Nick Sheffield: Inmate to Teammate

[The following is an article written and published by the author on Feb. 4, 2009 for the Glendale Community College newspaper, The Voice.]

If Nick Sheffield seems rough and bruising on the court, it’s only because his life has been that way off of it.

The second-year forward stands at a chiseled and tattooed 6'6". Combined with his build, his intense glare makes you wonder if a beatdown is forthcoming.

Which might have been the case a few years ago.

The beginnings to Sheffield’s troubles can be traced back to his youth. Born in Phoenix to parents with drug-related problems, he was raised mostly by his grandmother. While his mother and father drifted in and out of his life, Sheffield’s grandmother was the one constant he could count on.

“She’s sent from above,” Sheffield says. “I seriously believe that. She saved my life.”

When his grandmother wasn’t around, basketball was. Sheffield’s talent was obvious, attracting admirers both on and off the court. It was the latter who helped steer him toward a more dangerous game.

“I started hanging out around the wrong people, trying to look for something else in life other than basketball,” he said.

Losing Control

During a basketball tournament in Tucson, Sheffield, then 18, was cut from the team after he was caught using marijuana. 

“When I got kicked off the basketball team, I felt like my life was over," he said. "I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know what my meaning was. Basketball, at the time, was the only thing I was good at. It was the only thing I knew.”

Being forced to leave the court only sped up the downward spiral in life away from it. Sheffield clung more closely than ever to his group of “friends.” Shortly thereafter, he was arrested when police found marijuana in his vehicle after initially stopping him for road rage.

That rage, without basketball for an outlet, became the foundation for future run-ins with the law. He took to always having a weapon on his person. Sheffield often got involved in fights at parties, made more dangerous with the presence of alcohol. 

One such party on Feb. 2, 2003 produced what Sheffield calls a “life-changing event.”  A fight broke out, and in the melee Sheffield was hit over the head with a bottle.  Despite the wound that would require 14 staples, Sheffield ran to his car to retrieve his pistol to defend not only himself, but also his girlfriend and daughter, who were at the party.

The party-goers fled the scene upon learning the police had been called. As Sheffield trailed after his girlfriend and daughter, someone threw another bottle at him. Sheffield turned around and opened fire, shooting the assailant in the arm.

The incident landed him in a maximum security prison for 49 months.

Paying the Price

During that time, his girlfriend took his daughter and left him, deserting him just as his parents had so many years before. He described himself as “mentally drained,” spending nights weeping, consumed by his losses.

Prison life was an introduction to an entirely different way of life. “When you first get down there,” he explains, “you’re just a fish. You’re gonna get heart-checked. They want to see if you have heart.”

What exactly is a “heart check” in prison? It’s accepting the fact that you’re a “soldier” under a “head” who gives orders. It’s being assigned “missions” to physically beat up fellow inmates on those orders. It’s knowing that completing the mission earns you “respect,” while failing to do so might mean someone else getting a “mission” with you as the target.

Sheffield did his missions at first, if only for his personal safety. Once earned, his respect allowed him to explore influences he’d previously shut out. Sheffield describes the moment he made the decision to rehabilitate himself.

“One night I was just lying there, and I said to myself, ‘I want to change.  I need to change,’” he said.

He started reading the Bible and attending church services. He stopped going on missions. The “heads” left him alone. Sheffield had earned their trust, and they respected his desire to go back to school and play college basketball. On March 23, 2007, Sheffield was released. 

Another Chance

Sheffield married his childhood friend Nicole the same day he was released. Where Sheffield’s previous girlfriend had left him, Nicole visited him three times a week while in prison, giving a consistent source of love and caring almost foreign to the man who had been abandoned by almost everyone else in his life.

The very next day, Sheffield asked Nicole to help him find information on schools where he could resume his studies as well as his basketball career.  Having been imprisoned for so long and not having graduated from high school, his knowledge of computer and Internet use was minimal.

Sheffield recognized GCC head coach Dave Hodges from his high school playing days (Hodges was the Deer Valley High School coach at the time), and promptly called him in hopes of reviving his basketball career.

The passage of time had not dimmed Hodges’ memory of the former North Canyon standout. “I remembered Nick,” Hodges admitted wryly,  “because the first play of the game, he got a dunk on us on a backdoor alley-oop.”

Hodges also remembered in what era Sheffield played high school basketball, and recognized he was a lot older than the typical freshman.

“What have you been doing with yourself?”

“I've been away,” Sheffield replied shortly.

“What do you mean ‘away’? Like, the military, or what?”

“I’ve been in prison,” Sheffield said.

Was it more than coincidence that Hodges not only remembered Sheffield from his playing days, but also happened to serve as a counselor for those dealing with life after prison? Coach and player agreed to meet in person to gauge their options.  Despite the red tape the unique situation required, Hodges decided to make Sheffield’s basketball revival a reality.

Making It Count

Hodges’ biggest concern for Sheffield wasn’t his emotional re-acclimation with the real world; it was his re-introduction to the classroom.  He currently maintains a 2.5 GPA.

At Glendale, basketball became more than a game; it was physical, sweaty, grind-it-out rehabilitation. “It’s like therapy, almost,” he said. “Every time I get a rebound, I feel like I’ve talked to a therapist.”

Rebounding was Sheffield’s specialty as the Gauchos’ first big man off the bench.  As his time away from prison increased, so did his basketball IQ.

“I’ve gotten a lot smarter. I’m a little bit older, so I know the game a little better.  I use my thinking more than my athletic ability,” he said.

His age (Sheffield is now 27) was the butt of jokes in practice from teammates.  Sheffield is grateful, though, for the acceptance and camaraderie that was so readily offered: “They knew I was here to work, that I was here to win.  And that’s what we did.”

This season, Sheffield is a team captain, as well as their main low-post offensive threat. Where fellow captain Lance Fite is a quiet leader, Sheffield brings a louder call-to-action both vocally and by example.

Coach Hodges summed up his take on Sheffield with this account: “Last year on Thanksgiving, Sheff sent me a text message thanking me for the opportunity to play, and, in return, I’m grateful to him.  He’s a good role model in that he’s shown that you can take control of your life and go after your dreams.”

An ex-felon turned role model?  Nothing could show the concept more realistic than the high school seminars the former inmate has given since his release to make students see the dangers that threaten the life of any adolescent.

Sheffield’s own words to those who grapple with the same pitfalls he once did might validate Hodges’ praise: “Listen to your parents. Choose your friends carefully.  Whenever you are in a situation, and it’s a life-changing situation, that’s when you find out who your friends are. You really find out who loves you.”

His plans now include his life’s real mission, one that aims for personal goals rather than physical targets.

“My dream as a kid was to play college ball; to get that scholarship, maybe go play pro. Maybe the whole dream’s not going to come true, but I’m still here,” he said.

It’s a dream that he once turned over in the game of life.  Now Sheffield has rebounded that dream and is making good on the putback.