Noon and Family to Take a Shot at College : Track and field: Shotputter who was nation’s best at Fallbrook High School in 1990 is headed for the University of Georgia.

A year ago, Brent Noon’s eyes were as big as the 12-pound iron ball he threw farther than any other high school athlete in the nation.

While most high school shotputters lunged at the 50-foot threshold, Noon managed a launch that landed at 76 feet 4 inches.

But being out front in 1990 wasn’t enough; he wanted to be the best of all time. So he opened his eyes and targeted 77 feet, which then was an 11-year-old National Federation high school record.

With three weeks remaining in the season, Noon, a Fallbrook High School senior, was only eight inches away from realizing his five-year ambition. Putting a divot at 77-0 appeared within reach for a guy who improved more than two feet over the same time period a year earlier.

But maybe because Michael Carter’s 77-0 mark now has lasted more than 12 years, Noon’s wide-eyed optimism has dampened.

A hamstring strain--significant enough for his doctor to advise Noon to stop competing (he didn’t)--kept him from possibly reaching his goal in the season’s final weeks.

A year later, Noon chooses not to dwell on it.

“At first, it was hard to put behind me because I was so close,” he said last week. “I thought that was the most important thing at the time, but now I’m on to something else, so it’s not like it was the end of the world.”

Michael Carter’s record eluded Noon, and the experience of chasing it changed him.

He no longer talks about precise distances he thinks he can attain. He doesn’t mention names of competitors who have out-thrown him. He doesn’t talk about breaking records.

Only 19, Noon has cloaked his exuberance with a poker face worthy of a member of the Soviet Politburo.

How far have you been throwing in practice?

Practice is so much different than competing.

In years past, Noon couldn’t be kept from revealing his practice efforts.

How far do you think you can throw?

They say the difference between the 16-pound shot and the 12-pound is 10 feet. My best mark in high school was 76.

In years past, Noon always talked about Carter’s 77-foot mark and even the 80-foot barrier with a glow of confidence.

What are the good college throwers doing?

Well, 61 feet won the NCAAs.

In years past, Noon would rattle off a string of names and their best marks like a stock-market analyst reeling off all the blue-chippers.

Those past years also gave Noon reason to be tight-lipped.

He managed a first-place heave of 74-4 3/4 at the state finals in 1990. The next day, newspapers reported his disappointing effort. Everyone was expecting a record, and when it didn’t come, even a gold medal had no luster.

The goal went unattained, but Noon didn’t wait long to move on.

“The day after the (1990) state meet,” said Jim Noon, Brent’s father and coach, “Brent shook off the disappointment of not throwing 77 feet and started throwing with the 16-pound shot.”

The 16-pound shot is the college and international standard. Come August, Brent will embark on a collegiate career.

There was a one-year gap between Noon’s senior year in high school and his upcoming freshman year of college.

Although universities beckoned and even begged, there was a hang-up.

“I was waiting for someone to offer a Camaro,” Noon joked.

Actually, the hang-up was that the Noons insisted on going against the trend toward separated families. This one was going to stay together. Recruiters trying to lure Brent soon found he was a package deal.

Brent’s goal to be an Olympic shotputter is really a family goal, shared by his father, his mother Barbara and older brother Brad.

The choices were narrowed by the Noons’ intention of staying together. Not only was Brent adamant about keeping his high school coach--his father, a retired community college wrestling coach, but he sought a college with a reputable medical school to which Brad could apply.

So while Brad, 24, awaited the results from his medical school entrance exams, the Noons decided to take a year to decide where they would go to college.

Eventually the choices were narrowed to Alabama and Georgia.

Both institutions had up-and-coming track and field programs and prestigious medical schools. Plus, both had coaches who genuinely wanted Jim’s expertise.

Georgia won out.

So there’s a for-sale sign in front of a sprawling four-bedroom house on a Bonsall hillside, complete with swimming pool, Jacuzzi, a three-car garage upgraded to a weight room and a shotput ring in the driveway.

“I keep giving Brent every opportunity to say, ‘Get lost,’ ” Jim said. “But he just won’t. I guess we’re walking a fine line between untying the apron strings and going through the empty-nest syndrome, but it’s kind of natural to us.”

Said Brent, “This is a pretty unique family. Me and my dad, especially--we spend all day together. That’s the best thing about Georgia--none of that has to change.

“My dad is my coach, and that’s not changing. A lot of coaches who recruited me said, ‘Oh, sure, your dad’s welcome.’ But you could tell they were just saying that because they wanted you.”

Ralf Uebel, track and field coach at Georgia and a former hammer thrower, wasn’t sure what to expect when he first met the Noons. All he knew was that Brent, under Jim’s guidance, had become the No. 2 all-time high school shotputter.

