J “Gizmo” Hall loves when he can do nothing. He savors the rare times he can relax outside at his farm and delight in a gentle breeze that lingers. His desire for quiet isn’t because of his hectic schedule as a professional pickleball player and motivational speaker. Hall needs solace to offset his past.
“I’m a broken man. People would have to know how hard and how fast I used to live to understand why,” Hall said.
Hall wears his past on his sleeve for others to learn from and not duplicate his mistakes. He visits underprivileged youth, donates pickleball equipment in every city he plays, and teaches the sport as a tool for positive change. He speaks in juvenile and adult facilities, inspiring those imprisoned not to give up or lose hope. He wants people to believe in themselves and use the game to keep their mind busy and stay out of trouble.
Hall has had his share of trouble and considers himself lucky to be alive. When he was 20 years old he was shot 4 times and lay sprawled out on the ground in pain. The shooter stood over him and pointed a gun directly at his face for one final shot. It wasn’t the first time Hall had a gun pointed at him, nor the last. A product of his environment, he sold drugs to survive and fit in. Hall stared wide-eyed at the weapon when the final shot failed to fire. He survived.
“There were a lot of different points in my life where it was like, do I go left or do I go right? When I was a kid, I read those books where if you want this ending, you jump to page 36, or if you want that ending, jump to page 57. I had a lot of those moments in my life, for sure,” Hall said.
Hall hardly knew his father and his parents were never married. His mother worked multiple jobs but seldom had enough, and their home was often without lights, gas, food, or water.
“The utilities were cut off for so long that when my mother could cut them back on, it started a new account. It had been so long with them off there was no past due. It was like we were new customers.”
By the time Hall was in 7th grade, he was expelled and no longer eligible to attend Virginia county schools for the year. His mother sent him to California to live with his dad for a year. It was hard for him to adjust. He found his father to be a stranger.
“I knew who he was supposed to be, but he hadn’t been that in my life. So it was kind of hard to treat him as such. We definitely butted heads. He was a former marine corps drill Sergeant.”
Hall was able to get the credits needed to pass 7th grade but remained distant from his father. He returned to his mother in Dale City, Virginia to attend 8th grade and at that time, found the streets to be a comfort.
“In middle school you are trying to find your identity, trying to fit in, trying to do a bunch of moving and shaking. If you don’t have guidance, good, bad or indifferent, your balance can go off to the negative side,” he said.
In high school, Hall began to fight with more significant issues, a battle that he fights to this day, his mental health. Living in poverty often left him afraid and in a very dark place. He had low self-esteem, and sometimes without heat or lights, his thoughts would center on sadness.
“As far as fitting in, I only did fit in in high school because I sold drugs,” he said.
He barely had 4 credits after his sophomore year in high school and had to return to California to participate in a program to get caught up. Once again he clashed with his father, angry at just how little he was in his life. He returned to finish school in Virginia and continued getting into trouble.
“I couldn’t play any sports. I didn’t make any teams; I wasn’t eligible academically.”
His mother struggled to keep the house together and tried to help her son. She put him in the scared straight program. It was hard for him to change. Hall was barely getting by in school, and people seemed to care about him only when he lived outside the law.
“For me, I had no positive role models in my life. The drug dealers and streets were my role models. Oh, ok, that looks cool. That is how they got that. Well, now I will do that. The people you are surrounded by are going to rub off on you,” he said.
In a high school with almost 600 students, Hall was in the bottom 3 when he graduated. He had no plan, so he continued to live hard and fast. It all caught up to him when he was shot. He needed multiple surgeries, and the recovery was challenging mentally and physically. It was the first time in his life that ideas about change began to surface. It wasn’t overnight, but things started to penetrate.
“After I got shot, I had to live with my Godmother because my mother didn’t have a place for me to stay. My Godmother and I were standing in her kitchen one day, and she said you have to get to a point where you figure out what you will do. You are 20 years old by the age of 21. You better of had this figured out. I still didn’t, but it got to a point where I wanted to be a contributing member of society,” he said.
Every surgery during his recovery was a constant reminder of his mistakes and how he was hurting himself. Hall pondered his Godmother’s statement, “You better of had this figured out.” The shooting itself resulted from an argument that got out of hand. It resulted from being around people whose reactions could be harsh and reckless. He knew violence would always be nearby if he remained in the streets but violence wasn’t his nature.
“I always liked helping people. I decided to join the volunteer fire department. I also started working in the ER,” he said.
