In the world of wheelchair tennis – where athletes compete with extraordinary precision, mental discipline, and heart – Guy Sasson stands out as one of Israel’s most inspiring competitors. His path to the sport was anything but conventional. Following a devastating snowboarding accident, what began as a modest rehabilitation exercise soon evolved into a passion, then into a calling, and finally into a professional career representing the State of Israel on the international stage.
While wheelchair tennis does not always draw large crowds, those who do gather – often including clusters of Israeli and Jewish supporters waving flags or calling out encouragement – create an atmosphere that is uniquely meaningful for Sasson. For him, each match is far more than a competition. It is an expression of resilience, identity, and purpose. His personal journey mirrors the themes he carries with him on court: rebuilding, perseverance, and unwavering determination.
In this interview, Sasson reflects on representing Israel during turbulent times, the powerful mental strategies required at the elite level, and his hopes for the next generation of Israeli wheelchair tennis players.
As an Israeli athlete competing on a global stage like the U.S. Open, especially during these current times, what does it mean to you to represent the State of Israel, and what kind of messages of hope or resilience do you feel you convey? Have you felt antisemitic sentiment during the grand slam or other international tournaments?
Guy Sasson: Representing Israel on the biggest stages in the world is a privilege I never take for granted. Especially in times when Israel is going through enormous challenges, I feel that every time I step on the court, I’m carrying the flag with me – not just physically on my shirt, but in my heart.
For me, it’s about showing resilience, dignity, and the strength of the human spirit. My journey after the accident, my comeback to sport, and my commitment to competing at the highest level – all of that reflects the story of Israel itself: we don’t give up, we rebuild, and we keep moving forward.
Regarding antisemitism, I can say that at the Grand Slams I’ve personally felt mostly welcomed and respected. Tennis is generally a sport where players treat one another professionally. Of course, with everything happening in the world, there can be moments or atmospheres that feel tense, but on the court and inside the tournaments, I’ve been treated well. And when I do feel pressure or any negativity, I try to turn it into motivation – it reminds me why representing Israel matters so much.
What has the support from the Jewish and Israeli community at your tournaments been like? Can you describe the feeling when you see that specific cheering section, and how does that palpable support impact your focus and morale on the court?
The support from the Jewish and Israeli community has been truly incredible. When I look up and see that section of fans with Israeli flags, or people shouting “Yalla Guy!” it gives me real energy.
Wheelchair tennis doesn’t always get the huge crowds, so when you feel that concentrated, passionate support – it hits you straight in the heart. It reminds me that I’m not playing only for myself; I’m playing for people who see themselves in my story, people who want something to cheer for, something to feel proud about.
It definitely boosts my morale, and it keeps me focused. When I’m tired or under pressure, I think of them, and it gives me that extra push to fight for every point.
You won the doubles title with Niels Vink shortly after he ended your run in the singles draw. How do you mentally “reset” and separate that fierce singles rivalry from the total trust and teamwork required to be a winning doubles partnership?
This is something unique about our sport: the guy who just knocked you out of singles becomes your partner an hour later. With Niels, it’s actually very natural because we have so much mutual respect.
After a singles match, there’s disappointment, of course. But when it’s time for doubles, you hit a mental reset button. You remind yourself that the goal now is teamwork, trust, and collective strategy. Niels and I both want to win, and we both understand that doubles require a different mindset.
We talk openly, we laugh, we switch the energy. In a way, the rivalry makes the partnership stronger – we push each other to be better, and then we bring that competitiveness into a shared goal.
How do you balance the demanding life of a world-class athlete – the training, travel, and competition – with your family life, and do you incorporate any Jewish rituals or customs into your competitive schedule?
Balancing this career with family life is probably my biggest challenge. Tennis requires constant travel, long training days, and time away from home. I’m incredibly lucky to have a supportive wife and kids who understand what this journey means to me. When I’m home, I try to be fully present – no distractions, just family.
As for Jewish life, I do try to keep certain rituals even when I’m on the road. putting on Tefillin in the mornings before matches – it keeps me grounded and connected. These small moments remind me where I come from and what values I represent.
Can you share more about the initial role tennis played in your rehabilitation after your snowboarding accident, and at what point did you realize that playing professionally for Israel was an attainable goal?
After my snowboarding accident, tennis started simply as a form of rehabilitation – something to get me out, moving, and rebuilding my independence. At first, I didn’t approach it with the mindset of becoming a professional athlete. It was physical therapy that happened to be fun.
The moment things changed was when I started competing in small tournaments and realized I could actually win. I saw progress, I saw that my game fit the quad category well, and my competitive fire came back. Little by little, the dream formed.
Representing Israel professionally wasn’t just attainable – it became a mission. It gave me purpose beyond myself, and it helped me turn a traumatic event into a platform for achievement.
Beyond your own performance, how important is it for you to mentor younger Israeli players, like your compatriot Sergei Lysov, and build a legacy for Israeli wheelchair tennis?
This is extremely important to me. Israel is a small country, and in wheelchair tennis, every new player matters. Seeing younger athletes – like Sergei Lysov – coming up and believing that they can succeed on the world stage is something that gives me tremendous pride.
I didn’t have many role models in Israeli wheelchair tennis when I began, so if I can be that person for the next generation, it means a lot. The medals and titles are amazing, but creating a pathway for more Israeli players, helping them believe in themselves, and showing them that anything is possible – that’s the real legacy I want to leave.
What is the single biggest mental challenge in competing in the elite Quad division, and what mental strategies do you employ to maintain focus during long, high-pressure matches?
For me, the challenge is staying fully present when things get tough: when my body starts to fatigue, when my serve isn’t working, or when a match becomes a long tactical battle. In those moments, it’s easy for frustration or self-doubt to slip in.
My mental strategies are simple but powerful:
Stay in the “one point at a time” mindset.
I never think beyond the next point. Not the score, not the outcome, not the last mistake. Just the next ball. It keeps the match small and manageable.
Controlled breathing.
I use deep, steady breaths before big points and between games. It slows down the heart rate and clears the mind. It also helps prevent emotional reactions that waste energy.
These strategies help me stay composed during long, intense matches. In the Quad division, mental strength isn’t just an advantage – it’s the deciding factor.