High Noon: At 16, He’s Already One of State’s Best Shots

A year ago, Brent Noon’s throws sounded like those of any other shotputter at Fallbrook High School.

“Hrrrmmmphhh,” the freshman would grunt as he released the 12-pound metal ball.

Thud , the shot would land.

And so it went, day after day:

“Hrrrmmmphhh . . .” Thud.

“Hrrrmmmphhh . . .” Thud.

Until one day:

“Hrrrmmmphhh . . .” Clonk.

Noon’s throw had sailed into the logs entrenched 58 feet from the shotput circle. It was farther than any freshman in the country would throw last year, a throw by an easygoing kid whom others at Fallbrook used to beat up.

Brent Noon may be man-sized, but when his throw hit those logs, he reacted like the 15-year-old kid he was.

He laughed. Then he heaved another shot that careened off the dirt and into the logs.

“It would hit and skyrocket into the air,” Noon recalled with glee. “It would come near a car (parked outside the throwing area). It was great.”

Brent Noon enjoys throwing the shot.

“On New Year’s eve, after the hors d’oeuvres and what have you, Brent and (his brother) Brad used to go outside and throw the shot. That way, they could say they were the first ones in California to throw the shot that year,” said Barbara Noon, Brent’s mother.

She continued.

“And when we travel, Brent and Brad always have a shot in the back of the car. When we stop somewhere, they’ll throw it in the parking lot.”

She paused.

“Oh, it’s an indoor shot, which has a rubber surface. I don’t want you to think they leave potholes on parking lots in Taco Bells across America.”

In tiny Bonsall, where three families of Noons live on a 20-acre hill, you might see Roy “Pappy” Noon, 74, chasing rolling shots thrown by his grandson Brent, now 16.

Because if Brent really gets into one, the shot could roll to about 70 feet, where there is a ledge and 400-foot dropoff.

“Sometimes Pappy can’t get there quick enough,” Brent said. “I’ve lost about six or seven (shots). Somebody’s going to find them one day in the bushes down there.”

Noon is not like a pitcher who wows the bullpen coach with his stuff but gets hammered in games. His success rolls into meets.

As a freshman, Noon edged senior Junior Seau of Oceanside for the San Diego Section shotput title with a throw of 57-6 3/4. He finished sixth in the discus.

In the state meet at Sacramento, Noon, the youngest shotputter by two grades, finished seventh. His throw of 58-1 3/4 broke the state record for freshmen held by El Cajon Valley’s Curt Hampton. And it was the longest of any freshman in the nation.

“He was stealing the show in state,” said Tim Oder, Fallbrook coach. “Kaleaph Carter (a Huntington Beach Edison junior who finished second) was fawning all over Brenty. It was a big production.”

Noon recalled: “Actually, on the way up to state, I was saying anything can happen. Then (Simi Valley Royal’s Dave) Bultman threw 67 feet, and I said maybe wait until next year.”

It is the last day before spring break, 1988. Brent Noon’s hulking body pirouettes and, with the power of a grizzly and footwork of a tap dancer, he sends the shot flying about 60 feet.

“Not bad, Brenty, but you’re losing your left leg early,” says his father, Jim.

A week earlier, Noon had thrown a personal best of 62-0 1/2, which through Sunday was the second-longest throw in the nation by a high-school competitor this year, according to Track & Field News, and broke Carter’s state sophomore shotput record (61-11).

Brad Noon demonstrates how Brent can get more oomph from his legs. Brad, 21, represents an earlier link in a chain of standout shot and discus throwers for Fallbrook. Brad, who is now at Point Loma Nazarene College and who plans to go to medical school, helps his younger but bigger brother (Brent is 6-feet 2-inches, 255 pounds; Brad weighs about 30 pounds less.)

“Brent gets down on himself now and then. I help him snap out of it,” Brad said.

The scene helps explain Noon’s prodigious throws.

While other kids excitedly talk of spring vacation, the Noons just as excitedly fine-tune Brent’s technique.

It’s flat hard work.

Noon, whose day begins at 6:30 a.m., spends three hours after the final class bell running sprints and throwing as his trouble-shooting father and brother observe.

Then it’s home to the Noons’ garage/workout room, which has more than 3,000 pounds in weights.

The family--including Barbara and Parrot, a pet Doberman--accompanies Brent in the weight workout.

The family approach, Oder pointed out, takes the “I” out of such an individual activity. “My coach in high school always used to tell me sob stories about kids losing interest,” Oder said. “I never believed him. But I’ve seen it every year in in my 17 years of coaching. But Brenty could be different--his family is tremendous.”

The weightlifting is done, but there’s more for Brent--rope jumping, hill climbing and videotape sessions.

“I start my homework about 10 or 11 sometimes,” said Noon, who has a 3.5 grade-point average. “Sometimes you feel really dead; you just want to go to bed.”

The work ethic and unity spring from Jim Noon’s 18 years as a wrestling coach at Foothill College in Palo Alto. The family would attend meets and practices, and the wrestlers would come to the coach’s home, where their work habits and maturity rubbed off on young Brent.

A former football player and wrestler at San Jose State, Jim has undergone several operations on his back and one on his neck.

“The doctors said take an early retirement or you are going to die,” he said, not entirely kidding.

So Jim moved to Bonsall, where his grandparents lived, and he limited his coaching load to Brad and Brent.

“We all know throwing the shotput isn’t going to cure cancer,” Jim said. “But we tend to be intense in whatever we do, whether it’s mowing the yard or whatever. And maybe that attitude will help Brenty later on.”

