Sovetsky Sport. January 24, 1968. A girl lives in Tashkent. Four years ago, her parents, former athletes themselves, brought her to gymnastics coach Z. M. Bondarenko. The coach fell in love with the slender and graceful Elvira Saadi at first sight. Deep down, Zinaida Mikhailovna had long dreamed of finding a gymnastics diamond that could be cut and polished to perfection. And then - a lucky break!
It's not as if Elvira was exceptionally gifted by nature. But she certainly had character. Hardworking and persistent, she gradually mastered the basics of movement, grace, and courage. Elvira was deeply in love with gymnastics, both because of her character and because her family did everything they could to instill a true love for it in her. Her parents were constantly interested in her training, attending all the competitions in Tashkent (and last summer, they even made a special trip to Leningrad on vacation to attend the schoolchildren's Spartakiad).
The coach also worked selflessly with Elvira, although Zinaida Mikhailovna sometimes had a very difficult time.
And so the years passed. Elvira became a strong gymnast. Newspapers began writing about her and her mentor. The coach and student appeared on television, talking about their plans for the future. And then, a few days after the televised broadcast, the Gymnastics Federation of Uzbekistan received a statement from the girl's parents. Here it is:
"Our daughter, Elvira Saadi, has been training in artistic gymnastics since October 1963 under the guidance of Master of Sports Z. M. Bondarenko. We give her credit as a coach. However, we are now convinced that she lacks the necessary pedagogical and human tact. She is extremely rude to her students, constantly yelling at them and insulting them. We cannot agree with a coach who inflicts psychological trauma on the children on a daily basis. We know that in Soviet sport, acts of rudeness towards young people are particularly intolerable. Our repeated attempts to convince Zinaida Mikhailovna of the wrongness of her actions have proven fruitless. Yet how we longed to have a coach who is not only a gymnastics specialist but also a kind, compassionate, and empathetic educator for our daughter. We request that Elvira Saadi be transferred to the Dinamo club, where she will train under another coach..."
An extended meeting of the republican federation was convened to disscuss the emergency (and the girl's departure from her coach was precisely that). In the presence of more than twenty gymnastics experts, the girl's father once again thoroughly outlined the reasons for filing the resignation...
One day the girl's mother asked the coach:
"Zinaida Mikhailovna, perhaps we should select different, more characteristic music for Elvira's floor exercises?"
What was so bad about this question? After all, with good communication between parents and coaches, athletic success comes much faster. But Zinaida Mikhailovna flared up:
"Oh, you're telling me what to do! I don't want you to set foot in the gym again! Otherwise, take your daughter and train her yourself." It was a good thing Elvira and her friends weren't present during the conversation. As hard as it was for the mother, she endured the insult for her daughter's sake. She stopped going to the gym. She met her daughter outside after class, at the entrance to the building. And Elvira began coming home from practice more and more often looking gloomy.
"Zinaida Mikhailovna scolded us again today. You know, Mom, I'm just so discouraged."
The atmosphere at training grew increasingly tense. It so happened that before the competition in Leningrad, Bondarenko's two best gymnasts were training on different shifts: Elvia in the morning, and Irina Kiseleva in the evening. Zinaida Mikhailovna decided to stage a kind of competition in training.
"Elvira will overtake you," the coach told Irina that evening. "She did a difficult element today, but you still can't..."
In the morning, the same words were addressed to Elvira. The girls grew embittered. They cried, but they climbed onto the equipment. This was the most basic, long-condemned 'fast and furious' technique.
And then something happened that couldn't help but happen. In Leningrad, just before the Spartakiad, Zinaida Mikhailovna forced Elvira to do a fast somersault on the balance beam and a difficult dismount. The girl threw herself off the apparatus in a mixture of fear and despair, and...
But Zinaida Mikhailovna didn't even get up from the bench.
"Why are you falling apart? Go take a shower."
Elvira arrived at the dorm limping. Her leg was swollen. Her parents were seriously worried and decided to call a doctor.
"Oh, Zinaida Mikhailovna," the mother reproached angrily, "why didn't you spot Elvira?"
But Bondarenko, instead of apologizing or expressing regret, retorted rudely again, this time in the presence of her students and coaches. And then Elvira realized many things her parents had carefully hidden from her until then. Forgetting the pain, she keenly experienced the insult inflicted on her mother in front of so many people. In those moments, Elvira firmly decided that she would never again attend Zinaida Mikhailovna's training sessions.
The Gymnastics Federation of Uzbekistan made a different decision. It supported Bondarenko, even though many in their comments agreed that Zinaida Mikhailovnaq does indeed often make pedagogical mistakes in her work.
But Elvira Saadi did not return to Bondarenko. Nor, incidentally did two First Category gymnasts, N. Kurmyshova and F. Dzhumabaeva, who had left her earlier for the same reason, return to Zinaida Mikhailovna's classes.
For almost two months, one of the republic's best gymnasts had nowhere to train. None of the coaches, knowing Bondarenko's character, wanted to get involved with her. Once the Federation officially approves Saadi's transfer, she'll be welcome.
Now, thanks to the intervention of the Union's Republican Council, Elvira is training with a new coach. But it's too early to put an end to this sad story in Tashkent. The conversation about the coach's culture and pedagogical tact must continue.
Frankly, I feel sorry for Zinaida Mikhailovna too. Or rather, I feel sorry for her years of work which she herself ruined. It's a shame she never understood that it's wrong to teach your students with rude shouts and orders, that lack of ceremony, tactlessness, and sometimes even outright rudeness toward athletes is evidence of the teacher's own basic lack of manners.
E. AVANESOV