I got bitten by the gymnastics bug around the same time as every other girl my age: when Olga Korbut competed in the 1972 Olympics. Four years later, Nadia Comaneci‘s perfect 10 just added to the sport’s allure. I participated in gymnastics in junior high, though I never got beyond forward rolls on the beam and walkovers on the floor. My friends and I often took our bag lunches to a little-used corner of the school grounds where a set of metal parallel bars and some climbing poles were anchored in sand. Parallel bars, of course, was a men’s event and climbing pole wasn’t even on the roster, but we had fun making up routines on them and competing against one another.
I’m not quite sure when men’s gymnastics moved into first place in my heart (none of the schools I attended even had men’s gymnastics programs), but I suspect it began with that play on the parallel bars and my appreciation for the strength demands of many of the men’s apparati. I will watch any gymnastics I find on tv, but I generally prefer the men’s competition.
At some point in mid-March I was flipping through the local paper and saw an ad for the Pacific Rim Gymnastic Championships in San Jose. A call to Melissa, an on-line ticket order, and a few weeks later (March 28, to be exact) we were watching the competition.
The U.S. gymnasts meet the judges before competing in their first event.
The Pacific Rim Championship is an interesting event in that the teams are made up of athletes from different levels. Each national team includes three seniors and three juniors. As a result, one gets to see several “name” stars, but also gets to see some of the more promising hopefuls that the national teams are willing to make a real investment in.
A Japanese gymnast on parallel bars, my old favorite.
The U.S. team was headed by one of my biggest man-crushes of all time: Paul Hamm. Lucky for me, Melissa is a very understanding woman. She even took pictures…
Paul Hamm on parallel bars.
We were surprised to find the arena only about a third full. This was no doubt disappointing for the gymnasts, but it was lovely for us as we were able to move about and sit pretty much anywhere we wanted, so we got good views of all the aparati at different times.
Rings and pommel horse.
We attended the evening all-around competition, which featured the higher-seeded teams: Australia, Russia, China, Japan, Canada, and the U.S. The U.S. took team honors. My beau, Paul Hamm, won the individual all-around.
A moment of glory.
Melissa and I both loved, loved, loved getting to see this competition in person. The physical demands of the sport were so clear up close, with the athletes’ bodies vibrating almost like piano strings on some of the difficult strength moves—particularly on the rings. Since all the apparati are in use at once, the event is a whirlwind of activity and one is constantly aware of only taking in a fraction of the surrounding action. We’re definitely ready to attend again if this competition returns to San Jose.
The event also left me thinking about the upcoming summer Olympics. Normally, I am glued to the television during the Olympic season (winter or summer). Boxing is the only sport I refuse to watch. However, I’d made the decision last summer that I was going to boycott the Beijing Olympics because of China’s human rights record. To the Chinese government or to the International Olympic Committee, little me not sitting glued to her television might not make one iota of difference, but for me the decision would represent a a real sacrifice, losing out on a rare and real pleasure, but taking a heartfelt stance.
Watching the gymnasts compete live, I found myself reconsidering that decision. The life-consuming dedication that the sport requires of them really commanded my respect, and I wondered whether it would be fair to them to ignore their accomplishments in order to comment on Chinese domestic politics. (There are also the small—ahem—issues of extraordinary rendition and Guantanamo, if I’m going to get all uppity about human rights.)
I haven’t yet decided what I’m going to do, whether my love of sport will win out or if I’ll feel compelled to take my individual moral stance. I expect I’ll be wrestling with my choice for a good while yet.