Sovetsky Sport. July 28, 1967. At first, Latynina, the senior coach of the Soviet women's team, Demidenko, the RSFSR girls' coach, and finally Rastorotsky, her first and only coach, who found her three years ago in one of the schools of Grozny, Chechen-Ingushetiya, told me about her.
Then I looked at her. In the training hall of the Sports Palace, far from the critical scrunity of the judges' glances, and away from the ovations and disappointments of the large gymnastics platform of the Spartakiad. I saw her like this: young, with wide-open eyes, with two fluffy ponytails on the back of her head, in an orange leotard, on which the letters "Ch" and "I" were carefully embroidered, which were supposed to mean "Chechen-Ingushetiya," confirmed the involvement of this 15-year-old girl in the gymnastics team of the republic's team, to compete, perhaps, for her rightful place on the junior team.
Then she performed on each apparatus two or three times. And, my God, what a difficult program she ran through and polished!
That's how we met her: her name is Lyuda, her last name is Turischeva. Be sure to remember it. She has finished seven grades of high school. She graduated with straight A's. She got into gymnastics by accident: a coach came to the school and started looking at girls who would fit her needs. So, she went. And now she doesn't know how she could live without gymnastics. She just can't imagine it.
Coach Vsevolod [sic] Rastorotsky says:
"Lyuda is the real deal. She's like a nugget in a mine, only very large. You don't come across one like that very often. She has a vicious, competitive character. She comes to the masters' gym, watches, and swallows with her eyes everything they do. I ask: 'Do you like it?' 'No - she said - it can be better.' And she immediately begins to copy the elements she likes, adjusting them to her own routines - as best as possible. The Spartakiad is only the fifth competition of her life. And she brought a masters' program, the most difficult of the difficult ones. On the floor - a twist, a back handspring, and at the end another twist. Viktor Lisitsky looked and gasped: 'Well, well!' On the balance beam she has nine elements of the highest difficulty instead of two! Two forward rolls without her hands, in tempo, and a twisting dismount. And she keeps insisting: let's make it more difficult."
I ask Lyuda:
"Isn't it too early to add so much difficulty? Isn't it better to make it easier, but guaranteed to have no breakdowns?"
She: "No, it's better to make it more difficult. It won't go smoothly now, but it will later."
What a character! Taisiya Demidenko says that they could have put her on the adult team, but they decided to wait - let her get used to it. And then? You'll see. After all, today is her debut at the Spartakiad. And it promises many things.