There’s a timeless truth in geometry: the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Simple. Direct. Efficient. But in life—and in baseball—many people avoid taking that straight line. Why? Because the straight line often forces you to confront what you fear most: a “no.”
I’ve learned over and over again that the calling on your life will determine the path you need to take. If you want to get to your destination, you can’t afford to zigzag around it. You need to go directly to the source.
My Straight Line to the Chicago Cubs
I was introduced to baseball in 1984 at eight years old, watching games with my granddad at my grandparents’ house. He loved the Chicago Cubs, and I fell in love too—especially with my favorite player, Gary “Sarge” Matthews. Wrigley Field had ivy on the outfield wall. My grandparents had kudzu on their fence. I’d toss rocks into the air and swing at them, pretending that if I hit them over the kudzu, I was hitting them over the ivy at Wrigley.
That dream stayed with me.
In 1990, as a freshman at Westlake High School, I met my mentor, the late T.J. Wilson. He saw me play and began mentoring me. By the summer of 1991, at just 14 years old, I had my first workout with the Chicago Cubs at Georgia State University. Preston Douglas, the Cubs’ scout, liked me and built a relationship with me. I worked out with the Cubs every summer through my high school years and was drafted by them out of high school.
Even when academics forced me to transfer from Georgia State to DeKalb College, the Cubs came calling again. And eventually, I was drafted a second time by the Cubs—the team I had dreamed of since I was eight years old. That wasn’t coincidence. That was the shortest distance between two points: a dream, a mentor, a scout, and a “yes.”
T.J. Wilson removed barriers and built a bridge from hope to harvest. And I got to reap that harvest by playing professionally in the Chicago Cubs organization.
My Straight Line to Marriage
On September 7, 1996, I saw a woman driving on I-20. I didn’t know her. She didn’t know me. But I flirted, followed her off the exit, and got her number: 404-373-1001. My intentions were clear: I wanted her to be my wife.
We were married the following November 23, 1997.
That, too, was a straight line. Not careless, but intentional. I knew what I wanted, and I put myself in position to either get a “yes” or a “no.”
Parents, Players, and the Fear of “No”
Today, I watch parents and players navigate this game, and I see them avoid the straight line. A player dreams of playing at a certain college or for a certain Major League team. They put in the work, but instead of going directly to the people who can give them a “yes” or a “no,” they circle around.
- Major League scouts are out here—not only scouting but also offering training for a fee. Few parents seek them out.
- Colleges host camps throughout the year. They are direct access to the source. Yet many players don’t go.
Instead, families hope the source will come to them. They take detours, waiting for opportunity to knock instead of walking up to the door.
But let me be clear: the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.
Why People Avoid the Straight Line
Here are the top five reasons people don’t take the straight route:
- Fear of rejection – They’d rather not know than be told “no.”
- Lack of confidence – They don’t believe they’re good enough to ask.
- Distractions – They get caught up in noise that feels like progress but isn’t.
- Comfort in the crowd – They follow what everyone else is doing instead of daring to be direct.
- Misplaced hope – They think opportunity will find them without them taking the risk.
Why You Should Take the Straight Line
And here are the top five reasons why you should go directly to the source:
- Clarity – A “yes” or “no” helps you know exactly where you stand.
- Speed – You get answers faster, saving time and energy.
- Relationships – You connect with decision-makers who can advocate for you.
- Growth – Even rejection teaches you what to improve.
- Harvest – The straight line is the surest path from hope to fulfillment.
Whether in baseball, marriage, or life, the principle stands: the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Taking that straight line requires courage, clarity, and conviction. It requires going directly to the source, risking a “no,” but positioning yourself for the “yes” that can change your life.
I’ve lived this lesson—from kudzu fences to Wrigley dreams, from I-20 flirtations to marriage, from a boy with hope to a man reaping harvest. And I’ll say it again: don’t be afraid of the straight line. It’s the only way to get where you’re truly called to go.