Said Brent: “I never wonder what else I could be doing. I enjoy this. Having my whole family working with me, that’s fun. My dad, he’s just got the knack. He’s good at coaching.

“I’d like to go where Brad goes to (medical) school. I’d like to stay close to my family. They’re always coaching me. They do everything. They’re up until 3 a.m. trying to work everything out. They know exactly what I have to do. Part of the problem with being a shotputter is not knowing what you’re doing wrong.”

Despite his success, Noon has glitches in his technique. Generally, there are two types of shotputters, gliders and spinners.

The glide is the older, established and more-used technique. Spinners--akin to disciples of the Charley Lau school of hitting a baseball--say their approach is better but also more difficult. Popularized by Brian Oldfield, the spin technique requires an extra pivot and, theoretically, puts more power on the put. Because the spin method more closely resembles the discus technique, one can interchange the two better, spinners say.

Noon adopted the spin in eighth grade, a year after he began throwing competitively. He has not mastered the technique, he and his father say, and that is why they expect him to continue to improve.

How much?

“I want to win the state title this year in both (the shot and the discus),” Brent said. “I’m shooting for 67 and 190.

“The legs, the hips, getting into the right position--I think I’ll do it fairly soon. When I do that, it’s a matter of how much quickness and how much strength can I put into the shot.

“I’ve never had what you would call a perfect throw . . . there is no such thing. I’ve had a throw with good distance, but I don’t think I’ve had a good throw. I wouldn’t even say I’ve been real close.”

Said Jim: “He’s never really hit the ball like he can. He’s doing everything right and everything wrong. What he’s doing is losing his left lower side early so that he has no power from his right leg. Unless you slow it down on videotape, you can’t tell, but he is.

“Brent can bench press 430 (and squat 600 pounds), but he is probably throwing like someone who weighs 150 pounds or so. I think he can throw 67 feet or possibly 70. But it doesn’t matter. It’s a lot of fun trying.”

Noon’s prime competitors in the shot figure to be Edison’s Carter, who has thrown a national-best 62-5 this year and was state runner-up the previous two; and Rick Fuller, a 6-7, 270-pound spinner from El Monte Arroyo who has thrown 61-6 and finished fifth at state last year.

Though his best of 170-3 in the discus is about 12 feet shy of the state’s best this year, Noon said he can reach 190 and “that should be about what will win state.”

Among his other goals this year are the San Diego County records of 65-11 and 195-6, set by Hampton and Billy Joe Winchester, then of Mt. Miguel; and the national shot record for sophomores of 67-3, set by Louisiana’s Arnold Campbell in 1982.

But Oder and the Noons tempered all talk about goals and records. They say Brent’s chronic knee problem--he hyperextended it in seventh grade and twice has undergone surgery in the past year--could scotch his career in a day.

When Brent Noon, who rarely requires a shave, goes to leave a classroom, he has trouble.

“Getting in the desk is fine,” he said. “But getting out, sometimes I get stuck and the whole chair lifts.”

His size creates misperceptions:

“People do say that we’re just big guys and all he has to do is throw the metal ball,” he said. “Sometimes I try to explain, but that’s the way it is. . . . A lot of people don’t realize it, but honestly, I can say throwing the shot is the most technical event in track. Some of the problems in discus are multiplied in shot. A quarter turn of the foot can mean five feet.”

Oder, who is 6-5 and 250, offered another misperception:

“There was a kid at the Mustang Relays who asked Brenty how much he could bench, and Brenty told him. The kid wouldn’t believe him. He’s big, and people are jealous. People don’t realize how hard he works.”

Said Brad: “A lot of people don’t understand. They see him and think he’s like a robot. He’s a good kid. A happy kid.”

Repeatedly, people ask Noon why he does not play football, a sport he enjoys.

“It would take too much time,” he said, adding that his knee could collapse.

Said Oder: “People look at him and get angry, they get jealous. They think he’s a sissy. Nobody in our football program puts in the work this kid has.

“What he has chosen to do is be the best. I had a couple kids who should have thrown 60 but got senioritis, girls, cars or whatever. A lot of 15-, 16-year-olds are not willing to sacrifice it all, and that’s sad.”

None of those misperceptions seem to bother Noon.

But another does.

“People look at me and think I do steroids,” said Noon, who says he knows some shotputters who do take the muscle-enhancing drug. “That’s one thing that bugs me.

“I don’t do steroids. I think they are wrong. And it bugs me that I could lose to someone who uses them.”

Hard work has brought Noon a way. Along the road ahead, he’d like to break another record, the school discus mark set by Robert Dakovich (175-0).

“That record would be nice--they (Dakovich and friend Bill Phillips) used to beat me up,” Noon said.

Finally, he’d like a more audible, less-renowned record:

“They’ve moved the (logs) back,” Brent Noon said with a laugh. “They’re 77 feet now. Hopefully, they’ll have to move ‘em back again someday.”

THE GROWTH OF BRENT NOON

Marks with regulation high school shot (12 pounds) and discus (3 pounds 9 ounces) except where noted: *--Junior high shot (8 pounds 13 ounces) or discus (2 pounds ounce)

Grade Height Weight Discus Shotput Bench Seventh 5-10 180 152-0* 48-0* 230 Eighth 6-0 210 138-0 58-0* 295 Ninth (early) 6-1 230 146-10 1/2 52-2 1/2 380 Ninth (late) 160- 1/2 58-1 3/4 10th (March 11) 6-2 255 164-0 60-1 430 10th (April 7) 170-3 62- 1/2