Paralympic Heroes

by Cathy Wood

  Instead she decided to finish in front of an appreciative home crowd the following May, when her father, sister and close friends could all be there to help celebrate the end of a glittering track and road career.

  When Tanni Grey-Thompson eventually retired, at the age of 37, she left Paralympic sport in a more robust place in the public’s perception than when she had started at Seoul 1988. Her attitude and desire to win, her dominance on the track and road, and willingness to engage with the public in a compelling way played, in no small measure, a big part in this change.

  ***

  As Tanni Grey-Thompson was enjoying the deserved attention and plaudits that followed her 11th Paralympic medal, another British athlete made his own piece of history with the same ruthless, meticulous approach to winning.

  When Peter Norfolk left the players’ entrance at the Athens Olympic Tennis Centre to meet the USA’s David Wagner in the Quad Singles final, he knew what happened next was up to him.

  More than a decade after being paralysed in a motorbike accident, he’s always loved the cat-and-mouse attributes of a game which differs little in strategy from the standing-up version. And he knows if it doesn’t work out, there is only one person to point the finger of blame at. ‘There is nowhere to hide. If I lose, I can’t blame you,’ he says. ‘I am the one on court – I have to find any way I can to win.’

  And at the Athens 2004 Paralympic Games, at 43, an age when many athletes have retired, Peter Norfolk won his first Paralympic gold medal. What’s more, he knew from various points won during the match what the final outcome would be. ‘I remember hitting the last shot and as soon as the ball left my racquet, I knew I had won. There were earlier points when I knew I was going to win, but I still had to focus,’ he says.

  Victory in Athens 2004 was a bittersweet experience though – his wife Linda, the team’s physiotherapist, lost their first baby back in England following the Games. There were other happier memories, however, such as looking up into the crowd whenever he hit a winning shot and seeing everyone screaming and clapping, including blind members of the British Judo team who had come to support him – it was just that they were looking in the opposite direction to where he’d placed his shot and where everyone else was looking!

  Once it was all over and the gold medal secured, he felt immense, overwhelming relief. ‘To put in place a plan and then action it for four years and achieve those goals is astounding,’ he says. Together with another friend, Peter and Linda waited until all the lights had gone out and everyone had left before having their own victory party outside the stadium. And then they made their way onto the last bus back to the Village.

  At every Paralympic Games inevitably there are situations and experiences that can unsettle young and experienced competitors if they allow them to do so. None more so than the glitzy celebrations that usually mark the Opening and Closing Ceremonies of each Games. At Athens 2004 Philip Craven, President of the International Paralympic Committee and himself a distinguished former wheelchair basketball player, told the crowd: ‘More than 2,000 years ago, the Greek philosopher Democritos said, “To win oneself is the first and best of all victories.” This holds true for all athletes but especially for Paralympians.’ It’s all part of the grand introduction to the Games, along with the light shows, dancers and fireworks.

  But although these ceremonies are great spectacles, often they are also long, tiring and distracting if an athlete’s sole aim is to win gold. Athletes such as Peter Norfolk don’t train or compete for the Ceremonies or post-Games parade through the streets of the capital. For Peter, and athletes like him, it’s all about the prize of gold. ‘I am not interested in it,’ he explains. ‘I have got what I want, and that’s the medal; I have been on the podium. For me, the fight was the match as I only play to win. You only remember the winners.’

  Such is his approach that, at the big events like the Paralympic Games, he is totally absorbed and focused on doing the job he’s come for. As he prepares for the biggest Games of his career, he has certain pre-match rituals that help him prepare.

  ‘I do go into my cave a bit as I’m not interested in anything except the next game,’ he admits. In fact, Peter is a master in knowing what works for him and how to shut out the rest of the world and let the winning ways in. It’s a well-practised and well-trodden route which has seen him secure more than 40 Quad singles titles on the Wheelchair Tennis Tour. He also won the US Open at Flushing Meadows twice and the Australian Open, in Melbourne, three times. Until 2010 he finished as Number 1 in the Quad world rankings in five of the previous seven seasons.

