way the reader would understand how I was feeling at the time. It is spread across 450 pages, but I wanted to keep the story as raw and as honest as possible. There are different elements to it: recovering from trauma and trying to transition back into society and not only what that looked like, but what I did to help myself take that leap. It’s also a story about discovering something in tennis and knowing what to chase and being committed to it. I’d like to think it might help people in what it is they’re trying to chase. There’s some sad parts, but there are other times where I’d like to think you’ll laugh out loud. I’ve also put pop culture references from the 1980s and ‘90s that some people appreciate. But I’ve kept it as raw as possible.

NSWIS: Well, you have a heck of a story and best wishes with Superbeast.

DH: Thank you.

Daniel Lane, NSWIS

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