Marquise Pryor steps onto a basketball court almost every day. At 17, he is one of the best high school rebounders in Illinois — a tough, physical force on both ends for Orr Academy.
But for now, Pryor is not taking jump shots. He’s not rebounding. He’s not even in school.
Instead he’s serving time, and the gym at his Cook County boot camp forbids basketball.
“Every time I go in the gym, I’ll just be imagining what it would feel like for me to go up there and dunk the ball,” he said in a recent interview from boot camp, his soft eyes coming alive and a smile widening. “I’ll see the basketball. I’ll just want to touch it. I haven’t touched a ball in so long.”
Police arrested Pryor in September near his Englewood home, and the high school senior was later charged as an adult with gun possession. Already facing a gun charge, Pryor pleaded guilty in both cases and entered Cook County’s four-month disciplinary program. He and his family wanted to avoid a long trial so he could play at least part of the basketball season.
He is set to be released Feb. 22 — enough time, perhaps, for only a few games but still a window to showcase his talents.
Whether major universities once interested in him will be paying attention remains unclear. His best hope may be junior colleges willing to offer a second chance. “Once he got locked up, the phone calls stopped coming,” said his mother, Lealer Harris.
Pryor isn’t the first athlete to run afoul of the law. Nor is he the most talented or famous. But his situation underscores the uncertainty facing young athletes growing up in poverty-stricken and violent neighborhoods — where prowess inspires outsized hopes for escape but transgressions can carry enormous consequences.
Basketball holds the promise of a better life, but the neighborhood offers its own excitement.
“I’ve been getting caught up trying to live two different lives,” he said. “That’s where I went wrong at — trying to live a life on the streets while living the life of a basketball player.”
Pryor acknowledged he’s made mistakes and said he’s changed his outlook. Those familiar with the lives of urban basketball stars like him hope he’s sincere.
“With these stakes, we’re talking about somebody’s life. Hopefully for the kid, he has learned long-term,” said Dan Dakich, a radio host and former head basketball coach at Bowling Green. “Kids say, ‘If I get one more chance, I won’t make another mistake.’ That goes away at some point.”
A family’s hope
The fireplace mantel in the modest two-flat on South Peoria Street is a shrine to the four children raised by Derrick Pryor and Lealer Harris. There are trophies, plaques and pictures, not just of Marquise but his younger sister and older brothers.
Marquise’s role model is not an athlete, not even the Bulls’ Derrick Rose, who grew up nearby. It’s his father. He sold cars for years and at the moment drives a truck for a paint company. “He don’t ever give up. He’s always providing for the family,” Pryor said.
That’s not easy in Englewood, known for its high murder rate and gang violence. Pryor would be the first one in the family to receive a college degree. His mom said education after high school didn’t appeal to his brothers, who have been in trouble. Records show they have not been convicted of crimes but do have arrest records.
“I was looking at him to stay clear of all those things,” Harris said. “This is Englewood. Basketball is his way out.”
Basketball also brought a sense of possibility to the entire family. “If he makes it, we all make it, and we’ll all have a better life,” said his brother Brandon Harris, 21.
Pryor said his brothers urged him to focus on sports and gave him money so he wouldn’t be tempted to sell drugs. “You get caught back in that same community, that same negative energy,” his brother said. “I’m his shield.”
Pryor excelled at football, but his talents as a basketball player drew attention at a young age. Lou Adams, then coaching at Englewood High School, noticed the skinny, gangly kid playing at a park and took him under his wing, devoting his summers to help mold Pryor’s raw talent. Adams likens Pryor to Dennis Rodman: tenacious, fearless and full of energy.
“We took the kid and gave him a lot of basic skills that that he needed and developed him into one of the best players in the state and one of the best rebounders in the country,” Adams said.
His parents said Pryor has wrestled with behavioral issues. In 2009 he received juvenile probation for shooting a kid with a Roman candle, according to records and his mother. But the adults in his life have tried to keep him on track and hoped basketball would motivate him to stay out of trouble.
