Lew Hoad was one of the most iconic players of the pre-Open Era, widely regarded by his peers as a player of unmatched natural ability. A product of Australia’s legendary tennis pipeline, he won multiple major titles as an amateur, including Wimbledon, the French Championships, and the Australian Championships, as they were known at the time. He was also a key contributor to Australia’s Davis Cup dominance in the 1950s. Physically powerful, instinctive, and explosive, Hoad was often described as unbeatable when healthy and focused, even by rivals who surpassed him in longevity and consistency. His career unfolded entirely before the Open Era, shaped by injury, amateur restrictions, and the eventual decision to turn professional under Jack Kramer. Hoad is one of the great “what-if” figures in tennis history.
My Game is Hoad’s personal memoir, primarily about his tennis-playing life, but also peppered with off-court personal details and observations. It is his unique first-person snapshot of the Australian tennis pipeline from the perspective of one of the most iconic players to emerge from that system. In addition to that insight, it is also a powerful personal account of the shadowy world of elite amateur competition in the 1950s. This book has been out of print for decades and is not especially easy to find. My own well-worn used copy was published in London, and I ordered it from overseas.
This book reads almost as a counterpoint to Ken Rosewall’s Muscles. Hoad and Rosewall were famously labeled “the twins” as they rose together through the Australian system, and their careers are forever intertwined. Yet My Game makes it clear that proximity did not equal closeness. Hoad is noticeably more candid than Rosewall about their relationship. They shared courts, tours, expectations, and national duty. They were on pleasant terms, but not close friends. That revelation is one of the more interesting undercurrents of the book.
No Australian tennis memoir from this era can avoid the gravitational pull of Harry Hopman, the iconic Australian coach. Hoad’s account is among the more positive portraits of the man when contrasted with the other players’ memoirs. What stands out in this book is not just Hopman’s obsession with fitness, but the degree to which training was individualized. Workloads and exercises were tailored to each player’s specific needs. This was not generic conditioning. It was intentional preparation long before sports science came into fashion.
Because Hoad was one of the more reluctant players to turn professional, his discussion of amateur life is nuanced. He explains how players were effectively supported while maintaining the fiction of amateurism. Sponsorships, stipends, and equipment arrangements kept careers viable. One telling example is his description of Dunlop paying him a stipend and providing a full off-court wardrobe before his first European tour. These passages help demystify how top players actually survived financially during this period.
My Game is firmly situated in the pre-Open Era and traces Hoad’s eventual decision to accept a professional contract from Jack Kramer. That decision was not made lightly, and Hoad’s reflections are more precisely detailed than those of players who eagerly embraced professionalism.
Like many tennis books of its time, My Game includes an instructional section. That was standard fare of the books of that era, and in many cases a practical necessity, since publishing was one of the few acceptable income streams for elite players. Much of the technical advice is dated, but not all of it. Hoad’s observations on fitness, balance, and serving with purpose still resonate. They reflect principles rather than prescriptions, which is why some of it remains useful.
Ultimately, this is not a book for casual fans. It is a period piece, a personal account, and a small but valuable artifact from a vanished era of the sport. For readers deeply interested in tennis history, especially the Australian golden age and the realities of amateur competition, My Game is well worth tracking down.
