Navigating limb loss is rarely a neat, linear story, and in the early days, the isolation can be stark.
For Adam Tannock (from Townsville) and Toby Popple (from Wagga Wagga)—both lower-limb amputees and members of the Australian Wheelchair Rugby League team—the path from traumatic workplace and vehicle accidents and complex hospital stays to elite sport was marked far more by practical hurdles, physical recovery, and dry pragmatism than simple inspiration.
The Reality of Trauma and Hospitalization
Both players faced severe, life-altering accidents that upended their careers and daily routines.
Adam’s injury happened during a routine workplace job involving a heavy machine when a 1.5 to 2-ton counterweight fell, hyperextending his leg and severing his veins.
He spent weeks undergoing repeated debridements—surgical cleanouts of dead tissue—describing the grueling hospital conditions where his leg was left open for daily checks, noting that it smelled like “raw dead meat” or “roadkill” at the end of the bed.
Toby’s experience followed a high-speed vehicle accident where he fell asleep at the wheel at 105 kilometres an hour with cruise control engaged, shooting down a dirt hill and crashing into a tree.
Left trapped in his van with a severe wrist break and his leg pinned under the front end, he managed to use his fingertips to drag his phone over, call his dad, and eventually wait for emergency services to cut him free.
Recalling the disorienting aftermath, Toby describes the shock settling in:
“Once the adrenaline wears off in the situation, the way everything starts moving and you can feel everything again and you realize that you’re sort of, I guess, in a way, realize how bad it is. But then you try and stop your brain from realizing that.”
Following extensive hospital stays, multiple surgeries, and failed attempts to save their limbs due to compartment syndrome and dying tissue, both men ultimately faced amputation.
Toby reflects on how his mother kept a meticulous record during his hospital stay:
“My mum was probably the biggest person in my corner that was keeping track of things. Mum had a diary that she wrote down every conversation that we had with nurses and doctors and everything, because after a little bit mum went this isn’t right.”
Reflecting on his own hospital stay and the constant humor required during recovery, Adam shares why he maintained a lighthearted attitude right after losing his leg:
“I’d heard someone say that I was always laughing and they sort of noticed that and I got asked, ‘Why? Why are you always laughing? Like, you’ve just had your leg cut off, but you’re sitting in a hospital bed cracking up, laughing. Why?’ I said, ‘Because if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.’ And I’ve got it tattooed on myself now that if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”
Adapting to the Sport
Finding adaptive sports wasn’t an immediate revelation or an easy transition either. While looking for ways to stay active despite not being able to run without bone splinters or pain, both gravitated toward wheelchair sports initially through local basketball contacts.
Toby explains his initial search for athletic outlets after high school:
“I did a bit of research, as you do, lying in a hospital bed and and you pull the phone out. And what are Paralympic sports? And you start looking at the list…
Describing the unique feeling of wheelchair rugby league, Toby notes:
“To be able to have that feeling of you are playing rugby league and it’s still doing everything that you would have done except you’re in a wheelchair, it sort of made life a lot more meaningful.”
When asked what it is like playing a wheelchair sport when they do not use a wheelchair in daily life, Toby explains:
“Once you jump in it and you start to get the hang of how to push a chair, it becomes like an attachment of your body. It’s similar to the prosthetic that once you get in it, you strap yourself in… and you feel a part of the chair. So once you start moving and gliding across the court, it honestly gives you a feeling like you’re running across a grass oval as a kid that you’re just gliding across the field.”
However, the gear itself is a major investment. Adam notes that his first custom-built wheelchair cost $15,000, pointing out that players have to navigate expensive equipment costs and manage their own setups without professional athletic salaries.
Toby shares a similar experience with equipment customization and setup issues:
“I was lucky enough to get my first chair covered by workers’ comp. But that chair sort of only got me so far. After playing in it for eighteen months, I realized how it’s probably not set up the way I needed to. I kept finding myself on the floor more than I was on my wheels… I ended up getting another chair last year and found myself a different player playing in that chair. So it makes a massive difference.”
The State of Origin and World Cup Campaign
Domestically, the sport revolves around a fiercely contested State of Origin series between Queensland and New South Wales. Adam points out how far the competition has come from its early, lopsided days when New South Wales dominated every match:
“It’s one of the things where it is the pinnacle of our game. Everyone looks forward to it. State of origin in rugby league, it’s the biggest thing in the calendar. For us it’s the exact same.”
That competitive intensity now extends to the international stage. Following a strong opening win against New Zealand in the World Cup, the squad faces established powerhouses like England and France.
As Adam notes regarding the tournament favorites:
“England and France are the two big dogs. They have been basically since the sport’s been around. This is the fifth World Cup and they’re the only two teams that have ever won it. So England and France are definitely the teams to beat.”
Behind the international fixtures is a very practical commitment of training camps, personal sacrifice, and managing family life alongside athletic goals.
As Toby emphasizes when discussing his focus outside of sport:
“For me, my biggest thing is like my family is my life. I’ve got four kids now, and I’m just trying to make sure I can be there to do everything I need to do for them. So as a part of that, I’ve been able to just to walk every day, been able to put the prosthetic on and continue walking.”
Ultimately, their involvement in the sport is less about pragmatism, community, and having a competitive outlet.
As Toby concludes when offering advice to others facing limb loss:
“There is help out there… If you are losing a limb, looking at losing your limb, going through a hard day doesn’t matter. You know what the circumstances are. There’s always tomorrow. Just stay positive. There’s always people around you. If you see someone that is an amputee, most of us are more than happy for a conversation… and you’re definitely not alone.”
