THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 25, 1996 TAG: 9607250534
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SERIES: Olympics '96: from Atlanta
SOURCE: Tom Robinson
LENGTH: 84 lines
If you recognize women's gymnastics as the monstrous, pressure-packed, brutal business it is, you know why Kerri Strug vaulted.
If you see her as she is, an 18-year-old woman who left home years ago to train under taskmasters Bela and Martha Karolyi with Olympic glory in mind, you know why Kerri Strug vaulted.
If you understand that she had about 30 seconds between vaults; that she had just fallen, as her previous teammate had twice; that she was in pain; that in her jangling brain the gold medal was indisputably slipping away; that she heard 32,000 fans, her teammates, her conscience and yes, Bela Karolyi, urging her on, you know why Kerri Strug vaulted.
But she didn't have to. She never knew it, but Strug did not need to risk all by running, tumbling and vaulting on her badly sprained left ankle Tuesday for the U.S. women's team to secure its first Olympic gold medal.
Why the girl who became America's hero didn't know is the issue, especially now that she is out of her dream event, today's individual all-around finals.
NBC knew Strug didn't have to vault, that only miraculous scores by the final two Russians on the floor exercise could have wrested the gold medal away.
As its taped broadcast of the team finals wrapped up near midnight, as it teased its audience by portraying the event as live, an NBC commentator reported that even a mediocre score by Dominique Moceanu or Strug, the final vaulters, would clinch the gold.
Later, a reporter in the press seats said he had quickly performed the math, too, and figured only near-perfect marks by the two Russians would do it. He was right.
No one on the floor with the U.S. team, however, claimed to have a clue. Not the official coaches, Martha Karolyi and Mary Lee Tracy. Not the girls' personal coaches. Not even the famous Bela Karolyi.
Man can split the atom, but someone with the U.S. gymnastics team can't come up with the means to compute scores and standings as they happen?
Please.
Said Bela Karolyi: ``It was obvious at that time for me, we are not in possession of the gold because there was two Russians to go on floor (exercise), the two best ones on the floor.''
That was true. But in only the strictest of terms.
This was the scenario: A 9.51 by Moceanu would have made it mathematically impossible for Russia to win. But after her two falls, her best score was 9.200, which gave the U.S. a two-day total of 388.713.
The Russians, with their two remaining routines, had 369.017 after dropping their worst floor score, as the rules dictate be done on each apparatus.
The difference was 19.696. That meant, even if Strug did not vault even once and scored zero, each Russian would have had to score 9.848 on the floor just to tie the Americans.
In the entire team competition, 186 routines to that point, only nine had earned scores as high as 9.8. Four of them were by Americans, and two of those were by Strug. None were by the remaining Russians, Dina Kochetkova and Rozalia Galiyeva, who between them went on to score a high of 9.725.
When Strug fell on her opening vault and first heard the ligaments in her ankle pop, she scored 9.162. If Strug had stopped there and limped away for treatment, her score - the lowest of the U.S. vaulters - would have been dropped anyway and the same situation as above would have applied.
Yes, there would have been that minuscule risk of losing. But after Strug told Karolyi her leg was numb from the first vault, he still beseeched her. ``We got to go one more time,'' he said.
``Do I have to do this again?'' Strug asked.
``Can you? Can you?'' Karolyi said.
Said Strug: ``I don't know yet. . . . I will. I will.''
Of course Strug wanted to vault. She is a hardened veteran with tunnel vision. She has poured her youth into gymnastics. She knew, since she will enter college this fall, that this was her last grand turn on the international stage.
She wanted to qualify for all-around, which she failed to do at the '92 Games. She told herself she had no choice. She was the last American. And she had to save the gold medal.
Someone should have known better. Some adult in a U.S. coaching sweatsuit should have been there to pat Strug on the back and tell her she could stop, before she risked broken bones, irreparable damage and her spot in the all-around finals.
That is the shame which, in the finest moment of U.S. women's gymnastics, cannot be ignored. ILLUSTRATION: Color AP photos
KEYWORDS: OLYMPICS by CNB