“His self-esteem is up because of basketball,” Adams said.
After Englewood High School closed and Adams moved to Orr, he suggested Pryor join him there.
Aided by three new inches and 20 extra pounds, Pryor entered his junior season at 6 foot 7 and 230 pounds. In Orr’s loss last February to top-ranked Simeon in the city’s semifinals, Pryor scored 14 points and muscled his way to 11 rebounds.
‘I have a gun’
Almost every day, Adams would drive Pryor to and from the West Side school so he could bypass trouble.
But doing so could not prevent what might happen in Englewood.
One night in April, police responding to a call about two men fleeing a crime scene stopped Pryor as he walked down the street with his basketball team’s manager, records show.
Police felt a heavy metal object in Pryor’s pants. “Officer, can I be honest with you, I have a gun,” Pryor told them, according to police records.
Officers lifted a pistol with one live round out of his left pocket. He told them the weapon was for protection. He carried the gun, Pryor told the Tribune, because he was not liked in a classmate’s neighborhood.
Because he was 17, he was charged with a weapons violation as an adult.
After the arrest, Pryor returned to basketball. A judge even granted permission for him to play that summer in tournaments outside Illinois with his AAU team, the D-Rose All-Stars, records show.
“Once he was playing basketball and he was on the road with us, he never had no problems,” said Curie coach Mike Oliver, who was Pryor’s summer league coach. “He met a lot of other people, a lot of people who were doing the right things. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder.”
Pryor received nearly a dozen offers to play basketball from Division I schools, including Bradley, Oakland and Colorado State, according to rivals.com, a recruiting website. (NCAA rules prohibit coaches from commenting about prospective students.)
He considered enrolling in an out-of-state preparatory school to avoid trouble but remained at Orr to play for Adams as a senior.
With the charge from April still pending, Pryor was arrested again, in September, after meeting friends late one night in the hallway of an apartment building. Someone called police to alert them that people were talking about a gun in the hallway.
Pryor said the gun wasn’t his and that he saw it on some steps. He said that when police arrived, he took it and ran upstairs through an apartment. Police watched him throw a revolver onto the roof of a house next door.
The other teenagers were not charged.
Pryor, who was charged with aggravated unlawful use of a weapon, said his friends not only left him but that only one cooperated with a private investigator to help get his case dropped.
“These are supposed to be my friends, and they just left me out to dry like that,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “Right then, I knew what was going to happen. There wasn’t no way out, nowhere for me to go.”
Dreams of college
At boot camp, located on the Cook County Jail campus, Pryor said he learned forgiveness and reads the Bible. He regularly injects “sir” and “ma’am” into sentences.
“I made a mistake. But that don’t define who I am as a person or where I’m going to end up in the future,” he said. “I’m still going to chase my dream. My dream is the NBA.”
He said he’s gained a deeper love for basketball and realizes he has placed his goal of playing in college and professionally in jeopardy.
“I was supporting bad habits. That’s why it’s my fault,” he said of the September arrest. “It caught up with me. It really opened up my eyes.”
Said his mother: “Sometimes you’ve got to hit a brick wall to realize your blessings and what’s important.”
There still is a slight chance for a Division I school to sign him — many players commit in the spring — but it would be surprising, said Dave Telep, ESPN’s senior recruiting analyst. “He needs a chance to prove himself and he needs a chance to explain himself, and colleges are going to need a chance to get familiar with his game,” he said.
For now, there are junior colleges. “Most of our kids are second-chance kids,” said Chris Skinkis, a coach at Indian Hills Community College. “We’re gonna recruit him all the way to the end.”
Pryor’s father remains optimistic. “We’re going to college,” he said. “And we’re going for free.”
Adams said Pryor will begin practicing for Orr immediately upon his release.
Pryor laughed when he was told of Adams’ comment. But then, just as quickly as he laughed, the smile faded.
“Sir, yes, sir,” he said. “I’m going to hit the floor.”
Twitter @jaredshopkins