BEREA, Ohio — Berea sophomore Donovan Robertson sat alone, distraught and bleeding in the awards area of the state track meet last June when an official approached him and gently told him he had to go, that he wasn't getting a medal. He had been disqualified. Robertson wandered off. No one expected to see him come back, much less...
Donovan Robertson crashes to the track in last year’s state meet. He was in a three-way battle for first place in the 110 hurdles final when he clipped the seventh and eighth hurdles and fell hard, knocking a hurdle into another lane, which disqualified him. - (John Kuntz l PD)
BEREA, Ohio — Berea sophomore Donovan Robertson sat alone, distraught and bleeding in the awards area of the state track meet last June when an official approached him and gently told him he had to go, that he wasn't getting a medal. He had been disqualified.
Robertson wandered off. No one expected to see him come back, much less climb to the top of the podium 75 minutes later. But he did, and therein lies the lesson of Donovan Robertson: always moving forward, always stretching himself in ways no one expects and always on a quiet, humble path toward success.
Robertson, now a junior, has emerged as one of the nation's elite young sprinters and hurdlers through what has been a fascinating progression on the track and behind the scenes.
Robertson's status skyrocketed this spring when he briefly owned the state's fastest times in both the 100-meter dash and the 110 high hurdles, while being among the best in the 200 dash and the 300 intermediate hurdles. Soon, people began connecting the dots. Robertson hails from a family steeped in Northeast Ohio sports lore.
His parents were stars at Cleveland State, an uncle played in the NBA and another uncle played at Ohio State.
Robertson, meanwhile, is clearing his own path in unexpected ways. For example, few people, including his music teachers, know he is hearing impaired. The reason that often comes as a surprise is he's an accomplished trumpet player and a marching band drum major. He has taught himself to read music and read lips.
"The stuff he does just amazes me," said his father, Ken Robertson, a Cleveland firefighter who, as a defensive-minded basketball guard, helped lead CSU to an NCAA Tournament upset of third-seeded Indiana in 1986.
Donovan's hearing loss is not total. He has 30 percent loss in one ear and 40 percent in another, said his mother, Natalie (Boling) Dolson, a former CSU volleyball MVP and softball player from Brecksville. He has difficulty singling out voices in noisy settings and hearing people who are not facing him.
Donovan convinced his parents he could shed his hearing aids in high school, and they allowed it as long as he maintained good grades. His grade-point average is 3.6 while taking honors and advanced-placement classes.
Teachers adore Robertson, who is extraordinarily polite and greets everyone with a bright smile. He baby-sits marching band director Jeff Fudale's two young boys, who constantly beg their parents to go out more so they can spend time with Robertson.
"For a kid who is accomplished and well-known as he is athletically, he's the most humble, nicest kid you'd want to meet," assistant band director Jeff Barth said. "He's one of the kids you'd want your daughter to date."
The band instructors have known Robertson for five years and were stunned to learn of Robertson's hearing loss when interviewed for this story.
"He's a very good musician," Barth said.
Unusual strategies
College coaches are not permitted to contact Robertson yet -- most of the top track programs are expected to do so once recruiting begins this summer -- but Robertson already has emailed coaches at Stanford, Duke and Ohio State about running track while studying medicine.
" 'Drive' is the best word to describe him," Dolson said. "He doesn't like to fail. He goes out of his way to succeed."
That drive has been especially present this spring.
Last week at the Amherst Division I district meet, Robertson began an unlikely quest to win state championships in both the 110 and 300 hurdles and the 100 and 200 dashes. It seemed unlikely because of the tight schedule at the state meet -- the 110 and 100 are run consecutively, as are the 300 and 200.
Also, while sprints and hurdles might seem like natural crossovers, they rarely are. Few excel in both. Another sprinter who made a name for himself in Berea -- former Baldwin-Wallace star Harrison Dillard -- still is the only man to win Olympic gold medals in a sprint (100 meters) and hurdles (110), in 1948 and 1952, respectively.
Robertson immediately hit a major speed bump. Last week's district prelims were washed out by bad weather, so prelims and finals were run Friday, and he was scheduled to run seven races. Trying to conserve energy, he ran too conservatively in the 100 prelims and missed a berth in the final by .01 seconds. He went on to win both hurdles and the 200.
"I believe everything happens for a reason, and now that the 100 is gone, I can focus on my other events, and I'll have more energy and my pace of the day will be slower," Robertson said. "It's definitely a disappointment. I was looking forward to racing the 100. It's one of the most anticipated events of the day.
"In retrospect, I'm almost grateful I can focus on my other races, and I'll see those big-name guys in 200, where I'm better, anyway."
Robertson (6-1, 155 pounds) has another surprise in store this week.
Today at the Amherst regional, he said he will attempt a major shift in the 300 hurdles. He plans to cover the 45 meters before the first hurdle in 19 steps instead of the usual 21 steps. He will also attempt to run 13 strides instead of 15 between the hurdles, which are 35 meters apart. It is considered an elite strategy, one top college and international hurdlers use, not high school juniors.
"That's a world-class type stride pattern," said Berea coach Ryan Nigro. "Most athletes struggle to get to 21 steps, and if you get to 19, you're on a world-class cusp."
Nigro believes that will put Robertson on a path to challenge the state record in the 300 (36.34), where his best time is 37.19, run at state last year. Robertson also is inching closer to one of Ohio's oldest marks: Chris Nelloms' 13.30 in the 110 hurdles, set in 1990.
"He's a very good technical runner," Nigro said. "His being a smart student applies to his track. He analyzes a race as he runs it. That's what makes him an elite-level athlete. He's always processing."
Doubt becomes triumph
Robertson had plenty to process at last year's state meet. He was in a three-way battle for first place in the 110 hurdles final when he clipped the seventh and eighth hurdles and fell hard, knocking a hurdle into another lane, which disqualified him.
In the stands, his mother wept.
"It was heartbreaking," Dolson said. "He wanted to win so badly. He wouldn't come talk to me in between the 110s and the 300."
Robertson harbored doubts he would clear any hurdle in his next race, let alone the eight that wind around the track in the 300, a severe test of technique, speed and endurance.
"I was extremely upset," he said. "I'd never fallen before until then. It was rough looking at the podium, and nobody was eighth because I was disqualified."
Robertson had just enough time to clear his head. He ran a flawless 300 and won by .09 seconds.
"After I won the 300, there was a huge lesson for me: You can't let anything else affect you," he said.
Hailing from a family accustomed to athletic success has helped Robertson gain his footing in many ways. In addition to his parents' CSU careers, his father's eight brothers all were standout athletes at Barberton and went on to play college sports. Alvin Robertson had a 10-year NBA career, and Robbie Robertson was a running back at Ohio State.
"I definitely feel connected to that," Donovan said.
Beginning at an early age with soccer -- he's a three-year starter on Berea's soccer team -- and continuing through track, sports have helped him overcome a perpetual shyness that was a result of his hearing loss.
"That's why it really shocked me when he told us he was going to be the drum major in the marching band," Dolson said.
Robertson and Joe Vasquez led the marching band on the football field last fall, twirling batons in one hand and holding trumpets in the other. Robertson throws the baton more than 100 feet in the air. He said he's as proud of the fact he caught 18-of-20 throws last fall as he is of his other accomplishments.
"I throw it very high," he said. "I like the feeling of having every eye on me, and I just like the adrenaline rush. I like the suspense, when the baton is in the air."
Because with Donovan Robertson, you never know what's coming next.
To reach this Plain Dealer reporter: twarsinskey@plaind.com, 216-999-4661