The success of the Soviet Union women was not founded on reliability. Most of their World and European Champions suffered errors en route to their notable victories. Yurchenko was notorious for her unpredictability pre-1982; Shushunova fell twice on bars in qualifications during the 1985 World Championships; Davydova’s gold at the Moscow Olympics was a surprise, given her error rate at previous competitions. Often, it was the most beautiful Soviets who were the least competitive: Ilienko and Shaposhnikova were stunningly erratic. Behind them stood a whole army of astonishing but competitively inept aspiring World Champions, many of them well known but who never made World Champion teams: Groshkova, Priakhina, Shkoda, Mysnik.
The entire history of Soviet gymnastics is littered with brilliant, but unpredictable startlets. Their teams were no less likely to win because of it. We were no less in their awe because of it. A certain degree of unreliability – risk - was expected if the gymnasts were to deliver the pace of technical and artistic progress necessary to keep more than one or two steps ahead of the rest of the world. Teams were relatively unbothered by the occasional error, simply because they recognised it as part of the game.
My perspective on this probably goes against the grain of contemporary thinking on gymnastics success, partly because of changes in competition format, partly because of the predominance of the Romanian team around the mid to late 1990s, who established the ideal of gymnastics as reliable, error-free performance. And while the Romanians’ reliability may have earned them plenty of gold medals, and respect from fellow competitors, it did nothing to add to the interest of gymnastics. I’ll never forget the horror of watching Gogean win the 1997 World Beam Championships with a routine that included one simple acrobatic element.
Reliability does not go hand in hand with brilliance, risk, originality and virtuosity. Risk has a natural, synergistic link with unreliability. Originality and virtuosity bring with them a downside of risk. The upside of risk is that it takes your competitors by surprise, and leaves them in awe – how was that possible!! How can we possibly compete with that?!
What made the Soviets so great? Not reliability. Nor a wise reading of the Code. None of these, but some of the following, in varying degrees. Strength in depth. The understanding that gymnastics is a team, not individual sport. Courage. Creativity and imagination. A cultural heritage of ballet training that granted the vocabulary by which to understand and pass down beautiful, original movement from generation to generation. A concentration of talent.
To command leadership of this sport – as distinct from merely winning medals - you must take risks. This is as true today as it was in the 1980s, and I believe it is a principle that the Russians will adopt as they pursue their plan to re-establish themselves at the top of the gymnastics tree, not just till 2012, but beyond. Expect some bumps and bruises, shocks and surprises as we roll onwards into the gymnastics horizon …
The entire history of Soviet gymnastics is littered with brilliant, but unpredictable startlets. Their teams were no less likely to win because of it. We were no less in their awe because of it. A certain degree of unreliability – risk - was expected if the gymnasts were to deliver the pace of technical and artistic progress necessary to keep more than one or two steps ahead of the rest of the world. Teams were relatively unbothered by the occasional error, simply because they recognised it as part of the game.
My perspective on this probably goes against the grain of contemporary thinking on gymnastics success, partly because of changes in competition format, partly because of the predominance of the Romanian team around the mid to late 1990s, who established the ideal of gymnastics as reliable, error-free performance. And while the Romanians’ reliability may have earned them plenty of gold medals, and respect from fellow competitors, it did nothing to add to the interest of gymnastics. I’ll never forget the horror of watching Gogean win the 1997 World Beam Championships with a routine that included one simple acrobatic element.
Reliability does not go hand in hand with brilliance, risk, originality and virtuosity. Risk has a natural, synergistic link with unreliability. Originality and virtuosity bring with them a downside of risk. The upside of risk is that it takes your competitors by surprise, and leaves them in awe – how was that possible!! How can we possibly compete with that?!
What made the Soviets so great? Not reliability. Nor a wise reading of the Code. None of these, but some of the following, in varying degrees. Strength in depth. The understanding that gymnastics is a team, not individual sport. Courage. Creativity and imagination. A cultural heritage of ballet training that granted the vocabulary by which to understand and pass down beautiful, original movement from generation to generation. A concentration of talent.
To command leadership of this sport – as distinct from merely winning medals - you must take risks. This is as true today as it was in the 1980s, and I believe it is a principle that the Russians will adopt as they pursue their plan to re-establish themselves at the top of the gymnastics tree, not just till 2012, but beyond. Expect some bumps and bruises, shocks and surprises as we roll onwards into the gymnastics horizon …
Comments
Post a Comment