Wimbledon, a Tennis Ball, and the Rally That Changed Everything
As the Wimbledon final unfolds on Centre Court, the world is focused on serves, slices, and match points. For many, it’s about tradition, triumph, and athletic excellence. But for us at The Ability Company, a tennis ball has always meant something deeper. Not just sport. Not just competition. It represents joy, inclusion, and the moment everything changed. And no, our story didn’t start with a trophy. It started in 2001—on a regular day, on a tennis court, with two sisters and a tennis ball.
The Moment That Sparked Everything
That day, I took Patricia (Aka Trish) to the local tennis courts to just get out of the house. We weren’t planning anything big. We weren’t following rules or keeping score. We were just hitting the ball back and forth. But in that simple act of play, I saw something powerful in Trish: complete joy. Pure fun. Full participation. That wasn’t a game. That was freedom.
That moment has never left me. It shifted something in me — not only as her sister, but as a caregiver. It was the first time I understood how ability isn’t about performance — it’s about access, presence, and possibility.
When we came home, I felt something stir inside me. A calling, maybe. That moment led me to become a Personal Support Worker (PSW), a role I held for over 10 years. I wanted to recreate what I saw in Trish for others — for people with disabilities, and for the family members who care for them, love them, and walk beside them.
Because that moment on the court? It gave us both something. It gave us purpose.
The Rally We’ve Been Playing Ever Since
Looking back, that simple afternoon in 2001 was the very beginning of The Ability Company — even if we didn’t know it then. Because this work — disability advocacy, inclusive design, caregiver support—it’s not a sprint. It’s a long, often unpredictable, rally.
Just like tennis, it takes strategy. Grit. Adaptability. You adjust your stance. You read the room. You pace yourself. Some days you serve with confidence. Other days, you’re just trying to return the ball. There are setbacks, breakthroughs, and the constant need to pivot.
We understand that match deeply — because we live it.
Trish brings the lived experience of disability: navigating systems, spaces, and social barriers that weren’t made with her in mind. I bring the lens of the caregiver: often in the background, always planning for what’s next, showing up even when it’s hard. Together, we co-founded The Ability Company to honour both stories — because you can’t tell one without the other.
A Logo with a Legacy:
That tennis ball didn’t just inspire our story. It became our symbol. It’s literally in our logo. Because what started as a backyard moment between two sisters became the heartbeat of everything we stand for:
Joy without conditions
Movement without rules
Participation without permission
It’s not just a ball. It’s the start of a shift. When people ask us about the logo, we smile. Because behind that simple image is a whole history of love, laughter, and a rally we’re still in today.
Our Wimbledon Moment
As we watch the Wimbledon final this weekend, we’ll be cheering. Not just for the athletes, but for everything that tennis reminds us of.
The unpredictability.
The rhythm.
The ability to recover, re-centre, and keep going.
We’ll think of all the unsung matches happening off-screen:
A parent advocating for inclusive education
A young adult with a disability preparing for their first job interview
A caregiver managing meds, mealtimes, and meltdowns — still showing up
There are no trophies for those matches. But there should be. Because that’s where real ability shows up: in the quiet, determined acts of everyday life. The ones that aren’t broadcast but matter just as much. And so, as Centre Court gets the spotlight, we hold close to our roots — the tennis ball, the spark, the sisterhood.
That one hit between me and Trish 24 years ago wasn’t just a moment. It was the start of a movement.
