Izvestiya. May 14, 1965. Leaving Tokyo after the last Olympics, we Soviet gymnasts, in addition to pleasant memories, took home a considerable amount of doubt. The sports calendar gave us exactly six months to find answers to the many questions posed on the Olympic platform.
And now the 'time-out' has come to an end - on May 22, in Sofia, Europe's strongest gymnasts will begin competing for the Contintental Cup. This will be the first major competition of the year. Many are trying to make it more of a matter of principle than a sporting event, believing that in Bulgaria they will finally be able to test the true extent of the blow dealt to our gymnastics school at the Olympics. In fact, it was precisely this misinterpretation, in my opinion, of both the Olympic performances and the upcoming European Cup competition that prompted me to take up my pen on the eve of the gymnasts' first face-to-face meeting.
After Tokyo, the Soviet gymnasts' coaches had to endure a fair amount of criticism. Accustomed to our resounding victories, fans and sports commentators seemed to find plenty of reasons for our women's gymnastics' lack of success at the Olympics - in the selection of the national team, in training, in the patterns of our optional routines, and so on. But the premise itself was wrong - the Olympics gave us no cause for disappointment. This is my firm conviction.
The Soviet women's team returned from Japan victorious. For the fourth time in a row, we were the strongest. True, this time the gap wasn't huge - the silver medalists, the Czechoslovak gymnasts, trailed us by only 0.9 points, with the Japanese, Unified German, and Hungarian teams coming close. But the value of victory has always been measured by its difficulty. What unfolded in the Tokyo Gymnasium should be judged by the highest level of difficulty. Therefore, our victory in Tokyo seems significant to me.
The Olympics demonstrated that the level of women's gymnastics worldwide has risen significantly in recent years. Not only new names emerged, but also new 'gymnastic powers,' new schools and trends. Our students - and I believe Soviet gymnastics has every right to consider itself a teacher - have matured, graduated from school, and, as often happens, surpassed their teachers in some ways. Well, at least in their curiosity and youthfulness. The time for demonstration performances is over for us; it's time to compete on an equal footing. The Japanese capital became the site of the first such competition. It is from this perspective that we should evaluate our Olympic competitions and look to the future.
Women's gymnastics must be attractive - it's a matter of life. Currently, it's as if she's standing in front of a mirror, trying on an outfit, because she wants to be modern and is afraid of falling behind fashion. Nowadays, gymnastics is being pushed to become more difficult. This is understandable, as today's skill must be superior to yesterday's. A mind-boggling trick often becomes the goal in itself. Gymnastics is riding a new wave. Czechosolovakian athlete V. Caslavska, Germans B. Radochla, E. Barth [Zuchold], and U. Starke, and Hungarian K. Makray are currently riding the crest of this wave and, I would say, the crest of gymnastics. Their tempo routines are very complex, spectacular, and infectious.
After the Games in Japan, a columnist for a West German sports magazine wrote that "finally, an antidote to the Russians has been found; finally, everyone understands that gymnastics is a sport, not ballet." Olympic champion V. Caslavska said she envisions a future of women's gymnastics as being as close in difficulty as possible to men's.
I've devoted many years to gymnastics. I want to say that the Tokyo Olympics didn't shake my conviction that gymnastics is both a sport and a ballet. Striving for dificulty for its own sake won't benefit it and is unlikely to last. Difficulty is necessary. But I see it as a reasonable one. It should be such that the audience doesn't even think about it, so that, despite the notorious "Ultra-Cs," the Soviet gymnastics team's performances are still called concerts, so that my friend Polina Astakhova remains the same graceful and light 'Russian birch tree.' The desired result lies in the fluid balance of beauty and skill.
Last year's national championship in Kiev was unusually optimistic. I haven't seen such a joyful performance by young gymnasts in a long time. A promising and spirited new generation has emerged in Soviet gymnastics. L. Petrik, N. Kuchinskaya, and several other fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds can and should become excellent coaching material. I believe that in Sofia, where Larisa Petrik will compete in the most challenging international competition for the first time, she will be able to convince many of our foreign opponents of the promise of Soviet gymnastics. Talent is something to be celebrated, but it needs to be nurtured and worked with, so that this joy doesn't fade too quickly.
It's certainly good that a new generation of talented athletes has emerged in Soviet gymnastics. But we still clearly lack coaches who can be trusted to train young athletes. We should consider properly equipping our gymnasiums to meet all modern requirements.
However, we have every opportunity to retain the crown of the strongest, which Soviet gymnastics has rightfully held for twelve years now. All we need to do is to pursue more than just speculation. The upcoming exam in Sofia will help us in this endeavor to some extent.
L. LATYNINA