When he was in high school, NAU's Javier Villarreal's mother silently predicted two outcomes to her son's life: He would be in prison or dead.

He couldn't have proved her more wrong.

Upon arriving on campus, the senior thrower on the Lumberjacks track and field team turned his life around and made a name for himself at a school primarily known for developing distance runners. Under the tutelage of NAU throwing coach Mohamad Saatara, Villarreal has gone from a troubled high school athlete to one of the school's most decorated throwers in school history.

He's eyeing his fifth Big Sky Conference championship in the shot put this month and a return trip to the NCAA championships in June.

As NAU's standout thrower, Villarreal's far removed from an at-risk youth in Eloy with four siblings in a single, working-parent home set where parental supervision was limited.

"Here I am, 10 years old, not knowing what to do with myself. So, of course, I'm going to be getting into stuff at a young age that, to me, seem acceptable and appropriate. It's one of those things where when is the child going to grasp the concept of what's right and wrong," Villarreal said. "Living in that situation, where you're not taught the difference between right and wrong, it's kind of hard to conceptualize it."

Athletics were a positive aspect of Villarreal's life, though, and he played every sport he could.

He joined his school's track and field team in sixth grade and found he had a knack for throwing the shot put. He never took it seriously, though, until his sophomore year of high school, when he realized throwing the metal ball could be his ticket out of Eloy.

MAMA'S BOY

As a single parent trying to raise five children, Adela Villarreal, more often than not, was an overburdened, working mother. She did her best to make ends meet for her children while working as an assistant urologist for nearly the past 20 years in Eloy.

As a result, her kids often had to look after themselves and became self-reliant while she was away at work.

Javier, the youngest of the five, was often under the supervision of one of his three brothers, the youngest of whom, Eddie, is four years older than Javier.

Being the baby of the family, Javier's always had a special bond with his mother.

Of course, Adela loves all her children equally, but she and Javier developed a unique relationship, one where communicating openly with each other became their strongest asset. That link was the biggest deterrent to steering Javier away from a life of trouble.

Adela's concerns about his well-being didn't start until his freshman year of high school. He began hanging out with the wrong crowd, a group of friends that were leading him toward a path of self-destruction.

On some nights, he would come home after 4 a.m., if at all.

Eventually, Adela and Javier sat down and had an open conversation about his future.

"I sat down and talked with him and asked him where he wanted to be in five to 10 years," Adela recalled.

The conversation hit home with Javier and even though it wasn't an immediate separation, Villarreal started to gravitate away from that group of friends and instead focused more on sports. Adela attended as many games or events as she could, even if she didn't understand them.

"I learned nothing about football. I was just there to make sure nothing happened to him," Adela said.

The shot put, though, was something easier for her to grasp.

Adela has watched her youngest son throw the shot put since he started throwing it and hasn't stopped since. Because so many of NAU's meets are held in either Tucson or Phoenix, she's been able to witness plenty of his collegiate career.

"Wherever Javy goes, I go," Adela said.

The two see each other about twice a month, each taking their turn to drive to see the other. For the first two years Javier attended NAU, Adela cried every time he came home and every time he left.

"I was just so used to having him around," she said.

Even when he's home, Javier practices the shot put in the yard under the watch of friends and family. On one Sunday morning this spring, a group of middle-school kids came by the Villarreal house at 10 a.m., hoping Javier could give them some pointers.

Adela went into his room, found him asleep and told him that the neighborhood kids were looking for him. Figuring he wanted to sleep, Adela shut the door and within five minutes Javier was fully dressed and out the door. He came back inside after three hours.

"He always goes that extra mile," Adela said. "He's just really different. Whatever he does, he's really dedicated."

END OF A CAREER

Adela's promised Javier she'll make the trip to Eugene, Ore., in June if he makes it to his second NCAA championship meet. It'll be the second time Adela's flown and the longest distance she's ever traveled to watch him compete. She offered to go to last year's championship in Arkansas but Javier told her to wait until his senior year.

She'll also attend the graduation ceremony at Santa Cruz Valley High School in Eloy on May 20. There, Javier will speak to his alma mater's latest graduating class, hoping to offer them inspiration by sharing his tale.

Recently, Javier spoke to one of his former teachers, who said there was a point in time where he didn't think Javier would live to be this old.

"In terms of what he's done and what he's gone through, you'd be hard pressed to find any other kids like that," Saatara said. "Coming from the background he came from, most of those kids would be lucky to go to a junior college -- maybe."

Of everything he's accomplished, though, Villarreal's greatest achievement is making his mom proud of her son. He'll be the first of his siblings to graduate from college.

Two years ago, he asked her if she ever thought he'd be in this position. That's when she told him about her fears of him being incarcerated or dead.

"I can respect that," the NAU senior said. "My mom's real honest with me -- and I proved her wrong every time. She told me one day, out of the blue, that my success is what keeps her alive and keeps her happy.

"My goal, ultimately, is to make my mom as proud of me as I can. That's all she's got."

Adela couldn't be any more proud.

"He's done what he wanted," Adela said. "He got that shot put, put it in his hand and done it on his own."

Jacob May can be reached at jmay@azdailysun.com or 556-2257.