9 Hours of Lock-Up....

I was fortunate enough to be asked to go play softball and basketball on August 25th with a good group of guys against some pretty stiff competition. This isn't unusual, as I get asked to play a weekend tournament quite a bit during the summer, but this was unique due to the setting for the games and the opponents. I played those games at Prairie Correctional Facility in Appleton, MN against 50 or 60 different inmates.

Steve Healy, most of Rez Life softballers know him as Wooddale's pitcher, asked me to join his Sports Ministry cast and travel around to some area prisons and spend a day with the inmates by playing softball, basketball, volleyball and even horseshoes. I didn't initially jump at the opportunity as it would be another full Saturday on the road away from my family, but God arranged this one quite nicely. Appleton is just 15 minutes or so from Jennifer's parents' home in Dawson so we made a weekend of it. She would spend Saturday splashing in the pool with Luke and our five nieces and nephews who live nearby, eating grilled foods and freshly cut fruits while I would go through metal detectors and eat with a plastic spork. Good times for everyone.

I arrived at the prison at 7:45 AM on Saturday and the rest of team arrived shortly thereafter. There were 16 total - the maximum allowed to visit I was told. We shuffled through the first couple of electric, razor-wire-topped fences and soon found ourselves in the admittance room, so to speak. We had to sign in, give our driver's license in exchange for guest badges - which are quite valuable inside the prison walls. When we were playing our games, we had to give a correctional officer our guest badges which were then locked in a lock-box and carried around by an officer until our games were over at which point we scrambled to make sure we had our badge before venturing out into the halls again.

Once inside the prison we were escorted to the gymnasium, a non-air conditioned cement floor with room for two volleyball courts and one full-sized basketball court. The bathroom consisted of two urinals against a wall and toilet in the center of another wall. No private rooms here so get comfortable quickly.

As we entered the gymnasium a handful of inmates immediately came over to greet us, shaking our hands, thanking us for coming. I'd say that four or five inmates remembered the names of a handful of my teammates from previous visits. The volleyball players were then allowed to review their pants and put shorts on for their game. We were not allowed to wear shorts anywhere in the prison except while we played basketball or volleyball in that gym.

The softball and I headed out to the 'field' for a couple of morning games with the prison champion team. One thing that stuck out in my mind immediately was the unbelievably large number of hugely built inmates. It looked like a professional football team's training camp outside. A group of guys doing pullups like gravity was working for them, another group ripping off sets of 50 pushups and a whole herd of folks running around and around and around. Now, I'm put together well-enough to handle myself but all of the sudden I was very aware that I was 5' 8" inches tall and 170 pounds.

The field had a dirt infield which a lot of prisons don't have I was told, so that was nice. It was very soft and sandy which usually is good for the first few innings, keeps the balls from spiking up in the infield. However, it generally doesn't last very long and big pot-holes can form which is where grounders become potential emergency room visits. Left field was an added attraction as a 75-foot long and 10-foot wide sloped drainage ditch cut all the way to deep center. The left-fielder had a choice to make: play in front of said ditch and risk trying to run backwards, downhill then uphill, to make a catch going back or play in the back of the ditch and risk running forward, downhill then uphill, and trying to keep your eyes on the ball coming in front of you. Talk about your home-field advantage. Thankfully, I played shortstop.

The right-field fence was the prison, about 425 feet from plate down the line and out to probably 550 feet in right-center. The left-field wall was another razor-wire topped electric chain-link fence and at about dead left-field, if you got over the fence, you were home free. The left-field foul poul was a prison guard tower that hovered about 35 feet off the ground and was manned by a correctionial facility officer with a shotgun. Just below that guard tower was a rotating surveillance camera that was encased in plastic to protect it from the weather. The fence down the line was roughly 320 - 325 feet and it went out deeper and deeper until it kind of hid behind the prison in right-center. There was four feet of grass in front of the fence and then a three-foot wide walking/running path that served as our warning track. Inmates are not allowed to step on the four-foot wide patch of grass between the track and the fence. If a ball goes there, it is a groundrule double and a guard will retrieve it. You don't want to try and get the ball if it's pinned against the high voltage fence.

