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The State | 09/29/2006 | Deaf teen scores with helping hands
Stuart Jones hears with his eyes.
The 15-year-old wide receiver hears Bill Kimrey’s praise through the curls at the corners of the Dutch Fork coach’s mouth. A furrowed brow and pursed lips translate into displeasure.
And when Silver Fox quarterback Zach Cornett twists his fingers to sign “2-4,” Jones understands his play being called.
Jones is unlike most of the defenders he will face.
He is deaf.
And thanks to friends, teammates and coaches, he is enjoying one of the greatest high school experiences — varsity football.
“It feels good that they all were willing to learn to sign to help me, especially since I’m in a school where almost nobody signs,” Jones said.
Jones’ interpreter, Cynthia Cross, attends practices and games, and Kimrey and the Dutch Fork quarterbacks have learned some sign language.
“It started with just learning the numbers, because it made it easier during games,” said junior-varsity quarterback Schott Garbett, who was the first to begin signing.
As Jones worked through spring practice and summer workouts, the varsity quarterbacks began to take an interest in signing, as well.
“He’s a great athlete, so I’m glad to be able to help him perform out there,” quarterback Jeremy Long said.
Cross, who has been interpreting for Jones since last year, and for other deaf athletes at Dutch Fork since 1996, was impressed with Jones’ acceptance of the challenge.
Players often receive signals from coaches on the sideline during games. Jones gets his from Cross.
“It’s fast-paced, and you’ve got to know your job,” she said. “You’ve got 24 seconds, and if you get something wrong, it’s going to show on that play, and it’s going to look like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Jones wears a wristband that lists the team’s plays. If he can’t remember whether his route is a curl or a slant, Cross can remind him. Though Jones can read lips, the only way he can tell if a play is changed at the line of scrimmage is through cues from teammates.
But Jones, who wears hearing aids in school, doesn’t make excuses for his mistakes on the field.
“Memorizing all the plays is especially tough, and when you screw up, it’s really obvious, but if I do, it’s because I’m a person and people sometimes screw up. It’s not because I can’t hear.”
His parents, who discovered their son had a hearing problem when he was 18 months, never gave him the option to use deafness as an excuse.
Tim and Joyce Jones encouraged their son to try anything he wanted. They sent him to St. Louis’ Central Institute for the Deaf to learn to speak and read lips. At his parents’ urging, Jones tried several sports.
“I wanted to inspire him to do his best in anything, and, at the same time, it was inspiring to see him out there competing with his hearing peers,” said Tim Jones, who coached his son’s first peewee football team, which helped him become acclimated to a soundless sport.
He tried out for the B-team as an eighth-grader and felt he “fit right in.”
“I learned that it all depends on determination, and I was determined that I wanted to do this,” said Jones, who plays basketball at Dutch Fork.
Though he was not able to become a quarterback, as he initially wanted, Jones has blossomed into a talented wide receiver.
“He is athletic and one of the better receivers on our team,” Kimrey said.
After Jones made some stellar catches in a junior varsity game two weeks ago, Kimrey had no qualms about putting the 6-foot-4 player on the varsity squad for the first time last week.
“He works just as hard as all the other players, and we treat him the same way. He knows when we put him out there that he has a job to do,” Kimrey said.
His ears don’t work, but Jones said he has other ways of knowing what is going on around him. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up when the ball is coming in his direction. The vibration of footsteps tells him defensive players are closing in.
And though he does not know the sounds of pads clashing, the roar of the crowd or the echoing boom of his name being announced as he runs on the field, Jones feels football just the same.
“It feels great to just go out there and be able to play. I don’t feel different,” Jones said. “I feel like a football player.”
Stuart Jones hears with his eyes.
The 15-year-old wide receiver hears Bill Kimrey’s praise through the curls at the corners of the Dutch Fork coach’s mouth. A furrowed brow and pursed lips translate into displeasure.
And when Silver Fox quarterback Zach Cornett twists his fingers to sign “2-4,” Jones understands his play being called.
Jones is unlike most of the defenders he will face.
He is deaf.
And thanks to friends, teammates and coaches, he is enjoying one of the greatest high school experiences — varsity football.
“It feels good that they all were willing to learn to sign to help me, especially since I’m in a school where almost nobody signs,” Jones said.
Jones’ interpreter, Cynthia Cross, attends practices and games, and Kimrey and the Dutch Fork quarterbacks have learned some sign language.
“It started with just learning the numbers, because it made it easier during games,” said junior-varsity quarterback Schott Garbett, who was the first to begin signing.
As Jones worked through spring practice and summer workouts, the varsity quarterbacks began to take an interest in signing, as well.
“He’s a great athlete, so I’m glad to be able to help him perform out there,” quarterback Jeremy Long said.
Cross, who has been interpreting for Jones since last year, and for other deaf athletes at Dutch Fork since 1996, was impressed with Jones’ acceptance of the challenge.
Players often receive signals from coaches on the sideline during games. Jones gets his from Cross.
“It’s fast-paced, and you’ve got to know your job,” she said. “You’ve got 24 seconds, and if you get something wrong, it’s going to show on that play, and it’s going to look like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Jones wears a wristband that lists the team’s plays. If he can’t remember whether his route is a curl or a slant, Cross can remind him. Though Jones can read lips, the only way he can tell if a play is changed at the line of scrimmage is through cues from teammates.
But Jones, who wears hearing aids in school, doesn’t make excuses for his mistakes on the field.
“Memorizing all the plays is especially tough, and when you screw up, it’s really obvious, but if I do, it’s because I’m a person and people sometimes screw up. It’s not because I can’t hear.”
His parents, who discovered their son had a hearing problem when he was 18 months, never gave him the option to use deafness as an excuse.
Tim and Joyce Jones encouraged their son to try anything he wanted. They sent him to St. Louis’ Central Institute for the Deaf to learn to speak and read lips. At his parents’ urging, Jones tried several sports.
“I wanted to inspire him to do his best in anything, and, at the same time, it was inspiring to see him out there competing with his hearing peers,” said Tim Jones, who coached his son’s first peewee football team, which helped him become acclimated to a soundless sport.
He tried out for the B-team as an eighth-grader and felt he “fit right in.”
“I learned that it all depends on determination, and I was determined that I wanted to do this,” said Jones, who plays basketball at Dutch Fork.
Though he was not able to become a quarterback, as he initially wanted, Jones has blossomed into a talented wide receiver.
“He is athletic and one of the better receivers on our team,” Kimrey said.
After Jones made some stellar catches in a junior varsity game two weeks ago, Kimrey had no qualms about putting the 6-foot-4 player on the varsity squad for the first time last week.
“He works just as hard as all the other players, and we treat him the same way. He knows when we put him out there that he has a job to do,” Kimrey said.
His ears don’t work, but Jones said he has other ways of knowing what is going on around him. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up when the ball is coming in his direction. The vibration of footsteps tells him defensive players are closing in.
And though he does not know the sounds of pads clashing, the roar of the crowd or the echoing boom of his name being announced as he runs on the field, Jones feels football just the same.
“It feels great to just go out there and be able to play. I don’t feel different,” Jones said. “I feel like a football player.”