  Four years after the Athens Games, Peter arrived at Beijing 2008 to defend his Quad title. In Beijing he didn’t drop a single set and progressed without difficulty to the final against Sweden’s Johan Andersson. He knew he had to come out strongly: he broke Andersson’s serve early in the first set and never looked back, taking his second successive Paralympic Quad title, 6-2, 6-2, after a little more than an hour on court. It was only once he realised he could win that he was able to enjoy the stadium and the crowd, and to soak up the euphoria more than he had at Athens 2004.

  For Peter, one of the best experiences of Beijing was the crowd support and when he went to practise on the morning of his final, the stadium was packed with enthusiastic Chinese supporters, who clapped and cheered every point. So, when the session came to an end the players rewarded the enthusiastic support by throwing balls and towels into the crowd. It wasn’t an experience or opportunity that comes round often in a player’s career and Peter couldn’t imagine it getting any better. However, the atmosphere, crowds and support in the final were quite unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  And now, with two Quad titles already under his belt, he has his eyes on London 2012, where he could win both Quad Singles and Doubles with possible partner Andy Lapthorne, who he describes as, ‘the future of tennis’.

  He intends to adopt exactly the same build-up as for previous Games. ‘I want my third gold at London,’ he says. ‘It is a job. You have got one crack at it, and that’s it. There are no second chances, particularly in London. It won’t come back round in my lifetime.’

  ***

  Danielle Brown may be nearly 30 years Peter Norfolk’s junior but she shares an aim as unerring as her shooting skills: the desire to win. The Frenchman and founder of the modern Olympic Games, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, believed it was not winning that mattered, but the taking part. ‘The essential thing in life is not conquering but fighting well,’ he said. This may not be a view shared by today’s elite Paralympic athletes: participation may be important, but winning is everything.

  So much so that the thought of repeating her Beijing success in London 2012 is all the incentive Danielle Brown needs. She hates getting up early. Whether it’s the constant pain in her feet caused by CRPS, or that she simply prefers to avoid early starts, Danielle is not at her best first thing.

  And yet the only motivation needed to overcome this difficulty is the simple reminder that while she’s in bed, somewhere in another part of the world, one of her London 2012 competitors will already be putting that day’s training plan into practice. ‘I really want to win,’ she says. ‘It gets me out of bed.’

  And when she did win in Beijing there were no words sufficiently adequate to describe what it felt like. Instead she stood shaking from the adrenaline of the moment and the relief it was all over. She was so excited that when the Union Jack went up, after being presented with her medal, she forgot to sing. And once the ceremony was over, all she wanted to do was call home to share the moment with her parents and two younger sisters in Lothersdale, Keighley in north Yorkshire. It was 2.45 in the morning when Helen answered. Having relayed the news that Danielle Brown was now the best Individual Compound – Open archer in the Paralympic world, Helen responded by saying, ‘Well done. I’ve got my university accommodation sorted out.’ So, not much danger there of the success going to her head.

  Her mother, Liz, t
hough, was jubilant. Danielle hadn’t been able to speak to her father, Duncan, who was away on business and so she rang him on his mobile, not realising Liz had already relayed the news. ‘Why are you whispering?’ she asked him. In fact, it was the second time in as many minutes his room mates had been woken by the phone ringing. It was worth it, though. ‘He was chuffed to bits,’ she says.

  What happened in the months that followed her triumph shows just how big the gulf between non-disabled and disabled sport still is.

  Danielle began contacting bow manufacturers to see if she could get sponsorship. None were forthcoming but the minute she qualified for the non-disabled team to compete at the Commonwealth Games in Delhi, suddenly they wanted to support her. And therein lies one of the issues surrounding the Paralympic Games: it’s a fact of life that it is still harder, and the opportunities fewer, for someone in a wheelchair than not.

