THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, August 19, 1995 TAG: 9508190194
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: Fighting the Air
Final installment
SOURCE: BY DIANE TENNANT, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: NEW ORLEANS LENGTH: Long : 202 lines
The Superdome was B-I-G.
Alexis Brion stood on the 50-yard line on Tuesday and gazed skyward, concern showing on her 12-year-old face. The ceiling vanished into blackness, high above the fourth tier of seats.
Alexis was not the only one worried about the seemingly non-existent ceiling. All the competitors arriving for the National Gymnastics Championships were glancing up, worried that they would not be able to orient themselves without a ceiling to spot as they flung themselves around on the uneven parallel bars.
And this was The Big One. The last meet of the season. The meet that would set national rankings for the coming year. Alexis had come to defend her No. 2 position in the junior division.
Her friend and fellow Virginia Beach junior, Katie McFarland, looked upward too, but the vastness of the Superdome did not bother her as much, because Katie did not expect to compete. She had come as an alternate, a bridesmaid waiting in the wings in case another gymnast could not compete. Still, she warmed up beside Alexis. No sense in wasting training time.
Some other gymnasts' coaches teased Alexis about her gym bag being bigger than she was. She only smiled, and peeled off her ``Cat in the Hat'' T-shirt to reveal a flag-inspired red-white-and-blue leotard.
She and Katie stretched and practiced little bits of their floor routines, their faces reflecting serious concentration. Muriel Grossfeld, a coach from USA Gymnastics, the sport's governing body, walked up to Katie. ``You know why people come to New Orleans?'' she asked Katie, cupping the girl's face in her hands. ``Smile. To have a party.''
She used her thumbs to pull up the corners of Katie's mouth. ``I'm smiling. I'm glad to be here.''
She turned to Deena Baker, one of the coaches from Katie and Alexis' gym in Virginia Beach, Gymstrada. ``I'm in charge of attitude today,'' Grossfeld joked.
But the girls had worked all year to get here. They weren't playing around. Grossfeld turned back to them, now all business herself. Point your fingers gracefully during your balance-beam routine, she instructed Katie. Stand up straighter, Alexis.
Alexis tried again, leaning over backward on the 4-inch-wide beam. A competitor's coach stopped to watch. ``That's super talent,'' he whispered.
The music was still going strong on Wednesday, as the juniors prepared for the first day of their competition. Scores today would count for 50 percent of their final marks. The remaining events would take place on Friday.
A sparse crowd trickled into the Superdome; most spectators would come later, to see the seniors - the more advanced competitors - perform. One person who did appear was Alexis' mother, Laura. She had broken her own rules and decided to attend the competition. Watching Alexis perform was so nerve-racking that Laura almost never watched. Just this once, she decided, and flew to New Orleans on Wednesday morning.
Alexis looked fairy-like in white crushed velvet and gold sequins as she stood under the lights, waiting to warm up. Among the dark blues, reds and blacks of the other competitors' leotards, Alexis stood out without making a move.
For the first time at a U.S. championship meet, the apparatus were raised several feet above the floor. International competitions are always on podiums. There wasn't a person in the meet who didn't have his or her eye on the Olympics or the 1997 World Championships. The sport's governing body decided to give them some experience performing in a similar setting.
Alexis scurried onto the floor to rehearse a few moves. The gymnasts had been divided into four groups. Each group would compete simultaneously, one group on each of the four women's apparatuses, then switch places.
From the stands, Katie watched her friend warm up.
Alexis moved to rehearse on the uneven bars. Her other coach, Jim Walker, stepped up on the podium to spot her.
Alexis tried a release move, flying backward from the high bar to the lower. She missed it and fell to the mat. The stadium announcer said the warmup period would end in two minutes.
Alexis watched two other girls attempt, and complete, the same move. She spit in her hands for a better grip, and launched into the move again. This time she made it.
An announcement came clearing the floor for the competition. Baker took a seat on the sidelines. Then someone bent over to whisper in her ear, and Baker sprang to her feet and ran to the stands. She turned toward Walker, waiting on the other side of the arena floor, and flung up her hands despairingly. She ran back around the arena, past a curtain into the auxiliary training gym.
The announcer began introducing the athletes, and Alexis joined the parade onto the floor-exercise podium. ``Ladies and gentlemen. . . .''
Walker found Katie in the auxiliary gym, dressed in her silver-and-black leotard. Another girl had dropped out of the competition minutes before. Katie was in. There was no time to stretch or warm up.
``Please stand for `The Star-Spangled Banner,' '' the announcer said. Alexis placed her hand over her heart. Behind the scenes, Katie dipped hers in chalk dust and waited impatiently for Walker to pin a number to the back of her leotard.
Alexis, on the uneven bars, made one flying release. Her hands smacked firmly onto the bar and swung her body around. Another release. Another solid smack back into place. Dismount. Applause.
The judges' score went up. A 9.425 out of a possible 10. In a sport where perfection begins at 10, not bad. Good enough for ninth place after the first round.
Katie finished her first event, the floor exercise, and walked off the podium. Baker hugged her. Walker kissed the top of her head. Alexis was waiting, too, as Katie came down the steps, with a quick hug. A score of 9.225. Fifteenth place out of 31.
