An Albanian and an older liberal played tennis for two hours while throwing the Prime Minister

According to him, tennis appealed because he was mentally relentless. A sport that requires maximum concentration.

“I find it’s a pretty useful use of my time for my mental health,” he once explained.

The bond went through every phase of parliamentary life with the Albanians.

From approximately 2016 to 2021, when the parliament was in session, Albanians appeared every Thursday early morning at the parliament building to meet colleagues in society.

Winters in Canberra are often sub-zero, but a core group of four tennis lovers would reliably turn out. Among them was Liberal John Alexander – known as “JA” – a former world number eight and Davis Cup player who was the most sought-after doubles partner among MPs.

Nationals MP Kevin Hogan, a solid club player with an incredible lob, and Labor’s Peter Khalil, who once competed as a junior at the Australian Open and briefly toured the European circuit, rounded out the foursome.

Politics, that blow, was largely sidelined. The political hierarchies that dominate the walls of Parliament were razed to the ground in court. Only JA came with a higher status.

Other MPs have also been included in these parliamentary hits, including former Treasurer Josh Frydenberg, Nationals MP Darren Chester and Labour’s Luke Gosling and Meryl Swanson.

As much as this infuriated the Albanians, Hogan and JA often claimed the victory. Hogan and Alexander both recall early games when the Albanians and Khalil were so eager to beat their coalition opponents that Labor made repeated unforced errors.

“The harder they tried, the more mistakes they made,” Alexander said. “But it was great fun. We made a lot of good friends.”

In August 2018, during a tumultuous and chaotic week in Canberra that ended with the appointment of Malcolm Turnbull as prime minister, a rejected Alexander telephoned the Albanian and offered him a tennis lesson.

The pair practiced for two hours on the courts at Parliament House while his colleagues worked their phones and counted inside.

“He was a great student, he learned things quickly and he really tried,” Alexander told this masthead.

“We did everything from groundstrokes to serves and volleys.

When Alexander retired, the Albanian later thanked JA in Parliament for teaching him “to do the kick on the second serve”.

Alexander also recalls teaming up with the Albanian in doubles.

“We were playing together and he was a little too close to the net. The ball went over his head and he looked at me to get it. I’m over 10 years older than him and I have a bad hip. Men when they come to the net have to be responsible for their own lobs. He got it,” he said.

Khalil, who is the assistant minister of defense and once defeated Mark Philippoussis as a teenager, described Albanese as a “very strong” club player.

“She has a strong forehand and a decent volley,” he said.

“He also has some strength, but his best quality is his mental toughness.

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Others echo this assessment. Despite a few technical quirks – including a questionable grip – the Albanian’s detractors say he fights for every shot. They also agree that he refuses to award points cheaply, with disputed points even attracting their own name – “Albo calls”.

This competitive advantage was visible early on. According to his biography, Albanian – I’ll say it straightby Karen Middleton, published in 2016, at Albanese School, he challenges the decision to award the tennis title to his best friend after the finals are flooded by rain.

His relationship with tennis did not disappear even with high office. In May 2022, after his first full week as prime minister, the Albanian celebrated the moment not with ceremony but with routine, appearing at his local tennis club to play doubles in the Sydney Badge competition.

Marrickville won six sets to two.

Tennis, he said, offered an escape. “You hit the ball over the net and between the lines, you can’t think about other things like what’s going on in the world or climate change or the decision-making processes you have to make,” he once said.

Tennis, for Albanians, was also used to build relationships. Over the years, MPs and other prominent Australian figures have been invited to the hit, including his Canberra home, The Lodge.

Albanese joked that becoming Prime Minister was the only way he could live in a house with a tennis court.

Those lucky enough to receive such an invitation are hesitant to divulge too many details, but say it offered them invaluable access to a hit and a drink with the laid-back Prime Minister.

As his authority grew in Canberra, so did the opportunities the game presented.

The Sydneysider is also a regular at the Australian Open in Melbourne, which in January acts as a center of soft power where politics, corporate Australia and lobbying converge under the guise of the Grand Slam.

Parliamentary records show several taxpayer-funded trips linked to tennis, including flights, allowances and car expenses – travel he has consistently defended as legitimate and within the rules.

His explanation was consistent: tennis was never the sole purpose of the trip. As with many major sporting events, the lines are not always sharply drawn.

His case is distinguished by the fact that the interest itself is long-term. Unlike the performative sports performances that occasionally mark political life, the Albanian’s relationship with tennis predates his political power.

That didn’t stop the hectors. In 2024, he was jeered and booed at Rod Laver Arena when he was recognized in the men’s Australian Open final.

While tennis offered him an escape, his work repeatedly found its way onto the court. In October 2011, as Qantas prepared to ground its fleet in response to industrial action, the Albanian – then transport minister – was playing tennis at a club competition in Marrickville when he received a call from an adviser who told him to expect an urgent contact from Qantas chief executive Alan Joyce.

Albanese tried Joyce’s cell phone twice without success, leaving a highlighted message before finally calling. Joyce told him the airline would be grounded within hours. Albanese told him it was a bad decision.

Again, in 2024, events outside the court interrupted his routine when Albanese was photographed play tennis at Perth’s Cottesloe Tennis Club shortly after the Melbourne synagogue explosion. His “exercise” routine was presented to some as detachment.

His tennis game has been interrupted – a car accident in 2021 and a dislocated finger in an Australian Rules charity match – but neither has disrupted the routine for long.

The habit persists. He surprised the locals at Collaroy Tennis Club last August when he arrived – unaccompanied – to represent Marrickville in the Division 9 Badge men’s team semi-final.

When they called “Mr. Prime Minister,” he waved his hand. In court, he said, there was only Anthony.

In terms of scores, he was beaten overall.