  The forerunner to today’s Paralympic Games may well have provided the disabled with hope and unexpected opportunity. Today, though, the Paralympic Games are elite sport at their very best, packed with outstanding athletes who achieve remarkable sporting feats in their particular sport. And those athletes do not define their sporting capabilities by their disability. Instead they look at the task in hand – to be the best they can – and set about achieving it. Athletes like Danielle Brown refuse to fall within the preconceived boundaries set by society. Instead they set boundaries of their own.

  Understanding this, and Paralympic sport in general, still requires better information so that everyone can fully understand and appreciate the spectacle unfolding in front of them. And that is because watching Paralympic sport is a different experience to watching Olympic events or, indeed, any non-disabled sport. Broadcasting is one of the areas where that understanding can be helped and the broadcaster charged with getting that experience across is the Channel 4, who secured the rights to show the London 2012 Paralympic Games. Under the agreement, Channel 4 has to broadcast 150 hours of coverage during the Games itself as well as commission two 10-part documentaries. Most of the coverage will be live and more than 130 of the 150 hours will be shown on Channel 4’s main terrestrial channel. The Games will be the biggest event in Channel 4’s history.

  Chris Holmes, Director of Paralympic Integration at the London 2012 Organising Committee and himself a winner of six gold medals at one Games, Barcelona 1992, saw the Channel 4 coup as a major highlight of his tenure. ‘It was a fantastic deal and really allows us a tremendous opportunity to do something amazing, ensuring people get immersed in Paralympic sport and fall in love with it,’ he said.

  ***

  Athens 2004 was the first Games Baroness Sue Campbell attended as Reform Chair of UK Sport. Initially appointed for an 18-month term in September 2003, she was confirmed as UK Sport’s Chair for another four years in March 2009, which will see her in office until 2013, beyond the London 2012 Games.

  One night, together with John Scott (then International Director and Director of Drug-Free Sport at UK Sport and since Chief Executive of the Glasgow 2014 Commonwealth Games), they decided to make their way over to the Olympic pool. Despite a long involvement with sport of all kinds, nothing quite prepared Campbell for what happened that evening in Greece.

  Settling back to watch the most severe category of swimmers, the S1 group, Baroness Campbell looked on as the swimmers paraded along the side of the pool before taking up position behind the lane they were about to swim in. Then one competitor removed both arms, followed by her legs, before getting into the water and using her trunk to propel her, like a fish, to the other end where, rather than touching the wall with an outstretched arm to finish, she used the crown of her head instead.

  Up in the stands tears were pouring down Campbell’s face. ‘John turned to me and said, “What is the matter with you?”’ she recalls. ‘I am going to go away and be a better person,’ she replied. ‘It just had that profound effect on me. You don’t feel that when you are watching the Olympics – you are enthralled by Paralympic sport. It’s magnificent in a different way.’

  She believes that if you watch the Paralympic Games and it does not affect or move you, and you don’t go away determined to do better with your own life, then you really haven’t watched it at all.

  But that’s the thing about the Paralympic Games. Whether it was the pioneers of 1960, stars like rower Tom Aggar and archer Danielle Brown, or athletes who will come into their own for the first time at London 2012, watching Paralympic sport is about recognising and appreciating something that lies within every one of us. It’s about the irrepressible power of the human spirit at its very finest and it’s simply that in the course of our everyday lives, most of us never have cause to dig that deep for so long to emerge triumphant. That is what the Paralympic Games, past and present, are all about.

  Acknowledgements

  Writing a book on the Paralympic Games in the very short period of time available to me meant relying on the expertise and experience of a raft of people, without whom this project wouldn’t have progressed much beyond the starting blocks. I am grateful to all.

  I should say, from the outset, there is a paucity of reliable, accurate information on the Paralympic Games, particularly the early history, which meant relying on the memories of those who experienced the Games first hand rather than any historical documents. And yet decades have passed since those inaugural Games and memories inevitably fade. What is recorded here reflects those remembrances and if there are any inaccuracies, I apologise in advance. The interviews were conducted, and written, in good faith.

