Farewell to Nolan Hickman. Gonzaga’s elder statesman signs off

Steady and Selfless, Hickman Gave Everything to Gonzaga—And Then Some

For four seasons, Nolan Hickman showed up — not just for the highlights, but for all of it. The scrutiny. The pressure. The expectations. No Zag since Josh Perkins has taken more heat than number 11. A very small percentage of it was fair. A vast majority of it wasn’t. But he never made excuses. He never looked for a way out.

He could have left after his sophomore year amid concerns about his fit, maturity, and readiness for the job at hand, particularly following a lackluster NCAA tournament performance. He could have transferred or balked when Gonzaga brought in another point guard and moved him to a different role in the offense. He could have chased a fresh start like so many others in the transfer portal era. Instead, he stayed. He stayed, and he kept getting better. And in doing so, he became something rare — a four-year Zag, a three-year starter, and the guy who spent more time on the court for the Zags over the last three seasons than anyone else.

He played through pressure, through criticisms, and through noise. He stayed grounded. He kept showing up. Nolan will go down as one of the most unflappable and straightfaced Zags in program history.

By the end of it all, he had become something bigger than a stat line: the backbone of the program. The kind of player every great team needs — reliable, tough, and all-in.

The fact is, for every ugly loss that’s been blamed on Nolan Hickman, there are about 7 gutsy wins he pulled out on his own.

Nolan left it all out there for th Zags, for his entire career in Spokane. We were lucky to have him and lucky to have gotten a ticket to watch him grow, develop, improve, and do it all with humor and heart.

Freshman Year: The Start of Something Real

Hickman arrived in Spokane as one of the most highly regarded guards in his class. A late flip from Kentucky to Gonzaga, he joined a loaded roster full of veterans and future pros. He wasn’t asked to be a star — he was asked to learn the ropes. And he did.

He played steady minutes throughout the year, gaining valuable experience on one of the best teams in the country. He didn’t run the offense — not yet — but he soaked up every moment on the floor. He defended. He moved the ball. He knocked down shots when they came his way. And he didn’t turn the ball over. There were signs, even then, of what he would become: calm under pressure, composed with the ball, elite around the rim, always in control of his pace.

For most players, that kind of freshman season gets overshadowed. But for Hickman, it was where the foundation was built. He played his role to the best of his ability, earned trust, and set himself up for what came next.

Sophomore Year: Stepping Into the Spotlight

In his second season, Nolan Hickman stepped into a much bigger role. With Andrew Nembhard off to the NBA, Hickman was handed the reins to Gonzaga’s offense — probably the most demanding point guard job in college basketball. Running point in an offense as fast paced and lethally efficient as Gonzaga’s requires vision and quick thinking. How many sophomores are given that responsibility anywhere in college basketball today? It was a huge leap, and like most young guards, he took some lumps and absorbed a lot of vitriol from fairweather fans and journalists.

But he grew and matured, steadily, game by game. The reads came faster. The decision-making and ball movement became more and more automatic. There were growing pains — tough shooting nights, missed windows, stretches where the offense stalled. But he stayed in it. Hickman averaged 28 minutes per game as a sophomore, 7.7 points, and 3.1 assists. He shot 35.4% from three and made noticeable strides as a vocal floor leader, even as he continued to adjust to the role.

By year’s end, he was more decisive with the ball, more confident in his shot, and more comfortable in his voice. He didn’t shy away from the challenge. He embraced it. He embraced the fans and the fans embraced him. And more importantly, the coaching staff never stopped trusting him. He played big minutes, guarded tough matchups, and carriedthe massive responsibility that comes with being Gonzaga’s point guard.

It wasn’t a breakout season. It was something harder: a year of real, sometimes difficult growth.

Junior Year: Growth in Full View

By his junior season, Nolan Hickman looked like a different player. The Zags brought in Ryan Nembhard to run the point, which allowed Hickman to shift off the ball — and the move unlocked him. No longer tasked with orchestrating the offense possession after possession, Hickman was able to find rhythm as a scorer, a cutter, and a second-side creator. And he ran with it. He went from being one of the most promising young point guards in the NCAA to a catch-and-shoot specialist with the floor spacing and vision of a point guard.

He played a career-high 35.3 minutes per game — leading the nation in minutes per game as a backcourt duo alongside Ryan Nembhard— and averaged 14 points per game on 47% shooting from the field and 41.3% from three. He attacked closeouts with confidence, spaced the floor with deadly consistency, and showed a sneaky ability to finish at the rim against length. His footwork was tighter. His reads were sharper. His game had fully matured.

But it wasn’t just the numbers. It was how seamlessly he fit alongside Nembhard — how the two guards played off each other, shared responsibilities, and gave Gonzaga a backcourt with skill, toughness, and total trust. Hickman didn’t need to dominate the ball to control the game. He just needed the right role — and in his junior year, he found it.

Senior Year: All In, All the Way

By the time this season rolled around, Nolan Hickman was an anchor — the voice in the huddle, the first guy on the floor, and the player Gonzaga could rely on night after night. He hyped up the Kennel Club and showed up for his teammates. The former wallflower who occasionally looked in over his head was now playing like one of the elite guards in the nation. There was no mystery about what he brought. He was locked in and battle-tested.

Once again, he logged heavy minutes — one of the team’s most-used players for the third straight year — and played with a calm, confident tempo that helped steady a young, evolving roster going through some significant growing pains. He averaged 10.9 points per game on 47.8% shooting from the field, 44.5% from three, and 93% from the free-throw line. the scoring numbers dipped; but every part of his game had sharpened.

He posted a season-high 24 points in a battle against Santa Clara. He dished 7 assists and added 18 points in a road win at Pepperdine. He dropped 18 on 5-of-6 from deep in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. And through it all, he remained the same steady force Gonzaga had come to depend on — composed, trusted, and fully in control of what he could offer.

Hickman finished his career as a four-year contributor, a three-year starter, and a player who carried the torch through one of the most transformative stretches in program history. He didn’t just endure it — he led through it.

The teams who figured it out early often came out on top. The key to putting Gonzaga was is not to contain its elite point guard or its dominant frontcourt, it was to contain Nolan Hickman.

Legacy & Farewell: The One Who Stayed

It’s easy to forget how rare Nolan Hickman’s career really was. In the era of transfer cycles, coaching churn, and NIL-fueled movement, he stayed. For four full seasons, he wore the same jersey. He grew inside the same system. And he gave Gonzaga everything he had.

He didn’t have to be the loudest guy on the team. He didn’t have to chase a headline. He just kept showing up — and by the end, there was no question what he meant to the program. He started for three years. He played more minutes than any other Zag in that span. And through every roster change, every moment of doubt or adversity, he showed up and gave it everything.

That kind of presence doesn’t always get the attention it deserves. But fans know. They saw the grit. They saw the growth. They saw the guy who never missed a game and who caught more than his fair share of the blame for some tough losses.

When people look back on this era of Gonzaga basketball — through all the wins, the comebacks, the questions, and the rebuilds — they’ll remember the guy with the heavy-lidded stare, the steady handle, the clean jumper, and the calm demeanor that you suspect concealed far more than it revealed. They’ll remember Nolan Hickman.

He wasn’t just part of the team. He was its heart.

“Thank you” hardly seems sufficient.