Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, September 28, 1995 TAG: 9509280019
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-5 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: RAY COX STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: FLOYD LENGTH: Medium
If true, she certainly is taking her time.
Two full seasons and three games of a third would appear to be more than an adequate period in which to accomplish those objectives. Which suggests that she may have an altogether higher purpose.
Her top-secret agenda?
``I love football,'' she said in unmistakably rapturous tones.
After striving diligently at her craft - place-kicking - every day but Wednesday and Sunday when she goes to church, Robinson is on the verge of attempting her first touchdown conversion kick for the varsity team.
The inaugural boot (she's kicked one for the junior varsity team that was negated by a penalty) will depend on a couple of factors. One is whether she is sufficiently impressive in practice and game-day warmups to her kicking coach, Scott Thompson, to beat out the other kickers on the team.
That day probably is coming sooner than some may think.
``She'll have a good chance of kicking for the varsity before the year is out,'' said Barry Hollandsworth, the junior varsity coach for whom she handles kickoff chores.
Robinson is technically still a JV player, but at Floyd County, all 10th graders dress out for the varsity game and are eligible to play.
She also has a vote of confidence from Winfred Beale, the varsity boss.
``She'll be a good little midrange kicker,'' he said.
The other factor that is delaying her varsity debut is a sputtering Buffaloes offense. In its first three games of the season, Floyd County had been held to one touchdown scored, thus severely limiting the window of PAT kick opportunity.
Robinson was a two-way lineman last year on the JV. This year she was made a full-time kicking specialist, the job she was recruited to do to begin with.
Recruited?
``Two years ago, when I was in the eighth grade, the eight-grade football coach [Stan Hawkins] came up to me and told me that some people had seen me kicking on the sidelines at my brother's football practice,'' she said. ``He asked me to come out for the team. I tried out and made it.''
And into the fray she went.
``Right away I was hooked,'' she said.
The team took her right in.
``To be honest, the guys have been great,'' she said. ``At first, they asked me what made me want to play, but otherwise, they've just treated me like part of the team.''
Even opposing players have been easy to get along with.
``One of them said, `I remember you from eighth grade,`'' she said. ``You're the girl. Cool.''
She 's been quite a girl in other respects as well. For one, she is a top student, who had a 4.0 grade-point-average on a 4.0 scale the last time grades were calculated. She likes Math best and is taking Algebra II this year.
She doesn't let on, but those who know her say she's a little disappointed that she isn't getting in on more of the beating and banging part of the game.
``I'll be ready if they need me [to play the line again],'' she said. ``The coaches have taught us well to use all the proper techniques.''
Occasionally, she frets that she is drawing too much attention.
``The guys deserve most of the credit, '' she said.
Hollandsworth says she has one major obstacle to overcome.
``She worries too much about what other people think,'' he said. ``Too bad about what other people think.''
Easy for him to say. He wasn't there with those officials when they stumbled into the Floyd County girls' locker right after she finished getting dressed before a game this year.
``You're a girl!'' she quoted one of them as saying. ``Are you playing?''
Hopes to.
``I think it's great,'' said Lauren Jones, one of Floyd County's female football managers, adding she never could play the sport. ``I don't have as much as courage as she does.''
Robinson has courage to spare.
``I'd love to play,'' said Kay Forehand, another manager. ``But guys can go out if they're mediocre; girls can't.''
Memo: Also ran in September 28, 1995 Neighbors.