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Wheelchair rugby is the high-octane sport that was officially named Murderball before its re-branding in the late 1980s. Not many sports require a team of court-side welders in case one of the explosive crashes results in a mangled chair, but the only full-contact sport in the Paralympics blends high-scoring, end-to-end action with noisy thrills and spills. It could be the TV hit of the Games.
So what does a reigning Paralympic champion do ahead of taking to the wheelchair rugby court? Well, if you’re Team GB’s veteran speedster Aaron Phipps, you keep it simple.
“I have a cup of tea, then go out to war,” says 41-year-old Phipps, whose trademark headband and bursts of speed made him one of the stars of the Tokyo gold medal-winning squad.
“It’s a balancing act for me. You need to get fired up because it’s a full-contact sport and we will be playing the very best players in the world.
“But you want to be relaxed enough to make good decisions for your teammates. So I go through my processes. I write down what I want to do in the game, like a mind map on a piece of paper. And then I have a cup of tea. Very British!”
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It’s two weeks before Great Britain’s wheelchair rugby team take to the court for their first group match in Paris when we speak. Phipps is at home in Southampton. This is the calm before the storm. The weeks of hardcore, high-intensity training camps are done, and Phipps is tapering his workouts to ensure he is fully rested before Paris. Instead of speed drills, he’s been out and about with his two daughters, doing some school holiday heavy lifting before one last training camp and flying out for a date with destiny.
Dan Kellett. Image: Sam Mellish / Paralympics GB
Joining him this time, for his Paralympics debut, is West Coast Crash player Dan Kellett. His wife and three children, plus his parents, are coming to Paris to cheer him on.
“I’ve been quite nervous about it,” says Kellett, 32, who lives in Wrexham, where the family have a smallholding. “But the adrenaline is taking over now. I can’t wait to get out there.”
The level of focus on wheelchair rugby is about to ramp up. While this is a year-round sport in which Phipps regularly stars for London Wheelchair Rugby Club, the Paralympics is another level. In Tokyo, they were underdogs. Now, they are defending champions.
“We went from fifth in the world in the middle of a pandemic with no resources to a gold medal,” says Phipps. “This was the first GB team in any sport to win gold at the Paralympics. It was just pure elation. Phenomenal. And knowing everyone was supporting us was really something special.”
One thing the team did not have in Tokyo was a big crowd. This adrenaline-fuelled sport is made for a noisy arena. But Phipps and his teammates won a hard-fought gold medal match 54-49 against the US in front of a few officials and some cunning Paralympians at the lockdown games of 2021.
“At club level, we’re used to playing in front of smaller crowds,” says Phipps, whose wife Vicky and their daughters Emma and Chloe will be cheering him on in Paris. “But it was a bit weird. Some people from Team GB managed to get into the Tokyo Arena, though. We grew about four physios – people were walking in, going, ‘Yeah, I’m another physio’ or ‘I’m the team’s media liaison’. They blagged it in and made quite a lot of noise, which was great.
But Paris is going to feel different again. It’s so close it’s almost like a home Games. The noisiest is going to be playing France on Saturday night in our final group game. That’s going to sell out, there will be a big, crazy French crowd. We’re going to have to try and keep them quiet by playing hard.”
Playing hard is right. “Most of the players still call it Murderball,” says Kellett. “People are shocked that it looks so rough. But it is rough. You’ve got the speed of the game, the big hits, people falling out of the chairs and just the noise of two chairs hitting together. All the teams in Paris are so closely matched.”
Phipps continues: “That ethos of rugby has come through to our sport. We beat the rubbish out of each other on court. But then, for example after we beat Japan in the semi-final in Tokyo, knocking them out of the gold medal match, they were in our dressing room congratulating us.
“When we’re playing, it’s horrible. But afterwards, we’re nice.”
How horrible does it get? Expect to see chairs and athletes flying in the air – not always in tandem. Phipps explains that the chairs are designed to have contact points at the same height for safety, and that contact is allowed from the middle of the back axle, all round the front of the chair to the other big back wheel. “I’ve broken fingers and wrists but the wheelchairs take the brunt of the hits,” says Phipps. “Our wheelchairs break more than we do. Spectators see us flying, but we’re strapped in and generally OK.”