Hall set himself on a new path and took on the hard work of helping people. He developed a goal of one day being a paid Firefighter. He taught himself lessons needed for success, like dependability, responsibility, and managing finances.
He spent 10 years volunteering and went to paramedic school at night. He didn’t regress or give up. He faced stress and long hours. Hall called it a response to God’s plans.
“When I was on the ground, and the gun was in the face, it was like when I was a kid playing video games. You play mortal combat, and you get beat, and if you want to continue, you need to put another quarter in, and I’m on the ground scrambling, trying to find a quarter. I didn’t have a quarter, and God was standing there. I got a quarter in my pocket, but I’m not just going to just give it to you. If I give it to you, you got to do it my way because this is how things turn out when you do it your way,” he said.
He met his wife, Laine, also a volunteer, at the fire department. When he finally asked her out, she told him no. She continued to tell him no for 4 years. He kept asking.
“Once she said yes, the rest was history,” he said. “Without her, there is no me. I’m a mess. I shoot from the hip daily. She keeps me grounded and guides me.”
She guided him through his volunteer years with the fire department and when he became a paid employee. She is there to support him during the lack of sleep, PTSD, and other mental struggles many first responders battle daily. She has even seen him suicidal and held him up and encouraged him when a saving grace came into his life.
He found pickleball unexpectedly at a local community center during a low point and like so many others, he fell in love with it. Once he learned the game he practiced constantly, improving with each outing. He wanted to be his own boss so he wouldn’t have to work for someone else or miss another family function due to his job. He remembered how devastating it was to miss his daughter’s first day of kindergarten.
“I spoke it to life. I am going to play pickleball professionally. That is what I told my wife, she was then my girlfriend. That is what I told my mom. That is what I told everybody,” he said.
The plan was to play professional pickleball, pay the bills, win and travel. The idea was sound, but things would shift. As he began his journey and shared the stories of his life with others, whether how he escaped his past poverty-driven street life or how he lives with mental health issues daily, these open conversations helped people. Hall loves helping people. His reason for playing changed.
“I’m not doing this for fame. I’m not doing this as a facade. There is no hidden agenda. Pickleball is just a vehicle that allows me to chase my mission, and that is ministering to whoever I can get in front of and teaching pickleball to help them, whether it be on the juvenile or adult sides,” he said.
Hall began to plan his tournaments around appearances at juvenile facilities, adult facilities, schools, and underprivileged neighborhoods. Anyone allowing him to get in front of them and share became his main objective. He doesn’t just share his story. He introduces multiple programs, including financial literacy.
“That plays a part in what I do. Trying to break generational curses, not for only myself and my family, but those I come into contact with. There are a lot of people that come from households similar to where I have come from and they are going through the same thing. Not necessarily that they don’t make enough money, that they aren’t making smart decisions with the money that they make.”
He likes to insert himself into the lives of people that need him. He doesn’t walk away after a program concludes. He keeps coming back. His mission became his ministry.
“People ask me why I do what I do. I want to be the person I needed and never got. For any person that I come into contact with.”
Hall never hesitates to pay for equipment or anything needed for his clinics. While other players in the same tournaments visit the city or look for open play, he is most often hunting for people to help. His sponsors realize that for Hall, gold is kids escaping the prison pipeline, and they help.
“I am a man on a mission and here to serve. Once I had that mentality, the universe put me in touch with people with that mentality. So that we can put our goals together and change the world. Because if everyone does a little bit, nobody has got to do a lot,” he said.
Even his social media posts are written around his mental health struggles to help people daily. He uses everything at his disposal. He and his wife have a small farm with a pickleball court alongside the animals. It too is an opportunity for programming. He has achieved success. He can now choose his travel locations to help him set up talks.
“My career isn’t pickleball; my career is my ministry and me doing what I do. None of my sponsorships are about me having to hit the podium for how good I play. I don’t do deals like that; I do deals with companies where we mutually benefit each other, and I get to be myself. They want to be associated with who I am. We work together. And we have great relationships. Nothing I do is money motivated. I won’t tell people I like a product for any amount of money.”
Hall’s escape is the country and his small farm. He savors the rare moments. His life is an open book, and his mind fights with him daily. He knows the highs and lows of serving others, putting himself in front of others pain he can’t always heal. Hall accepts that the last 4 years after leaving the fire department have been a roller coaster and pledges he will spend the rest of his days on earth being his authentic self and nothing less to move forward with his ministry. He is eager for the next chance to help someone and be the positive role model he never had.
If you or someone you know needs support now, call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org.
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