This article is more than 3 years old.

Jonathan Scheiman is leading me through his lab on the Harvard Medical School campus when he stops next to a tank of liquid nitrogen. He looks like he has something important to say. "Terminator 2 was one of my favorite movies," Jonathan says. "That was, like, Arnold Schwarzenegger's prime. And the whole thing with liquid nitrogen, freezing the T-1000 and then, 'hasta la vista' — shooting him into pieces. I always think about that when I pass by the liquid nitrogen tank." Jonathan isn’t your stereotypical science nerd. He doesn’t like wearing a lab coat (you’re probably more likely to see him in a Yankees cap) and he played Division I basketball at St. John’s. "I wanted to play in the NBA. I didn't make it," he says. "So my backup plan was getting a Ph.D. in molecular biology." Turtles And Basketball Jonathan grew up in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village during the 1980s. He was the sort of kid who was fascinated by turtles and amphibians. But his No. 1 love was basketball. "I was a ballplayer," he says. Jonathan was a talented guard with NBA dreams. He joined St. John’s during the late '90s, back when the team was regularly reaching the NCAA Tournament.

"I wanted to play in the NBA. I didn't make it, so my backup plan was getting a Ph.D. in molecular biology." Jonathan Scheiman

Jonathan was the team’s lone science major. This meant he didn’t have much time to party with his teammates. And while most of them probably spent their summers focused on basketball, Jonathan made very different plans. During his freshman year he called the Queens Zoo. "And I told them I was on the team and, like, I'd love to, sort of, work in the zoo. And I'm a biology major," Jonathan says. "They're like, 'OK ... Sure.'" Jonathan was assigned to animal husbandry, which is a fancy way of saying ... "I basically cleaned up s--- every day," Jonathan says. (Just a heads up: If you’re squeamish about animal or human waste, the rest of this story probably isn’t for you.) Jonathan became especially familiar with the bison. "And basically the way it would work is, they would send me into the bison, sort of like, holding facility with two large garbage bins, a shovel and a hose," Jonathan says. "And they'd say, 'All right, we'll see you at lunch.'" End Of One Journey, Start Of Another Believe it or not, this was actually an important moment for Jonathan’s future career. But he didn’t know it at the time. He was still focused on making the NBA. But at the end of Jonathan’s sophomore year, his coach called him into his office. "And he just sat me down, and he said, 'Listen, I'll just have to be honest with you. I don't really see you playing significant minutes here. You know, that's just how it is,'" Jonathan recalls. "That must have been — " I start to ask. "It was devastating," Jonathan says. It started to sink in: the NBA wasn’t gonna happen. But Jonathan’s coach said something else at that meeting that stuck: staying with the team, even as a benchwarmer, would open doors in the future. Jonathan decided to stay. And when he started applying to molecular biology Ph.D. programs during his senior year, he realized his coach was onto something. "During my interview for NYU, all the applicants were sitting around in one room," Jonathan says. "And I think the dean of the grad school came in and he's like, 'Who's Jon Scheiman?' I was like, 'Oh, that's me.'" The applicants were supposed to go to a Broadway show that night — but Jonathan and his St. John’s teammates had a game. "And I think he pointed out that, 'Oh, so I see you have to miss the Broadway show today because you're going to Madison Square Garden. And you're in the band, right? So you're playing in the band for the basketball team?' I was like, 'Well, no. Actually I'm on the basketball team.' He's like, 'Really?' He's like, 'Oh, do you think you could get me tickets for Madison Square Garden?' I was like, 'Well, that depends.' He's like, 'On what?' I said, 'Whether or not you're going to accept me.'" Seven years later, Jonathan graduated from NYU with his Ph.D. in molecular biology. (Jonathan’s brother still jokes that basketball got him the degree.) And that’s when Jonathan connected with a one-of-a-kind scientist. Science Fiction?

"A lot of the things that my lab has developed would've been classified as science fiction or impossible," George Church says. George Church. (Alex Schroeder/Only A Game) George is a professor of genetics at Harvard Medical School and the Wyss Institute. He's sort of like Willy Wonka — if Willy Wonka had a big white beard, a Ph.D. in biochemistry and had helped start more than a dozen companies. Among many other projects, his lab has worked on editing the genes of pigs so that their organs can be transplanted safely into humans. They’re trying to resurrect the woolly mammoth using ancient DNA. Naturally, George’s lab attracts scientists with unusual backgrounds — like, say, a former St. John’s basketball player. "Well, we've actually had a fair number of, even, world-class athletes in the lab," George says. "It's not incompatible with excellent science." But after joining George’s lab as a research fellow in 2012, Jonathan didn’t find his niche right away. One of his first ideas — studying snapping turtles — got a lukewarm response.

A lot of the things that my lab has developed would've been classified as science fiction or impossible. George Church