The Serve That Changed Everything: A Tennis Injury's Impact

The serve that tore a life apart came on an ordinary family afternoon.

A doubles match. His wife on his side of the net, her daughter and son-in-law on the other. No trophies at stake, no ranking points, just pride and pace.

About three-quarters of the way through the first set, the former competitive tennis player loaded up a big first serve. He estimates it at around 112km/h – harder than anything else he’d hit that day.

He felt it the instant the ball left the strings.

“Right after I hit the serve, I thought, wow, my shoulder hurts.”

He kept going. Competitors do. He pushed through the rest of the set, tried to hit through the pain. By the following set, reality arrived. He could no longer hit a backhand without sharp discomfort. The arm that had served him since childhood suddenly wouldn’t cooperate.

The next month brought X-rays, ultrasound, and finally an orthopaedic surgeon. The MRI told the full story: a full-thickness tear of the supraspinatus tendon, 16mm of tendon retraction, tendinopathy, and muscle atrophy. The sort of report that ends seasons and rewrites daily routines.

The surgeon recommended surgical repair.

ACC said no.

In January 2025, the agency declined cover, relying on advice from its clinical adviser, a physiotherapist. The adviser looked at the file and decided the way the injury had been recorded – “hitting the ball awkwardly and hurting his shoulder” and, elsewhere, an “awkward overhead shot and wrenching his shoulder” – didn’t match the kind of unexpected, high-energy force usually seen in a traumatic rotator cuff tear.

Age, tendon retraction, tendinopathy, and muscle changes all counted against him in that assessment. To the adviser, they pointed to degeneration, not a single damaging moment.

Probst, who had played tennis since he was a child and stayed “incredibly active for his age”, didn’t accept that. Not the description. Not the conclusion. He argued the paperwork didn’t come close to capturing the violence of that serve.

Before the accident, he swam three times a week. He surfed. He paddled. He had no shoulder problems. After the serve, everything stopped. Tennis, swimming, surfing, paddling. He avoided pulling or lifting with his right arm. A lifetime of movement shut down overnight.

So he fought.

First on his own, challenging ACC without legal help.

“Because it was wrong,” he said of his decision to keep pushing. When people tried to “get away with something that is incorrect and take advantage of people’s unwillingness or inability to challenge stuff,” that, he said, fired him up.

Eventually he brought in a lawyer. The case went to review.

This time, someone listened to the full story.

The reviewer found that Probst’s tear was caused by the February 2024 accident, not wholly or substantially by any pre-existing condition or degenerative process. The decision noted that ACC’s clinical adviser had never had the original ultrasound or the initial physiotherapy notes, and had not properly engaged with Probst’s own account of how the injury occurred.

The reviewer highlighted key details that had been sidelined: the immediate pain after the serve, the clear timing between the accident and the onset of symptoms, and Probst’s history of being highly active without any prior shoulder issues. The MRI, the reviewer added, did not describe moderate or severe degeneration.

The conclusion was blunt.

The ACC physiotherapist, the decision said, had misunderstood the mechanism of injury, commented without a full clinical picture, and failed to explain why he believed degeneration was the main cause with “no more than minimal” contribution from the accident.

The orthopaedic surgeon, who had actually examined Probst, carried more weight than a paper review.

ACC head of service operations Phil Riley later described cases like this as “clinically complex”, the kind where professionals can look at the same information and reach different conclusions. Treating specialists, he said, play an important role, but their views sit alongside other medical input, and ACC can seek further specialist advice.

He pointed to guidelines developed with orthopaedic specialists to support “consistent and accurate decision making”. On the first pass through Probst’s file, ACC said it could not determine that his condition was caused by the accident, even after weighing that guidance.

At the review hearing, Probst supplied more information. This time, it changed the outcome.

“We accept the reviewer’s decision and have approved cover and funded Mr Probst’s surgery,” Riley said.

Victory, but not unqualified.

“I was happy that the time and the money that I’d expended, and the mental effort had paid off, that you could prevail against an unjust decision,” Probst said.

“But it is bittersweet because it could have been done a year earlier and I could have risked further injury during that time period.”

The reviewer awarded him $1218.13 in review costs. After ACC’s contribution, he still carried $3206.87 in legal bills.

Riley stressed that reviews are free to lodge. Clients don’t need a lawyer, he said; they can represent themselves or lean on an advocate, family member, or other representative, and ACC may contribute to review-related costs. He also pointed to a free Navigation Service designed to offer independent guidance and support.

Behind this one case sits a sharper trend.

ACC figures show the proportion of rotator cuff surgery purchase orders being declined has climbed from 22% in 2024 to 35% in 2025. Across all orthopaedic surgery, declines have risen from 18% to 26%. More people, in other words, are being told no.

That’s why Probst chose to go public. He’d heard from others who believed their ACC claims had been wrongly declined and didn’t want his fight to end at his own file.

His message to anyone convinced ACC has got their case wrong is short and pointed.

Challenge it.