Super Sweet 17: Utah's Robert Johnson Continues To Marvel His Trade

The last time Air Force greeted the turf at Rice-Eccles Stadium, the Falcons left Salt Lake with more than a win. 

They flew back to Colorado Springs, Colo., with a shock. A taser taken to the 40,000 strong as those donning the crimson red were left wondering what exactly had happened. 

I vividly remember that game. It was the first game I'd been to in years. I soaked in the rays as they seemed to have being coming down with more intensity on account of watching Tommy Grady fart his way around the offense all day. 

That afternoon, nothing went right. 

But one play stood out. 

Former Falcons quarterback Shaun Carney ran a triple-option and busted through the line on his way toward the end zone. 

Carney saw nothing but green pastures and a six added on the scoreboard when he was caught from behind. He was tripped up by No. 17—turned out this No. 17 saved a touchdown. 

A 53-yard scamper was turned to a shoe string tackle at the Utah 11-yard line. 

No. 17 saved the day, albeit for a minute or two until the Falcons eventually found their way in for a touchdown. 

Saving the day has become customary to what No. 17 does as his night job. 

Now a senior, Robert Johnson (No. 17) has cemented himself as arguably the most explosive player on the now 5-1, No. 19-ranked Utes. 

Offensively or defensively. 

The kid from Watts, Calif., is hitting fifth-gear at the appropriate time for his team and his stock for such a move to the next level if desired. 

In six games this season, Johnson has accumulated five interceptions and recovered two fumbles—both of which were returned for touchdowns. 

Johnson and I were in a class together during the 2007 season. Then, he was a wide-eyed rookie at Utah, a Southern California kid seemingly out of his element for a while. 

The class featured about 80 students or so, and fittingly it was a class chock-full of football players. Why? Well, it was an upper-division class which was also called Human Sexuality 3000. 

Ipso facto, you catch my drift. 

To say the class was a delight would be a criminal undersell. It was downright hilarity each and every class. 

Yes, it was your archetypal high school-esque classroom feel. The football players spoke out of turn, were a few decibels too high during most of class, and the professor had to knock some heads. 

The extremely jovial Johnson was always interested in asking questions. Were they always legitimate? Doubtful, but the lanky 6'2" kid from South Central L.A. made the class enjoyable. 

Not enjoyable because he was a kid that laced up every Saturday for the Utes, but because he was approachable—personable. When you talked to him, he'd remember your name. He wasn't taking the experience and opportunity to be a collegiate athlete for granted. 

Even after I took a job at The Daily Utah Chronicle, he was more than happy to sit down and talk about his journey to the U. To talk about how difficult it was to grow up in a gang-ridden area such as Watts and how he had lost his father, Wayne Johnson, at the age of five after he was murdered. 

Terms such as "determination" and "perseverance" are often overused, but just talking to Johnson for five minutes, you'll know that the kid has made strides to where he is today. 

But he'd be the first to tell you that he shouldn't be singled out among others. 

On the football field, now that's a different story. 

A ball-hawk by trade, the gangly free safety roams the backfield eyeing the opposing quarterback on a weekly basis. 

The free safety position isn't for those who are susceptible to mistakes. Johnson's job is either to make the play or be the last line of defense. In the case of the 2007 game against Air Force, his job was to make the stop when the 10 other guys could not. 

Johnson's natural skill set is second to none in the nation, something that's grown quite evident as he consistently seems to pad his resume on a weekly basis. 

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