![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
| Your account | Today's news index | Weather | Traffic | Movies | Restaurants | Today's events | ||||||||
|
|
Friday, August 20, 2004 - Page updated at 12:37 A.M.
Ron Judd / Times staff columnist
ATHENS In the time it took Carly Patterson to walk 50 feet across the floor, the Games that still lack soul suddenly got a heartbeat. It wasn't over, and the gold wasn't yet hers. But just the way she walked between the just-completed balance beam and the final showdown, the floor exercise, lit a spark finally in an Athens Olympics crowd. Patterson had the bounce, the gait, the smile, the steely look of a young woman who couldn't wait to star in a famous final scene. She looked at her coach and nodded affirmatively. She looked at the crowd and grinned. She looked at the floor and concentrated. She looked like a girl who should be a lot more than 16 years old to face this much pressure with this much aplomb. Leading, by a smidgen, over defending world champion Svetlana Khorkina of Russia, Patterson went last in the floor exercise, one of her specialties. She watched her competitors, one by one, shuffle through routines that were solid, but not special.
Patterson's four runs across the floor would be described by her later in technical lingo: full-out, double Arabian, two-and-a-half layout, double pike. Laymen's terms: Charm, grace, spark, life. It wasn't perfect. It didn't need to be. Patterson rocked the crowd and earned a 9.712, highest floor score of the night. Before it was ever announced, everybody knew who would be atop the medal stand as the women's all-around champion. She leaped into the arms of her coach, Evgeny Marchenko, who carried her halfway across the floor, saying a lot of words they will both forget, and two they will always remember: "Olympic champion." Khorkina, at 25 already feeling herself fading into the gymnastic sunset, looked to the floor and forced a smile one of the few attempts at even feigned emotion arising all night from the woman who, let's face it, looks horribly in need of big slab of souvlaki. The departing champ was swept fully off the stage last night by Patterson, who made the second major American gymnastics comeback in as many nights at the Athens Games.
She got her bounce back on the bars, then hit the balance beam her nemesis at last month's Olympic trials first in her group. A moment later, when she planted her feet on the mat with a picture-perfect landing, the contest was over. Patterson, her coaches say, doesn't wilt when the camera lights come on and the crowd starts buzzing. It fuels her. When she walked away from that beam, she was wearing what is bound to become a trademark, game-over sly smile.
The truth: Khorkina never looked nervous. She looked finished, summoning up the strength, the moves, the pixie smile and the gymnast's lilt one final time for the fans, her country and those pesky judges before she could say goodbye to this silly business forever. Gymnastics can get to you, and so can the cult of personality that mysteriously clings to its greatest champions, some of whom leap right off the bars and into pop-icon status. American media are trying to thrust Patterson into that role. The questions she got after the competition, while she was still getting used to the weight of that medal around her neck, were all about Mary Lou Retton, American legacies and all sorts of other terms people throw about in advertising pitch sessions. Mary Lou Retton?
But Carly Rae Patterson was born in 1988 four full years after Retton's Wheaties box started to fade. In a month, she will be an 11th grader in Allen, Texas. She didn't know how to answer those questions. Why should she? She's a 16-year-old who said all that could be said, all that needed to be: "You dream about this your whole life." The fact that the life has been short makes the dream no less sweet. Looking at what comes next the television cameras, the endorsements, the ups and downs of fame, you almost wanted to grab the kid and spirit her straight out of here. Wouldn't it be nice if the world could let Patterson, Olympic champion, just get used to the look, the feel, the touch of that medal before more demands are made? For weeks, Marchenko had assured Patterson that an instant would come when it would all come together when the years of pain and struggle would be behind her, and a brilliant future would be at hand. You'll know it, he assured her, when you see it. "Today," he said, "this moment came." Carly Patterson seized it. And no matter where she goes from here, that medal around her neck will remind her to never let it go. Ron Judd: 206-464-8280 or at rjudd@seattletimes.com.
Copyright © 2004 The Seattle Times Company
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
seattletimes.com home
Home delivery
| Contact us
| Search archive
| Site map
| Low-graphic
NWclassifieds
| NWsource
| Advertising info
| The Seattle Times Company