When he met the family, he realized Brent’s performance in the shot and his close family ties were linked.

“They are an unbelievable family,” Uebel said. “When you tell somebody what they are like, they think you are making it up. But they are for real.

“They have one goal, and that they all pitch in to pursue it is really incredible.”

Talk to Brent or Jim, or Barbara or Brad, and one form of speech rarely emerges--the first person.

It’s always “we.”

“We’ve accomplished what we can here,” Barbara explained about the relocation to Athens, Ga. “If we want to reach our goal, we have to move on.”

Ken Petersen, a javelin thrower from Denmark who trains under Uebel, met the Noons several months ago while they visited the campus. When he heard they decided on Georgia and would be coming back in August, he canceled plans to go back to his native country.

“Yesterday I was talking to Ralf about (the Noons),” Petersen said Saturday. “I asked him why Brent is so good and we decided that it’s just the whole attitude. The family is so positive and so motivated. I’m still really motivated from their visit and they were only out here for three days.”

Petersen is not the only thrower to be affected by the Noon’s spirit. Last year, Randy Barnes, whose spin technique Brent has tried to adopt, accepted a long-standing invitation and stopped by for a two-week visit.

Barnes, the silver medalist from the 1988 Olympics who is serving a two-year suspension after testing positive last August for methyltestosterone, an anabolic steroid, made the mistake of showing up to high school track meets, where he was bombarded by reporters asking for his thoughts on Brent’s ability.

“I’ve never seen anything like this family,” said Barnes, who has maintained his innocence on the steroid charge, but recently signed a two-year contract with the San Francisco 49ers after exhausting the appeals process.

Barnes’ visit stretched to two months.

During his stay, he hurled a practice throw over 79 feet and, at the Jack In The Box Invitational in Los Angeles, he set a world record with a mark of 75-10 1/4.

Now Uebel is hoping for similar things to happen at Georgia.

“He’s already off recruiting more throwers,” Petersen said.

It seems Uebel not only will tolerate Jim Noon’s presence, but is looking forward to it.

“I can just tap into Brent’s dad and get all that information,” Uebel said. “You know, most coaches take their functions and their knowledge too seriously. There are four or five different variations to the spin technique, but some coaches just see it as this is the right way and this is the wrong way.

“But this shouldn’t be a situation where we’re creating clones. Some throwers you can look at their style and tell what programs they’re from because everyone in that one program does things the same way.”

Actually, Jim and Brent are trying to design a new technique. They have borrowed heavily from Barnes, who borrowed heavily from Brian Oldfield, a former world-record holder.

And that’s one of the things that keeps the Noons going. There really are no experts out there; no how-to videos. Track meets are rarely televised, and even if they were, there are no John Maddens out there explaining the right way and wrong way to throw iron balls.

Pick up the shot instead of a baseball, soccer ball or football, and you’re on your own.

If Brent Noon is to succeed, he will do so with a technique unique to him.

Oldfield used to stop in the middle of his spin and leave the ground as he released the ball. As Oldfield jumped, his legs put power into the throw.

Barnes follows through farther in his spin, allowing the ball to rock back, then snaps it forward using a lot of hip action and upper-body strength.

Noon, too, uses a full spin, allowing the ball to create its own action-reaction snap, and then, like Oldfield, tries to come off the ground as he releases the ball.

Noon figures he needs to incorporate both techniques and get both his legs and upper body into his throws to make up for his relative lack of height. He stands 6-feet-2 (and weighs 280 pounds), as opposed to Barnes, who is 6-4, and Oldfield, 6-5.

“At 6-2, to get some world-class distances, I’m going to have to have better technique than anyone else,” Brent said.

The Noons have spent a year perfecting that technique and have come to a conclusion: There is no perfect technique.

“It’s funny,” Brent said. “My dad and I argue and go back and forth on certain technique things. We’ve gone all the way back and picked up things I was doing when I first started spinning in the eighth grade.”

The year off, though, will benefit Noon in the long run, he thinks.

“Competing can be bad because it covers up a lot of your mistakes. You don’t have time concentrate on technique, so you end up throwing on adrenaline. But I really think I put the benefits of three years of competing into one year of training.”

Once again, Noon is asked about his goals. What about the Olympics? What are his chances of making the U.S. team with the nation’s top two shotputters (Barnes and Jim Doehring) sitting out controversial and contested drug suspensions?

Once again Noon remains aloof--at least at first.

“Right now I’m just looking to throw the best I can,” he said. “The NCAA championships will be the first big meet coming up. I can’t say whether I can throw far enough to win it. I really don’t know. Then the Olympic trials come up later in the summer. . . . I think I can compete in ’92 for a medal. I really do.

“Hey, I think I can win the gold medal.”