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- Nov 4, 2003
With two armed guards by his side, Byron Mullens walks with several friends toward the inner perimeter fence, the two feet of barbed wire curls running along the top glistening in the sunlight.
They have already handed over their cell phones and keys, gone through a metal detector, signed in the log book and walked through a series of locked doors that won't open until the previous one is shut. Now Mullens and crew must go through another round of security, pausing as they get to the gate and holding up a badge.
"Mullens, zero-one-zero," he says, as another guard behind a thick-plate glass window takes a photo and notes his entry.
The 22-year-old Oklahoma City Thunder center walks a long, paved footpath toward the gym. That's when the comments begin.
"Hey, hey Byron!" one man calls out.
"Byron, what's up, man?" someone else yells.
"What's up, boy? You doing all right? You gonna come over here?" Mullens asks, motioning toward the gym.
Mullens spends most of his court time at Ross on the perimeter to work on his outside game.
"He's so tall, I bet he could dunk just by standing," says an elderly man, wearing his all-blues and walking with a cane. He grins; two of his front teeth are missing.
"Da-na-na! Da-na-na!" yells another, calling out the "SportsCenter" theme song. Mullens laughs and shakes his head.
The group walks through two more sets of fences and past several guardhouses before Mullens stands at the entrance to the gym.
His pickup game is about to begin. In prison.
Mullens was born in Canal Winchester, Ohio, and grew up playing basketball around Columbus. He lived off and on with his mother and five siblings until high school before moving into his own apartment, paying his expenses by working after school and on weekends as a plumber. During his junior and senior years of high school, Mullens lived with the family of one of his best friends. In his first year there, he and the friend visited a juvenile detention center to teach basketball clinics and talk to troubled teens about making better choices -- and also to play pickup games.
There wasn't any particular reason they played there instead of a nearby gym or court, Mullens said. He just "wanted to go and play basketball" and liked the "under-the-radar" level of competition.
After the Thunder's playoff run ended last May, Mullens began offseason workouts with a trainer and played pickup games at Ohio State University, where he played for one season before going pro in 2009. But after talking this spring with friend Jeff Lisath, the assistant warden at Ross Correctional Institution in Chillicothe, Ohio, Mullens decided to play inside prison walls once again.
"I played ball at some places for juvenile kids when I was in high school and I kinda wanted to get back into it," Mullens said.
By mid-July, he played in his first pickup game at Ross, which houses mostly level 2 and 3 prisoners -- medium and "close" security, respectively. (The scale ranges from 1 to 5, with 1 representing "minimum security" and 5 symbolizing "administrative maximum.")
"They play some really good basketball up here," Mullens said.
“
It gives you something to look forward to. A lot of these guys aren't going home, so when they get the opportunity to play someone of that skill set, it makes their day.
They have already handed over their cell phones and keys, gone through a metal detector, signed in the log book and walked through a series of locked doors that won't open until the previous one is shut. Now Mullens and crew must go through another round of security, pausing as they get to the gate and holding up a badge.
"Mullens, zero-one-zero," he says, as another guard behind a thick-plate glass window takes a photo and notes his entry.
The 22-year-old Oklahoma City Thunder center walks a long, paved footpath toward the gym. That's when the comments begin.
"Hey, hey Byron!" one man calls out.
"Byron, what's up, man?" someone else yells.
"What's up, boy? You doing all right? You gonna come over here?" Mullens asks, motioning toward the gym.
Mullens spends most of his court time at Ross on the perimeter to work on his outside game.
"He's so tall, I bet he could dunk just by standing," says an elderly man, wearing his all-blues and walking with a cane. He grins; two of his front teeth are missing.
"Da-na-na! Da-na-na!" yells another, calling out the "SportsCenter" theme song. Mullens laughs and shakes his head.
The group walks through two more sets of fences and past several guardhouses before Mullens stands at the entrance to the gym.
His pickup game is about to begin. In prison.
Mullens was born in Canal Winchester, Ohio, and grew up playing basketball around Columbus. He lived off and on with his mother and five siblings until high school before moving into his own apartment, paying his expenses by working after school and on weekends as a plumber. During his junior and senior years of high school, Mullens lived with the family of one of his best friends. In his first year there, he and the friend visited a juvenile detention center to teach basketball clinics and talk to troubled teens about making better choices -- and also to play pickup games.
There wasn't any particular reason they played there instead of a nearby gym or court, Mullens said. He just "wanted to go and play basketball" and liked the "under-the-radar" level of competition.
After the Thunder's playoff run ended last May, Mullens began offseason workouts with a trainer and played pickup games at Ohio State University, where he played for one season before going pro in 2009. But after talking this spring with friend Jeff Lisath, the assistant warden at Ross Correctional Institution in Chillicothe, Ohio, Mullens decided to play inside prison walls once again.
"I played ball at some places for juvenile kids when I was in high school and I kinda wanted to get back into it," Mullens said.
By mid-July, he played in his first pickup game at Ross, which houses mostly level 2 and 3 prisoners -- medium and "close" security, respectively. (The scale ranges from 1 to 5, with 1 representing "minimum security" and 5 symbolizing "administrative maximum.")
"They play some really good basketball up here," Mullens said.
“
It gives you something to look forward to. A lot of these guys aren't going home, so when they get the opportunity to play someone of that skill set, it makes their day.
