Reviewed by Jeanne
Back in 1995 when this book came out, a fellow Olympics
enthusiast recommended this book to me.
She said it was well written and quite the eye-opener. I managed to keep putting it on the back
burner, though, until twenty five years later when Book Bingo had the dreaded
“Read a book about sports” square.
Figuring the book would be quite dated by now, I decided to give it a
try nonetheless.
Wow.
Ryan details the lives and careers of a number of female
gymnasts and skaters (primarily gymnasts) who made it to the elite training
schools of Bela Karoli, Al Fong, Steve Nunno, and others who specialize in
producing Olympic champions. The
question is, but at what cost? The
recent headlines about Dr. Larry Nasser who is now serving time for sexual
abuse reflect just a small part of what goes on; the mental abuse heaped on the
girls, along with the punishing physical demands, can destroy lives. It’s
common for girls to be bulimic and anorexic as they try to achieve the perfect
body type; the book documents the death of one girl from anorexia. They’re
expected to perform flawlessly with broken bones and after surgery to repair
previous injuries. They gulp pain
killers to get through it all, lest they be dropped from the roster, which
means that their hopes of achieving fame, glory, and endorsements would be
lost.
The latter can be especially important to girls whose families
have sunk most of their available resources into lessons, costumes,
choreography, and travel, which can cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Many times the girls have to move away from
family to train full time, and I do mean full time: often they will train up to
six hours a day, six days a week. Most
have to drop out of school and do correspondence course or use tutors. They
carry not only the weight of their own hopes and ambitions, but those of their
parents.
And I keep referring to these athletes as “girls” because that
is what they are. This was the most
shocking part to me, though on one level I knew it already. In 1976, the U.S. Olympic female gymnasts were
on average 17 ½ years old, weighed 106 pounds, and were 5’ 3” tall. That’s
young and small, but by 1992 the average was 16 years old, 83 pounds, and 4’9”
tall. These children begin training
young, before they are old enough to start elementary school, and are
impressionable enough to want only to please their coach and their parents. Their
training regimen is designed to keep their bodies small and prepubescent; one
former gymnast did not menstruate until she was 25.
A little checking online brings up some dispute of the
allegations, with some saying there isn’t evidence that the tiny stature and
stringent exercise has a lasting effect.
Gymnasts are small because this is a sport where small excels. There have been some improvements. The Olympic regulations now stipulate that a
female gymnast must turn 16 within the calendar year to be able to compete, so
at least there should not be any 14 year olds (though the age of some Chinese
athletes has been questioned.) Aly Raisman, who competed for the US in 2016 was
an elderly 22.
And there are also signs that things haven’t changed. In an interview with The Washington Post, 2012 women’s coach John Geddert was quoted as
saying, “Without sounding condescending to young women, this is a little girl’s
sport. With their body changes and the
wear-and-tear everybody goes through, once they become women, it just becomes
very, very difficult.”
Just as I was finishing the book, it was announced that a
twenty year old Russian figure skater had died, apparently from suicide.
The book was easy to read, and I found it to be quite the page
turner. It was also a trip down memory
lane as I hadn’t thought of some of these names in a long time. The Nancy Kerrigan-Tonya Harding episode is
covered, though not in exhaustive detail, and some of the named up and coming skaters
and gymnasts have come and gone (Kristi Yamaguchi, Debi Thomas, etc.) I do
recommend it to anyone with an interest in sports. It certainly gave me a lot to think about.
