Casey Ratzlaff

Already the nation’s top-ranked men’s open division wheelchair tennis player, CASEY RATZLAFF could someday be world No. 1. But his top priority is to inspire others.

Twenty times forward and 10 times backward, Casey Ratzlaff rolls up a steep hill at Fairmount Park in Wichita, Kansas. And just to make this training routine a bit more of a challenge, he has a 12-pound weight resting at the bottom of his wheelchair.

Still, it’s no contest. Ratzlaff, 20, climbs the hill repeatedly, just as he has in overcoming hurdles much bigger throughout his entire life.

Born with spina bifida, a condition that affects his lower limbs, Ratzlaff tried wheelchair tennis for the first time at age 12 and has since risen to No. 1 in the United States and, when 2019 began, Top 30 in the world.

Ratzlaff, studying sports management in the Class of 2021 at Wichita State University, knows that getting to No. 1 in the world won’t be easy. No American has reached the pinnacle in the men’s open wheelchair tennis division since Stephen Welch exactly 20 years ago. But that’s why Ratzlaff trains seven days a week for as many as four hours per day with Wichita State assistant men’s tennis coach Justin DeSanto.

DeSanto had never worked with a wheelchair athlete before he was introduced to Ratzlaff in 2017. DeSanto has made the coaching adjustment, mostly by going with what he knows: hard work, including weightlifting.

“I don’t know why Casey doesn’t hate me,” DeSanto jokes.

All of that strength and conditioning is required; wheelchair tennis is a tough, grueling sport. After every shot, Ratzlaff turns his back to the net, races toward the fence and peeks over his shoulder to see if the return is coming to his forehand or backhand. Then, he has to whip his wheelchair in the appropriate direction and race to the ball.

There is no denying Ratzlaff’s dedication to his sport. He gave up walking, at least on crutches, so that he could improve his skill in a wheelchair.

“He has lost leg muscle not being on his feet,” DeSanto says. “But he has gained a ton of upper body muscle from being in the chair.”

Ratzlaff, who comes from an athletic family, is the third of four children of Craig and Tammy Ratzlaff. In the mid- ’80s, Craig and Tammy were athletes at Tabor College, an NAIA school in Hillsboro, Kansas. Craig was a tight end on the football team, and Tammy played outside hitter in volleyball.

Casey fit right in with a sports-loving family. He loved football—still does, to this day—especially the Kansas City Chiefs.

“Casey was athletic-minded even as a young guy,” Craig says. “He could throw a ball. He could catch. He would be on his knees with a baseball bat, and I would pitch to him.

“He was five years old when he said, ‘Dad, when are my legs going to heal so I can play football?’ I remember leaving the room and breaking down. How do you answer that? But we are a family of faith. We were at ease that God had a plan, and He sure did.”

It was a hot, summer day in 2010— temperatures had hit 104 degrees—when three-time Paralympic gold medalist and tennis champ Nick Taylor held a wheelchair sports event at Maize South High School in Wichita. Taylor and his group, which was then called Wheelchair Sports Inc., but is now Wichita Adaptive Sports, were looking for potential athletes. But only one new athlete showed up: Casey Ratzlaff, accompanied by Tammy, who had seen a flyer for the event tucked in her son’s backpack at school.

Ratzlaff had previously tried wheelchair basketball, sled hockey, snow skiing and other sports, but had yet to find his niche. The hunger, though, was still there.

“Sports was something I wanted to be a part of, something I dreamed of,” Ratzlaff says. “It seemed like a fun thing.”

At the 2010 event, Ratzlaff, who was 12 years old at the time, tried hand cycling, but that didn’t feel like his sport, either. He and his mom were ready to get back in their truck and head to the lake at Marion Reservoir, where the rest of their family were keen on cooling off. But just before that happened, fate intervened. Taylor spotted Ratzlaff and asked him to try wheelchair tennis.

“I was in a bad mood that day because almost nobody showed up, and it was hot as hell,” Taylor recounts. “But Casey, who had walked in on crutches, got in a chair and started pushing it, and I said, ‘Wow.’ This was some serious skill for someone who had only been in a chair for three minutes.”

Taylor’s sour mood immediately flipped. He had “discovered” a young athlete with good hand-eye coordination, athletic genes and the wingspan of someone 6-foot-5. Better yet, Taylor had found a willing student.

“I loved tennis as soon as I hit the first ball over the net,” Ratzlaff says. “You knew the ball was coming back, and you had to be ready. It was a rush. Tennis gives me a feeling of power to be able to control the ball and the freedom to hit it where I want on the court. I was hooked.”

Ratzlaff’s life changed that day, but Taylor was impacted, too. He was immediately convinced that Ratzlaff was ticketed for greatness.

Taylor then did something remarkable, gifting the wheelchair to Ratzlaff, doing away with the normal protocol and paperwork.

Ratzlaff, meanwhile, couldn’t wait to get back on the court and was thrilled when Taylor showed up at his house multiple times to coach him. Taylor then introduced him to another coach, Jeff Clark.

Two years later, Taylor got a call from the USTA, inquiring about Ratzlaff. That led to Ratzlaff making the USA Junior National Team, just as Taylor predicted. Ratzlaff’s first trip was to the World Team Cup in Turkey.

Jason Harnett, USTA National Manager, Wheelchair Tennis, was immediately impressed when he first saw Ratzlaff’s talent. But Ratzlaff wasn’t quite ready to be a champion mentally—not at age 14 or 15.

“He was always leaving his phone around, for example,” Harnett says. “Here we had this big, strong kid who can push, but he’s scattered in the way he thinks. We thought he was going to mature up, and he has.”

In addition to maturing, Ratzlaff also made a major equipment change recently, switching from 26-inch wheels on his chair to 27-inch. The 27s are the biggest on the tour, and while it may not seem like much, it’s actually a major adjustment. It’s a tougher push, but once the chair gets moving, it covers a lot more ground.

“Only the biggest and strongest athletes with a lot of function can use that chair,” Harnett said. “And because you are sitting up an inch taller, it tends to make your groundstrokes bigger and more powerful.

“The transition from 26 to 27 was a struggle at first, but Casey is pretty close to being dialed in. By summer, that chair will be perfect for him.”

Whether he can use his new chair to ride all the way up to No. 1 in the world is another question. Harnett says it will be a “massive challenge,” and Ratzlaff refers to it as “tackling a mountain.”

But Ratzlaff, who is the master of the climb—literally and figuratively—says that reaching No. 1 is not his most important objective.

Miami-based writer Walter Villa has covered Davis Cup ties in North and South America, and is a frequent contributor to ESPN.com, The New York Times, The Miami Herald and Baseball America, among others.