The inmates were very excited to play and they could all swing the bat. I did find out quickly what 'prison rules' are as we were somehow shorted two runs in the fifth and sixth innings. After pleading our case - carefully - with the two inmate umpires, we agreed that we maybe didn't score those runs after all. Our team had a very good lineup and I batted fifth and played short. We were able to use nice balls and one kind of decent bat so it was a decent-scoring game. We held on to win in extra innings, 16-15, even with the scoring controversy. The highlight of the game for me and the inmates it seemed was my third at bat. Because of the dimensions of the field, no one hits a homerun over the fence. If you want a homerun, you have to hit it to right-center or right to avoid the automatic ground-rule double track and the electric fence. We had one gentleman on our team that blasted one to deep right that ended up scoring him a homerun. In my third at bat, I decided to let my hands go a bit because I kind of just hit nice easy shots to the right side my first two times up. This time I had the perfect pull pitch, I extended and put a good move on the ball. As soon as I hit it, I knew it was either foul, on or near the warning track (gives that phrase a whole new meaning in a prison, huh?), or off the electric fence. All of those scenarios meant I didn't have to run because my fate would be decided by where the ball landed. The ball kept carrying and I was thinking that it had a chance to hit chain-link. The guard in the tower - in direct line of the ball - started to watch it and his head followed it until it dropped just below his tower with a bang, literally. It smashed the rotating security camera and exploded the plastic casing that surrounded it while giving the actual camera a pretty violent shake. Needless to say I stood there stunned, wondering if I was going to be released that afternoon or if I had just bought myself an added bonus stay. In the two seconds of silence that followed, I quickly checked my possible exit locations and realized that these places are designed for quick exits. After the two seconds were up, the inmates let out an uproariously loud cheer and basically attacked me and patted me over and over on the back and annointed me their all-time favorite player. As I trotted around the bases I couldn't help but crack a smile as I don't recall getting a standing ovation from the opposition while everyone on my own team is a bit white-faced in anticipation of the guards' reaction.

Because of the extra inning in game one, we were only able to get in four innings of game two before this group of inmates had to return to its cell block, called a POD at this institution. We won that second one by six runs and I batted left-handed my last two times up and was heckled because I didn't hit the prison and break a window, even though a window shot would've been roughly 430 feet long and 20 feet up. Price of glory, I suppose. :)

After the inmates were escorted inside, we followed and were able to get our spikes off and our shoes back on. We had 30 minutes to kill in the gym by ourselves before heading to the library where 43 inmates were allowed to come have lunch with us. Usually the inmates grab a lunch tray and then head back to their respective POD for lunch. Eating in the library was a treat.

Steve instructed us to mingle amongst the inmates at lunch and just chat them up. I walked in to the lunch room and saw 43 eyes look up and couldn't quite remember why we had to mingle. Thankfully, the third baseman and shortstop from the prison softball team were in one corner and waved me over to their open spot. I was very thankful for that gesture. At my table were five inmates and two visiting players like myself. Lunch was a special one that day we were informed as grape-colored (notice I didn't say grape-flavored) kool-aid was served with a rubber, breaded cirlce of chicken, a square of mixed vegetables, orange jello, two pieces of plain bread, pepper-ladened spaghetti and an ice cream scoop of butter, which goes on everything I learned. I couldn't get much of the lunch down and suddenly appreciated my wife's cooking on a whole new level. The inmates were kind to me and told me they knew the food was brutal and didn't expect me to eat it. The conversation was good, all of the inmates got around to admitting guilt for their crimes and eagerly talking about what they were going to do upon release. One man had been in and out of prison since 1980 and unfortunately was very clearly disturbed and demon-controlled. Another man had cut a deal to get four years off his sentence that included 6 months of house arrest, 18 months of work-release and 6 months of boot camp. He was very excited to lose those four years.