  In terms of those who made the book happen, thanks first of all to Conor Kilgallon, Senior Editor of Carlton Books, for asking me to write it and for calmly and professionally navigating me through the process and the unexpected, at times challenging, curveballs neither of us could have anticipated in advance.

  Thank you also to Nicky Gyopari for reading the original manuscript and for coming up with valuable suggestions.

  Getting to the finish line would not have been possible without the tenacious, gracious intervention of Ann Cutcliffe (Vice-Chair ParalympicsGB), who opened doors I could not. In the five-month process no one did more to facilitate interviews and ideas. Without her this book would have been poorer in content, understanding and range, and I am indebted for the tireless, enlightened support generously given throughout.

  Thanks also to Mel, a good friend and brilliant PR professional, for an invaluable part in the book’s inception. and to the incomparable Jane Goldsmith for excellent help on the Equestrian classification system and to Chris Meaden for offering help.

  Sincere thanks to Tash Carpenter at the British Paralympic Association (BPA) for her endless patience in answering questions, perseverance and dedication in getting hold of athletes, careful fact-checking and overall professionalism. All of which was done under immense time pressure.

  And my thanks to Baroness Sue Campbell and Baroness Jane Campbell for kindly providing valuable background help.

  Thank you also to Tim Reddish, Chairman of the BPA for excellent background information, to Jane Jones of the BPA for help and guidance, and to Caz Walton for our various meetings and background information supplied.

  I’m grateful to Ian Brittain and his excellent book, Paralympic Games Explained, (Routledge) who, despite pressing writing projects of his own, never failed to answer questions with clarity and kindness. The information supplied was key to the book’s progression.

  In the cycling community, Iga Kowalska-Owen, Communications Manager at British Cycling, did a terrific job setting up a number of key interviews and providing expert information, over many months, and delivering all with good humour and willingness.

  To Martin McElhatton, Chief Executive of WheelPower, thank you for being a mine of information, for ensuring no question was too foolish to ask and for facilitating vital meetings, including spending time with Jean Stone, who shared some wonderfully touching stories which are included here.


  To Tony Sainsbury, now at LOCOG, but formerly Chef de Mission for the British Paralympic Team, thank you for readily helping on a range of complex issues.

  Thanks also to Caroline Searle of Matchtight in Bath for excellent recommendations and for setting up some terrific interviewees; Marshall Thomas, who provided superb information and help throughout; Stephanie Gagne, Press Officer at the Great Britain Wheelchair Basketball Association; Winnie Murphy, Marketing and Communications Manager at British Dressage; the super-efficient Hannah Hore, PR and Client Services Manager at Definitive Sports; Claire Shand, head of Communication and Marketing at the British Equestrian Federation and Katy Anderson, Senior Media Officer at UKA.

  Also to Jess Whitehorn at UK Sport for guiding me through the minutiae around funding. Others who provided vital assistance include: John, Matthew, Anna and Eleanor at the RNIB, Ray Cross at the Spinal Injuries Association, Tom Dyson of British Rowing, Tim Hazell of Archery GB and Craig Spence of the International Paralympic Committee (IPC).

  Considerable effort went into ensuring at least one soldier was represented here and my thanks go to Colonel David Norris (Battle Back – Sport) for superbly pulling this off; to the Ministry of Defence for permitting it and to Major Martin Colclough for background information on the Battle Back programme.

  Without the athletes there would have been no stories to tell and to all those who allowed me to interview them and for generous hospitality, thank you. In particular, the Christiansen family for opening up different avenues for me to explore and for swift, detailed information. And to Marion Aggar for a story of such dignity and integrity that continues to live with me long after the original telling. Spending time talking with Marion was one of the great privileges of this book.

  My thanks also to Eva Loeffler for helping me with details about her father, Sir Ludwig Guttmann, and for the explanations of events provided.