Slide Into Every Damn Base

This one started over a Dunkie treat run with my bestie, my daughter.

We were talking about the importance of being adaptable—and how sometimes life will throw you into positions you didn’t plan for. That reminded me of a very specific moment in my softball days, one I hadn’t shared with her before.

So let’s rewind to 1990. My high school closed and merged into a huge regional district. Suddenly, the competition got real. As an athlete, I was used to being one of the top dogs. But with this merger, the playing field got bigger… and so did the talent pool.

I was a center fielder. Always had been. But now I was fighting for that position with another player who was basically locked in.

Not only did I lose my position to this chick but to add insult to injury she took my favorite jersey number too.

Competition + Leo? Say less.

One day during practice, my coach threw me a curveball: “I’m putting you at first base. You’re left-handed—it just makes sense.”

At first, I was pissed off.

I had never played first base in my life. But I went out there, channeled my inner Keith Hernandez, and gave it a shot. After practice, Coach K pulled me aside and said, “I’ve never seen anyone scoop ground balls like you. You’ll get more play time if you play first.”

And just like that, my path shifted.

Now here’s where it gets interesting (and kind of hilarious).

I refused to slide into bases. I don’t know why, but it was a mental block. I’d stop short or overthink it, and eventually, it started costing us plays.

Finally, my coach had enough.

He looked at me and said, “Hickman, if you don’t start sliding into bases, I’m going to bench you.”

Oof. My Leo pride kicked in HARD.

Bench me? Watch this.

The next time I got on base, I slid into every. damn. one. Just to prove a point. But the funny thing is… that moment flipped a switch.

I went on to break records as a first baseman, made all-state and county teams, and even got the “Most Coachable” award—twice.

That shift—from resistance to openness—is what got me there.

I even went on to play for Penn State (as a center fielder again, ironically).

What stuck with me wasn’t the accolades, though. It was the reminder that:

You can be great at something…But to be legendary? You have to be coachable.

» You have to pivot.

» You have to get dirty.

» And you have to slide into bases that may have been scared to at first.

Adaptability isn’t about giving up who you are. It’s about showing up fully—even when the game changes.

» Even when the ego says no.

» Even when you feel like you’re being benched.

» And yes…even when you have to wear your second favorite number on your jersey (#10 for Dave Magadan). IYKYK.

So yeah, slide into every damn base.

Prove them wrong.

Prove yourself right.

And remember—growth doesn’t always feel clean, but damn, is it worth it.

Because sometimes growth means getting a little dirty.