Sovetsky Sport. May 21, 1970. I decided to make the trip to Leninsk-Kuznetsky - to the "Mametyev Sports School," as it is known in gymnastics circles - after meeting and speaking with Innokenty Ivanovich himself during a December match between Olympic reserve teams. By that time, I had heard more than enough about Mametyet, and I had seen him many times at competitions. Opinions regarding him varied widely. Before my trip, I attempted to summarize the comments made by various people. The consensus went something like this: "Mametyev is the proponent of an extremely 'maximalist' approach to training gymnasts; he is a staunch advocate of early specialization; he is abrasive and acknowledges no authogity; he acts like a 'petty prince in his own fiefdom' (that is to say, within his sports school); he is a poor coach; and, generally speaking, people like him need to be kept in check, for they are ruining our sport."
Such an extraordinary characterization - to put it mildly - would raise anyone's suspicions. Yet I had another entry in my notebook: "Mametyev has established a genuine gymnastics center in distant Siberia - one modeled after the facility in Voronezh. Heis a fanatic about the sport; honest, selfless, and hot-tempered; he struggles to connect with people, yet he has proven his ability to train top-tier gymnasts - having produced several athletes for both the RSFSR and national teams." This was the opinion of others - an opinion that effectively negated the first.
And so, go figure, who is right and who is wrong? Which version of the truth reflects the true essence of the matter? Or perhaps there is a third? That is precisely what I was tasked with finding out.
"Welcome! Welcome!" Innokenty Ivanovich greeted me, his eyes crinkling with delight, and threw open the doors. I simply gasped: the gym reminded me of our own in Moscow - at the Palace of Sport (the gymnasts call it the 'cork hall')- only half the size. It featured brand-new Olympic-standard apparatuses, a pit filled with foam scraps beneath the high bar, overhead safety lines, and mirrors covering an entire wall.
"Well, what do you think? Pretty great?" Mametyev couldn't hide his smile. "It's a pity there's not much space, but we're building a larger gym. Come in, have a seat, take a look around..."
At thirty-nine and a half, Innokenty Mametyev is lean and possesses a youthful physique. His unfuly mop of hair, deeply hollowed cheeks, and broad cheekbones bespeak an energetic and strong-willed nature. He walks briskly - almost running - and conducts a conversation with equal sharpness and abruptness, punctuating every phrase with a sweeping motion of his hand, as if slashing with a saber. "Work! We must work!" - he repeats these words everywhere: in the gym, at home during meetings with superiors; he is constantly in motion himself and compels others to move as well. At the sports school, his voice grows firmer, and his speech takes on a predominantly commanding tone - though this is directed mostly at the coaches; with the young athletes, he is gentler, sometimes even climbing onto the apparatus during training sessions to "build up some strength - otherwise, my reaction time for spotting gets dull."
And so we began discussing those coaches - those true devotees - whose life's purpose is to mold a champion. Mametyev is one such man. Yet his vision is on a far grander scale: "I want to establish the country's largest gymnastics center right here in Siberia - in my own city. And why not? I've been nurturing this dream for ten years, and now, at last, it is nearly within reach. Our girls and boys are Siberians - tough, sturdy stock; just look at the strength and drive they possess! All that's needed is to organize everything properly, build a powerhouse of a school, and feel that there is a genuine interest in what we are doing - and then everything will run like clockwork. After all, haven't we already produced several gymnasts for the national teams? We certainly have! And if we just keep working at it - keep scouting for talent - just imagine how rich in potential our region truly is..."
Indedd, some time ago Mametyev produced a crop of talent - V. Fogel, N. Duplyakova, T. Pavlova, G. Kharitonov, V. Dubs, A. Braun, and others. One would think that the leaders of the gymnastics world would have taken a keen, vital interest: just what kind of school is this in Leninsk-Kuznetsky, and how are things run there? But no. Innokenty Ivanovich speaks with bitterness, noting that the leadership offers no significant assistance. Therefore, I feel entitled to briefly recount Mametyev's methods, tell you about the sports school, and - while I'm at it - introduce its director; for Vladimir Georgievich Savinsky is an interesting man, a truly colorful figure.
There was a rumor - and the editorial office even received a letter - regarding Mametyev's alleged 'arbitrariness.' The talk was that Mametyev was supposedly firing coaches who didn't suit him. I assert that this is not the case. However, having set out to create a powerful hub for gymnastics, he is rallying around himself those who "have both the desire and the ability to work" He imposes very rigorous standards. Unsparing of himself, he is equally unsparing of others. Yet, when Mametyev sees people pouring all their energy into the common cause, he beams with delight like a child: ("Oh,what a facility manager we ahve in Nikolai Sapkin - he's pure gold! He runs the place so well: touches p the pain here, handles repairs there; he even built a set of parallel bars for the kids - can you imaging the sheer strength required? ahe hauled that heavy frame around all by himself and welded it together with a torch... And almost all our coaches are homegrown - they graduated form the Kemerovo Pedagogical Institute, or are still studying there. That's why we share a unified methodology - a true school of thought. We've gone through so many directors - some were completely ineffectual - but now we have Savinsky; we're going to be just fine...").
The director is the complete opposite of Mametyev. Calm and level-headed, he is consumed by his responsibilities; he reacts to events with restraint, keepinghis emotions bottled up inside. Savinsky's experience and Mametyev's fervor helped them create "the Center." What exactly is it?
The sports school employs twenty-four (!) coaches. Fewer than half of them run gymnastics classes across four kindergartens, three primary schools, an orphanage, and a boarding school. In total, 683 boys and girls are involved in the gymnastics program. Just consider these figures: in a city with a population of 175,000, such an extensive network of gymnastics sections has been established!
You know, it's hard to recount just how much went into achieving all of this - how much effort and nervous energy were expensed. It might seem that they have everything they need now, but even more is on the way: a new facility is currently under construction, and plans are in place to establish two hundred training groups. Savinsky recounted the "battles" they had to wage across various bureaucratic agencies when the sports school was being upgraded to specialized status. Not everyone grasped that, under these new operating conditions, their entire approach to the work would have to undergo a fundamental transformation. And even now, they remain in a state of constant anxiety: where are they to procure the equipment for the facility currently being built? The funds have been allocated - yet the apparatuses themselves are nowhere to be found.
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