Alexis went to the balance beam, Katie to the vault.
Baker helped Alexis tuck her ponytail up into a bun. The loudspeaker blared the lyrics ``Heaven is a place on earth.'' Alexis bounced onto the beam.
And fell off. Undeterred, she climbed back on and tried her next move. She wobbled, but her toes gripped the beam and kept her on. Dismount. Applause. But it had been a disappointing performance. Baker embraced her tiny student for a long time. A score of 8.8, and a drop into 18th position.
On the vault, Katie had improved to 10th with a 9.4.
The floor exercise, her best event, was next for Alexis. Katie moved to the uneven bars.
``Come on, Alexis,'' someone shouted from the crowd. Less than two minutes later, Alexis' routine was done. A 9.55, the highest of the day in that event. But Alexis wasn't watching for her score to be posted. Her eyes were on her friend, Katie, and her 9.0 bar routine. The scores put Alexis in 12th place, Katie into 15th.
One more apparatus to go.
Alexis hurtled down the runway, vaulted into the air. A 9.55. On the balance beam, Katie was having trouble. She bobbled and fell, finishing with a score of 8.4.
At the end of the day, with the national championship half over, Alexis was in sixth place, Katie in 18th.
Alexis was all business on Friday, the final day of competition. She was dressed even in business-suit black, albeit with a red rose splashed dramatically across the front of her leotard. Too business-like. Muriel Grossfeld summoned Walker to the risers and handed him a note. Walker handed it to Alexis.
She read it and smiled. A joke, to lighten her mood. Grossfeld nodded and smiled back. But Alexis was serious again as she went to warm up on the beam, her Wednesday nemesis. She bobbled, but after a long hang time, her toes triumphed. She bobbled again. Again. And fell.
``Please clear the floor. Prepare for competition,'' the announcer said.
Alexis would compete first on the beam, her nemesis from Wednesday. While she waited, front-runner Mina Kim, from Oklahoma City, took a tumbling run on the floor exercise. Kim landed on her bottom, and fell out of bounds. Alexis limbered up her wrists. And then it was showtime.
Alexis leapt lightly onto the beam, did a handstand. A split. Knelt. Did another split. A leap. Rock solid. A score of 9.775. She had bettered every beam score from Wednesday. And she had moved into second place in the all-around competition, only .025 points out of first.
On to the floor, her best event. The beam score had given her confidence, and she flitted across the mat to the cheers of the crowd. A 9.75. Alexis had moved into first place. Her floor routine had garnered the highest score the highest individual score of the entire juniors competition.
Alexis' spirits were as high as the Superdome ceiling. She moved on to the vault.
She pounded down the runway, hit the vault with both hands, flew into the air. A 9.55. She had tied Wednesday's score. Enough to keep her in first place. Now there was only one more event to go.
``Next on uneven bars, Alexis Brion.'' The eyes of the crowd turned her way, although three other girls were performing at the same time, on other apparatus. Alexis spit on her grips, flexed her arms, spit again. Then she was on.
A flying release. Safe. Another release, to the lower bar. Safe again. Back to the high bar, around and around. Safe. Then the dismount. A flip into the air, landing on her feet like a cat.
And then disaster.
Pumped with adrenaline, her spirits soaring, Alexis had swung just a little too hard. Her feet hit the mat and rebounded her forward. She sprawled onto her stomach under the bars. The crowd groaned.
Baker and Walker hugged her tight. An 8.675. A devastating score. And Mina Kim was ready for one of her best events, the balance beam.
Alexis, clearly sore from the landing, walked behind the announcer's stand and lay on a table. A trainer stuffed an ice pack down her leotard onto her lower back.
On the balance beam, Mina was on her way to a 9.575. For the floor competitor, the loudspeaker was booming out ``Heartbreak Hotel.''
Katie, finished with her last event, hopped onto the next table and iced down her left ankle. Alexis lay with her face turned away, head cradled on her arms.
But both were up again in minutes. It was time for awards.
First-place winner Kim was being interviewed by reporters, but all the questions were about Alexis. What, they asked, if she hadn't fallen on the dismount?
Katie had placed 22nd, a good showing for an alternate who never expected to compete.
Alexis had placed third. On the main podium, in the center of the mat, she received a team jacket and a bouquet of flowers. She'd earned a spot on the U.S. junior national gymnastics team.
And around her neck was hung a medal, a first-place medal for floor exercise.
First place in the nation in her favorite event. Alexis held up the bouquet and smiled, tiny in the center of the Superdome.
But tall enough. And still a champ. ILLUSTRATION: Color photos by Tamara Voninski, Staff
Alexis Brion enj;oys a hug from her mother, Laura, after the U.S.
junior nationals. she worked her way from sixth Wednesday to first
with one event to go in Friday's all-around finals. But a fall on
her uneven-bars dismount dropped her to third.
Alexis shone in her best event, winning the mational title in the
floor routine.
Photos by Tamara Voninski, Staff
Shots of Alexis looking in; working out; falling off the balance
beam
by CNB