My favorite new acquaintance was their shortstop. He sat on my left and as we talked I had to stop myself from shaking my head over and over. He was a very good ballplayer and was 27, the same age as me. He'd been in county jail for three years, then St. Cloud for one and was coming up on three and a half years at Appleton. That means he'd been in jail since he was 19. he told me he played high school ball and after graduation, he played town-team ball for a summer until he got drunk, and did something stupid with a couple buddies. He was convicted of attempted murder, felony possession of a firearm, and armed robbery. 19 years old. He could've been me or anyone of a 100 guys I played ball with in high school and college. I kept thinking that if we were in a different place right now, I might be hanging with one of my softball buddies and just shooting the breeze. After some time of chatting, he asked me the hard question, "Does God forgive all sins?" I said that He does as long as the sinner repents fully and truly from the heart and doesn't love their sin. A sinner who sins and says I'm sorry but still knows in the back of their mind that they are going to do that sin again, is not repentful and will not be forgiven. He asked, "What about child molestors?" I said that God's arm is not too short to reach anyone and if child molestors and rapists really repent and get on their knees before God then He will forgive them and wash them clean as snow. But, I told him that I don't know about someone else's repentfulness or salvation. I only know that I've been forgiven and that because Jesus died for my sins, He's given us the pathway to forgiveness and salvation, if I repent and give my life to Him now.

We weren't allowed to do more than 15 or 20 minutes of formal preaching or anything because of certain rules, but Steve stood up and talked briefly for a few minutes before opening it up to the inmates for testimonies. I think four inmates stood to speak and they all had the same baseline to their story, "I was 'insert tragedy or crime here' and then I came to prison and I lost my family. I had nothing. That's when I gave it all to Jesus." Four people in a row stood and talked about how doing things their own way got them almost killed, in prison and without a family, but doing things God's way, or even better letting God do it for them has given them a new outlook and a second chance on their earth-bound life. I was thinking that these people can be such powerful witnesses to all the inmates. It made me think of a conversation I had with Jennifer before I went to the prison. I said that I can't imagine that God wanted any of these people to end up in prison. It just couldn't be what He had in mind for their purpose on earth. Jennifer said that God can use anyone anywhere, and that if their are Christians in the prison, God will use them. She was right again and it just serves as another reminder as to how great and powerful God is and how small and simple we are.

In the afternoon, six of us played basketball against some inmates. We had to play four games - 15 minute running halves - against four different teams. I got plenty of exercise. We played well and had fun, winning all four games by margins of 35, 3, 8 and 2. In the final game I hit the eventual game-winning three-pointer near the end of the game. In the second game, we played against a guy who was roughly 6' 1", lightning-quick with a decent jumper. He could get in the lane at ease and really light it up. He must have had 40 or 50 points. I found out later that he was 24, although his face looked 40, and he had been in and out of institutions since he was 14. I was thinking while we were playing how sports effectively allowed me to go to college for free for four years. This guy had more natural talent than I could dream about and he had been in prison for the better part of 10 years. Where was I 10 years ago for him? Where was anyone? He could be playing anywhere he wanted and could have a college degree to boot.

There wasn't a whole lot of conversation during the basketball games because we were dog-tired halfway through the second game. Before the third game, our correctional officer pulled us aside and told us we'd be playing against a group of guys that aren't allowed to be around other inmates. They have solitary cells and are in specific treatment programs all day long. I thought it was an interesting choice to let us be the first people they could interact with. They were all drug addicts who had been going through withdrawal since being arrested. They had claw marks and band-aids all over their necks, faces and arms. It was almost surreal.

Once the final game was done, we cooled off for a few minutes and headed back down the hall, stopping to say good-bye to everyone and getting about 1,000 'thank-yous' and 'it means a lot to us you being heres'. As we got our licenses back and headed out through the final two fences to get to our cars, I turned back and looked at what Satan probably thinks is his victory lane. I don't think so. I saw some things in there that encouraged me and reminded me again just how sovereign God is. Even though what we did was tiny on the big scale of things, I can tell that these inmates certainly were open to listening.

One of my favorite quotes from Leonard Ravenhill is, "God is not looking for a new definition of Christianity, He is looking for a new demonstration." That's all we can do right? Be a light that shines, be the salt of the earth. Make the other people wonder and want a piece of what we've been given. God was demonstrated in that prison which leaves me with hope.

If you can, please keep Steve Healy's sports ministry in your prayers as they do face a lot of garbage inside those prison walls. It's quite a calling he is leading. I'll be participating some more and passing on more updates.