Toughness defines Daniel Dickinson's unlikely journey from walk-on to MLB Draft pick

New York Times

08-07-2025

The intricate tattoo sleeve inscribed on the left arm of Daniel Dickinson took two years to complete. Woven throughout are distinct messages chosen specifically by LSU's star second baseman to serve as a reminder.
There are large roses that accompany the birthdates of his mom and grandmother. A depiction of a stairway to heaven with a wolf at the bottom of the steps explains the twists and turns of his life as an only child. Street signs represent the address of the house where he grew up in Richland, Wash., and there's a memory dedicated to one of his best friends in high school, who passed away in a car accident.
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One declaration, however, proved to be the most fitting at the start of the Tigers' postseason charge toward the national title: 'Time is currency you can only spend once.'
Dickinson's time at LSU was brief — he's very likely to hear his name called in the first three rounds of the upcoming MLB Draft — but the most prominent chapter of his baseball journey had one hell of an ending.
Facing a 2-2 count in his first at-bat of LSU's NCAA Regional opener against Little Rock on May 30, Dickinson was late on a fastball on the outside edge of the plate and flicked his bat at the ball to stay alive in the count. He connected. The ball went foul. He felt a shooting pain in his left arm.
The 21-year-old didn't know it at the time, but he had suffered an injury that typically keeps players out for a minimum of three to four weeks. The at-bat ended in a popout to the first baseman. Dickinson's next plate appearance in the second inning was so painful that he could barely swing. He still groans thinking about the weak tapper to the shortstop. He asked the LSU medical staff to wrap his hand and give him some medication to help combat the throbbing pain.
In the bottom of the fifth inning, Dickinson launched a home run to left field.
The next inning, he did it again.
X-rays after the win revealed the severity of the injury. The hamate bone in his left wrist had broken cleanly in two. Dickinson walked into the office of LSU coach Jay Johnson inside Alex Box Stadium and broke the news. He wanted to keep playing but understood if Johnson thought it was best for the team to keep him out of the lineup.
'I've had two other really good players (break their hamate bones) and they were out,' Johnson said. 'So when he told me, my heart sank for a second because, it's like, the two guys I'm talking about were really tough guys, really good players, and they just couldn't do it.'
Dickinson did. For the next month, as the Tigers went 10-1 in the postseason, No. 14 was in the lineup. Dickinson didn't swing away as freely as he usually does. He had only six hits in the 10 games following the injury — though two came in the national title-clinching 5-3 win over Coastal Carolina on June 22. One team, obviously unaware of the injury, intentionally walked him.
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'Every time I'd swing, I'd feel excruciating pain,' Dickinson said. 'The grip strength is gone. You can't squeeze anything. I couldn't even squeeze my glove.'
Amid the locker room euphoria following the national title, the pain vanished for a bit. He lightly gripped a celebratory cigar and posed with his teammates. There's a photo of a grinning Dickinson on the flight home cradling the trophy with his left hand, as 'Time is currency you can only spend once' can be seen exposed on his left bicep.
His final season stat line was a .315 average, which included 75 hits, 67 runs and 12 home runs. He drew 40 walks in 305 plate appearances and had a .982 fielding percentage, committing four errors.
'LSU baseball won a national championship largely because I got to write Danny Dickinson's name in the lineup for 68 straight games,' Johnson said.
Dickinson's road to LSU and a national championship started in the Tri-Cities area in southeastern Washington — not exactly known as a burgeoning hub of baseball talent. He learned how to count by watching sports on television with his mom, Sharee. They'd watch Mariners games or Seahawks games and call out jersey numbers. Eventually, she began quizzing him on addition by asking how many runs the Mariners scored on extra-base hits or homers.
While many of this year's draft-eligible players have their own unique and uplifting stories, it might be hard to top Dickinson's journey.
He was conceived by an anonymous insemination donor and was raised by Sharee, who got him involved in as many sports as possible, including teeball starting at the age of 3. When he was in elementary school, he was asked in a survey to predict his career.
'MLB player' was his answer.
Long before he broke his hand, gutted through the constant month-long pain and earned the ultimate payoff, he was a raw high school senior at Kennewick High School, part of the generation of players who didn't get enough in-person recruiting eyeballs due to the COVID-19 pandemic. In a fortuitous twist of fate, former Utah Valley University coach Eddie Smith was in attendance for the 3A state baseball playoff tournament in Pasco, Wash., scouring for talent.
