But Carson is 14, starting the ninth grade at Rhodes Junior High in Mesa, Ariz., and fully aware that when she is called up to perform for Mesa Dobson High at the state track and field championships this spring, she won't be able to perform the event that recently gave her YouTube fame and a spot in Sports Illustrated's "Faces In The Crowd."

Javelin is not a sanctioned Arizona preps event. Too dangerous, it is deemed. Too expensive, it is perceived. Not enough coaches. And, apparently, too much apathy.

Few states allow javelin in high-school meets. Most are in New England, where, from afar, former world-record holder Tom Petranoff, a Rhode Island resident who invented the safer TurboJav that he's been trying to put into high schools, has watched Carson break all of his daughter's national age-group javelin records since 2003.

Petranoff sees Carson as the national symbol who could pave the way to getting the javelin, one of the oldest Olympic events, sanctioned in all 50 states by the National High School Federation.

"She's a great role model for a lot of kids," Petranoff said of Carson. "173 feet at (age) 14. The second-longest throw ever in high school. It doesn't get much better than that. Maybe that will be the trigger. Right now, it's all politics."

Javelin is practiced on the youth club track and field programs in Arizona, but liability concerns have kept it out of high schools in most states.

Petranoff figures he can eliminate the injury fear and cut down on costs with his TurboJav, a Nerf ball version of the javelin. The TurboJav looks like a toy rocket with a rubber tip, but weighs the same as the pointy aluminum javelins (about 500 grams for girls and 600 for boys). They each cost roughly $25. The real javelin can cost anywhere from $100 to $900.

"The problem is safety issues," said Mike Chapman, a former Arizona State decathlete/javelin thrower and the current throws coach at Scottsdale Community College. He works with Carson, and has been trying to get javelin sanctioned in Arizona preps for 30 years.

"But, if you look at it, you're more likely to get hit in a car accident driving home from track practice than to get hit by a javelin. There are thousands of neck injuries in football every year. But nobody is trying to keep high school kids from playing football."

It didn't help Chapman's cause last month when a misguided javelin speared a jumper in the back at a meet in Rome. He did not die from the accident, but the horrific sight was quickly splashed on YouTube.

Jeff Guy, president of the Arizona High School Track and Field Coaches Association, is for the javelin, but said it would take 80 percent of the coaches to vote for it. From there, they would have to take it to the athletic directors, who, in turn, would seek approval from the Arizona Interscholastic Association. It's a lot of red tape.

And, apparently, there are too many coaches who don't want to add another technical event that could drag out a long track meet.

But there are kids who love it like Carson. Her father, Steve Carson, the boys track coach at Chandler (Ariz.) High School, plans to petition the U.S. Olympic Committee to get Hannah into the 2008 Olympic Trials. She has to be 16.

"Twenty-six days," she says, meaning how many days by which she misses the cut.

Chapman is afraid Hannah might end up like other top youth javelin throwers who give it up once they get to high school because it's not an event. But Steve Carson doesn't plan to move his daughter to a state that allows the javelin in high schools.

And Hannah says she isn't about to give it up.