It’s still a shock, though, to see people with disabilities taking such massive hits. Maybe it shouldn’t be.
“People will watch for the first time at the Paralympics and go, ‘What the hell is going on?’” says Phipps. “It’s funny, we get so used to it, but this sport is literally people in wheelchairs, some of whom are incredibly disabled, trying to smash other people out of their wheelchairs, or getting turned over and landing on their head.
“But perceptions are changing. When you compare it to able-bodied sports, rugby is loads of contact, in martial arts people are trying to kick each other in the head. Just because we’re disabled doesn’t mean we don’t have that fire in our belly of wanting to compete. Some of the nastiest people I know on the court are the most disabled.”
Team GB brought home the gold – their first ever medal in wheelchair rugby – at Tokyo 2020 Paralympics. Image: Megumi Masuda
Kellett was 20 when his life changed overnight following an accident at work. Wheelchair rugby found him very quickly – and has been a key driver of his recovery.
“I was in hospital after my accident, and an ex-Paralympic player came around speaking to patients,” he says. “They asked if I fancied coming and trying wheelchair rugby, so while I was still in hospital the nurses took me to the sports hall to give it a go.
“Speaking to other people in wheelchairs really helped me. At first, I wasn’t very strong or fast, but it gave me a reason to keep going and get strong. It’s given me my independence back. Having to be strong to play wheelchair rugby makes everyday life a lot easier, things like getting in and out of the car.”
When he isn’t tearing around on the wheelchair rugby court, or after his kids in Southampton, Phipps can also be found climbing mountains. Is his desire to challenge himself a way of showing his teenage self, who went through such a profound and difficult change after contracting meningitis aged 15, what is possible? He thinks for a second.
“Showing that 15-year-old what’s possible? I’m stealing that. I think you’re right,” he says. “I’ve got a massive chip on my shoulder from nearly dying. I tend to take opportunities and agree to things I probably wouldn’t have done otherwise.
“My message to anyone out there is that you never know what’s around the corner. I was a healthy, able-bodied, 15-year-old – and within 12 hours was on a life support machine and becoming an amputee.”
Phipps came into the sport “by complete fluke”. After doing a 10k race for charity, he began racing more often, ending up in the London Marathon.
“The first time I did it in two and a half hours, then I trained my backside off and did the next one in less than two hours. I was fourth UK male, which sounds better than it was. I was beaten by loads of international athletes and lots of elite women.
GBWR Quad Nations Day 1, Sport Wales National Centre, 16 April 2024. Image: Claire Jones
“But I did get headhunted by a wheelchair rugby team. And that’s how it started. In my first session, I got smashed out of my wheelchair. I’d never seen the sport before. And never been hit out of my wheelchair before. But I loved it. And I thought, I want to hit you back – it brought out a dark side I didn’t know I had. And the rest is history!”
Now Phipps is one of the veterans in Team GB’s squad as they take on Denmark, Australia and France in the group before, hopefully, advancing to defend the gold medal.
They want our support. “If anyone reads this, send us messages on social media. We read everything. And it really gets us in the feelings to know we have the support of fans back home.”
The dialogue between fans and athletes is a vital part of what makes the Paralympics so special. Sport has been a lifeline for Phipps and Kellett. And will be for more people in the future.
“I wouldn’t be doing things like this if I hadn’t been ill,” says Phipps. “But nearly dying will do that for you. It was a massive kick up the bum and gave me a drive I’d never had before.
“It was the worst and best thing that has ever happened to me. What I’d like to be able to do is go back to that scared 15-year-old and go, do you know what, mate? It works out all right in the end.
“And that’s the thing with the Paralympics. When I was poorly in 1999, the Paralympics didn’t have the profile it has now. You didn’t see people like me in the media. I like to think now that if some young person is going through what we went through, just seeing us – and I’m not saying we’re all role models – but seeing people that look like you cracking on with it and playing sport, or disabled journalists covering the games, is a really big deal.
“It’s normalising disability – which is brilliant.”
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