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Dickinson led off the semifinal game and roped a double off his metal bat that Smith said woke him up from a long, tiring day. From that point on, Smith, now the head coach at Washington, was tantalized by Dickinson's potential. He had no scholarship money left and didn't have a guaranteed roster spot available for him. But he asked Dickinson to give UVU a shot. Dickinson was committed to Ottawa University, an NAIA school in Surprise, Ariz., but Smith's pitch to start at the Division I level — UVU plays in the WAC — was too good to pass up.
'There were many diamonds in the rough that got overlooked during that time,' Smith said, 'with Danny being one of them.'
Dickinson's next two years were a swift transition from unknown walk-on to everyday starter for the Wolverines. He was part of an overloaded roster due to the number of players with extra eligibility due to the pandemic. That first year, he was a teenager competing for a roster spot with players as old as 25.
That first fall semester in 2022 Dickinson was homesick. He missed Sharee. Missed his friends. Missed the comfort zone that allowed him to thrive at Kennewick. As the temperatures in Utah dropped and snow began to dust the mountains above the university, he utilized the batting cage with 24-hour access inside UCCU Ballpark. Solace came with the sound of the ping of his bat.
Still, Dickinson felt a piece missing. He'd look up in the empty stands during fall ball. There was no Sharee. Just knowing she was there allowed him to take the necessary deep breath to slow his heart rate down and lock in before every at-bat. It's easy to be vulnerable with your mom when she's your best friend, so he told her that he'd love to see her at some games in the spring. She did him one better.
Sharee retired from her job as director of services at the Hanford Site, the largest nuclear cleanup project in the world where she spent the past 15 years for the U.S. Department of Energy. In total, she had 30 years of federal service.
Daniel Dickinson's mom retired to watch him play baseball at LSU ❤️@michellachester sits down with Sharee to talk about how much of a blessing it's been to retire and attend every game to watch Daniel play for the Tigers. #MCWS x @LSUbaseball pic.twitter.com/3PNbf40CFF
— NCAA Baseball (@NCAABaseball) June 19, 2025
In the blink of an eye, Sharee found an Airbnb in Utah as a temporary home base. She bought a brand new 2022 white Toyota Tacoma. And she planted herself in the stands of every UVU game for the next two seasons. She drove to most of the road games in the WAC but flew to Texas-Rio Grande Valley in order to make it back for the ensuing midweek games.
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'She's my rock,' Daniel said. 'She's my everything.'
Sharee was there to see him blossom into an all-conference player. As a sophomore, he led UVU in batting (.367), hits (90), total bases (192) and stolen bases (32) and tied the program's single-season home run record with 18. In the summer of 2024, baseball hit overdrive. Dickinson played in the Cape Cod League for the Harwich Mariners and was soon invited to USA Baseball's collegiate training camp, which featured more than 50 of the best players in the country.
Competing against such higher-caliber players made him realize he wanted to pursue a national title. So he entered the transfer portal in late June, and within minutes, some of the top programs in the nation were calling, texting and emailing just to get a few minutes of Dickinson's time.
'It was honestly too many to count,' Sharee said. 'There were so many that he wouldn't have had time to respond to everyone.'
Dickinson narrowed his choices to LSU, Tennessee and Vanderbilt. His first on-campus visit was to LSU. And Johnson's pitch was so good that when he dropped the Dickinsons off at the airport, the decision was already made. Dickinson called both Vanderbilt and Tennessee to thank them for their interest but it was going to be the Tigers.
Sharee packed up the Tacoma and moved in January 2025 to Baton Rouge, where she found a furnished apartment for the next six months. Same as she's always done, she got to soak up her son's career from the stands of ballparks around the country. She put an estimated 18,000 miles on her truck since relocating.
'Best decision of my life,' Sharee said.
Now comes the hardest part. The waiting game.
Dickinson had surgery to remove the hamate bone on July 1. Once the two-week marker hits, he'll be able to return to baseball activity. And by about that time, he'll know where his professional career will begin.
Whether Sharee will pack up the Tacoma again to relocate once more for minor league baseball is up to her son.
'I always try to tell him: Everything is an adventure,' Sharee said.