In 1998, a guy named Casey Martin changed the legal landscape of professional sports forever. He didn't do it with a record-breaking drive or a historic Sunday at Augusta. Honestly, he did it by sitting down.
While the rest of the golf world was obsessing over a young Tiger Woods, Martin was fighting for his life—and his career—in a federal courtroom. He had a rare circulatory condition called Klippel-Trenaunay-Weber syndrome. It’s a mouthful, but basically, it meant the blood in his right leg didn't flow back to his heart properly. Walking 18 holes wasn't just tired legs for him. It was excruciating. It was dangerous.
The Lawsuit That Divided the Fairway
The PGA Tour was not having it. They argued that "athletic fatigue" was a core part of the game. If you let one guy ride in a cart, you're fundamentally altering the sport. That was their stance.
They even brought in legends like Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer to testify. These icons sat there and basically said that walking is golf. If you aren't walking, you aren't competing. It felt personal. You've got the most famous names in the sport essentially telling a guy with a withered leg that he doesn't belong because he needs four wheels and a battery.
Martin's argument was simpler: "I just want to play."
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The case, PGA Tour, Inc. v. Martin, went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. In 2001, the court ruled 7-2 in Martin's favor. Justice John Paul Stevens famously wrote that the "essence of the game" is shot-making, not walking. He pointed out that Casey Martin was already more fatigued from the pain of his condition than any healthy golfer was from walking five miles.
A Career Defined by More Than a Cart
People sometimes forget that Martin was actually a stick. He wasn't some guy looking for a shortcut. He was a three-time All-Pac-10 player at Stanford. He was teammates with Tiger.
- 1994: Won the NCAA Championship with Stanford.
- 1998: Won the Lakeland Classic on the Nike Tour.
- 1998: Tied for 23rd at the U.S. Open while the legal battle was peaking.
- 1999: Finished 14th on the Nike Tour money list to earn his PGA Tour card.
He proved he belonged. But the physical toll was relentless. By 2000, he lost his PGA Tour card. He played where he could, but his leg was a ticking time bomb. The syndrome caused his leg bones to become brittle and his veins to bulge.
The Turning Point: October 2019
For years, Martin managed the pain as the head coach of the University of Oregon men's golf team. He was good at it, too. He led the Ducks to a national title in 2016. But the "inevitable" finally happened on a random night in 2019.
He was taking out the trash. Just a normal, everyday chore. He stepped off a curb, his brittle tibia snapped, and that was it. Because of his circulatory issues, the leg wouldn't heal. It couldn't.
In October 2021, doctors at the Mayo Clinic performed an above-the-knee amputation.
Where Casey Martin is Now (2026)
Fast forward to 2026. If you're looking for Casey Martin today, you'll still find him in Eugene. He’s 53 now. He still coaches the Oregon Ducks, though the job looks a little different than it used to.
The phantom pain is real. He’s been very open about the fact that the amputation wasn't a "magic fix" for his suffering. It’s a different kind of pain now. He uses a prosthetic, but he often relies on a cane or a scooter to get around the facility. He can't really play golf anymore, which is a tough pill to swallow for a guy who fought the Supreme Court just to stay on the grass.
But he’s still the same guy. He’s still mentoring kids who weren't even born when his case was in the news.
Why We Still Talk About Him
The Casey Martin story isn't actually about a golf cart. It’s about the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and the definition of "reasonable accommodation."
Before Martin, sports leagues felt they were exempt from these rules because they were "private" competitions. The Supreme Court said no. They ruled that because the PGA Tour operates on public golf courses and sells tickets to the public, it’s a "public accommodation."
This opened the door for thousands of other athletes and workers to demand a fair shake. It shifted the conversation from "what is traditional" to "what is actually necessary."
What You Can Take Away From the Casey Martin Legacy
If you’re looking for the "so what" here, it’s about persistence in the face of institutional pushback.
- Understand the ADA: If you or someone you know is facing a barrier at work or in a hobby due to a disability, the Martin case is the gold standard for "reasonable accommodation." It proves that "tradition" isn't a valid excuse for exclusion.
- Focus on the "Essence": Martin’s win reminds us to look at the core of what we do. If you're a writer, the essence is the words, not the keyboard you use. If you're a golfer, it's the score, not the walk.
- Support Adaptive Sports: The legal battle Martin fought paved the way for the growth of the USGA’s U.S. Adaptive Open, which started in 2022. Check out these tournaments; the level of play is staggering.
- Follow the Ducks: Keep an eye on the University of Oregon golf program. Martin’s leadership remains one of the most resilient stories in college sports.
Casey Martin didn't "ruin" the game of golf. The sky didn't fall. The pros still walk, the fans still watch, and the game is exactly as hard as it ever was. He just made sure that the "physicality" of walking didn't become a wall that kept talent out.
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Actionable Insight: If you want to see the modern impact of Martin's fight, look up the USGA Adaptive Open results. You’ll see athletes with a range of disabilities competing at an elite level—many of whom cite Casey Martin as the reason they felt they had a right to be there in the first place.