athletes, communication, condescending twatbags, mental health, social media, stupid people

Simone Biles is now my barometer for decency on Facebook…

Today’s featured photo is a screenshot of someone’s very appropriate meme.

For some reason, Facebook keeps suggesting certain groups and pages for me that the powers that be think I “might like”. I do like Simone Biles. I think she’s amazing. To be 26 years old and still doing the breathtaking gymnastics she does is incredible, in my view. So I don’t mind seeing Simone’s fan page on my social media account, even though I don’t technically follow it. She’s legitimately a great athlete and an excellent role model. And I think that, even though she withdrew from most of the women’s gymnastics events at the 2020 Olympics (held in 2021, because of COVID).

Naturally, because I see that page, I also see the hateful comments that mostly come from middle-aged, conservative, white guys who are weighing in from the couch. They leave sarcastic, rude, and sometimes abusive remarks about Simone, calling her a loser, a quitter, a “has been”, and God only knows what else. I’m sure a lot of what they write is sexist and racist, too, although I don’t spend a lot of time hunting down what they have to say. It just isn’t that important. Edited to add: after I wrote this, I did block a guy who posted that he thought she was transgender. SIGH…

Ever since Simone announced that she would be trying for the 2024 Summer Olympic Games in Paris, these creepy incels have been coming out of the woodwork. I first noticed it in early July, and wrote about it then… I also wrote about it in passing on a post I wrote four days ago, which wasn’t that much about Simone as it was people judging others. Today, I feel the need to write about it again, because… why not?

I’ve decided that I will automatically block people who make mean or rude comments about Simone Biles. I figure if someone feels the need to spew their negativity about her on a fan page, they aren’t someone I want to run into again on social media. And, just because I was feeling a bit trollish myself, and I knew it would rile up the haters, I wrote this on the Queen Simone Biles page:

I love blocking all the toxic people calling Simone a quitter!

Most of the responses have been positive, but there have been a few hateful, rude, and sarcastic comments, too. And those people, I’ve immediately blocked. I’ve also blocked people I have only observed and never even engaged with, simply because they leave mean comments about Simone. Simone, by the way, isn’t a quitter yet. She’s still competing and winning. When she does inevitably leave elite level gymnastics, she will still be an amazing gymnast with an incredible record.

This morning, I was surprised to see a few folks complaining about my new policy! Especially since other people started doing the same thing! One guy said I was living in an “echo chamber”. Another complained about “cancel culture” (and just what is he doing with his mean comments about Simone?). Other people said they had the “right” to criticize Simone for what she was doing. I see one guy, whom I have already blocked, has clearly continued to argue about how Simone is taking some other person’s Olympic dream. He’s doing this on a FAN page! Why? Most of these folks don’t even look like the type who enjoy watching gymnastics. They appear to be more like the type to watch pro wrestling while they suck down a Miller Genuine Draft.

I am actually convinced that blocking these people is going to improve my Facebook experience overall. Simone Biles is a great barometer for the quality of people on Facebook. If you’re the type of person who intrudes on a fan page for an amazing athlete who suffered from a legitimate mental health issue that jeopardized her safety, you have no place on my timeline. I don’t have anything to say to you, and I don’t want to read your mess.

When I woke up to complaints that I was blocking people, I wrote this:

Lots of incels wanting me to block them! Love it, because I don’t have to see their ignorant comments ever again!

It IS funny, isn’t it? I announce that I block haters, so they all flock to leave insulting comments to me, so I can more easily block them. Is this something they enjoy? Because once I block them, we won’t be interacting again, unless they have a different Facebook account. They could just as easily block me. Then the blocking power would be in their hands.

To the person complaining about “cancel culture” and my living in an “echo chamber”, I wrote this… (after I blocked them, of course– for everyone else):

Isn’t this page called Queen Simone Biles? Why should people who enjoy Simone’s athleticism have to put up with comments from clueless, negative haters who just came here to troll everyone with their hate? Aren’t there enough news outlets for doing that?

Don’t put hateful comments on a page specifically for Simone Biles, and you won’t be blocked.

I am not stopping anyone from leaving their comments. I am simply preventing their comments from affecting me. I don’t want to read that shit, and if that’s what you’re spewing on an athlete’s page– someone you DON’T even know or care about– that’s a sign that, in general, you don’t have anything interesting to say. So why would I want to communicate with you? Aren’t people taught any manners anymore?

I hasten to add that I don’t block people who are merely critical. One woman, whom I haven’t yet blocked, wrote this:

Yes mental health matters but 90% of us can’t quit our jobs because of it.

This was my response:

But most people’s jobs don’t result in severe injuries, paralysis, or death if they keep working while they have a mental health problem. Why don’t you try to have some empathy?

Besides, the rest of the team did brilliantly, anyway.

The negative people commenting don’t seem to understand that Simone wasn’t able to determine where she was in the air. That can be a fatal issue for someone who is hurtling through the air, twisting and turning and trying to land on their feet. It could mean the difference between landing safely and landing on their head, breaking their neck or shattering their spine, or another body part. No medal, Olympic or otherwise, is worth that risk.

And to put this more in perspective– NBC News reported that the actual monetary value of an Olympic Gold Medal at winter 2022 gold prices was about $750. That’s $750 for all of the hours, blood, sweat, tears, and monetary sacrifices these athletes and their families make in pursuit of Olympic glory. Especially when the vast majority of the gold medal winners will eventually be forgotten by time. Lots of formerly great athletes have gone on to have perfectly mediocre or even sad lives after that glory. Trying for that medal is NOT WORTH risking one’s life or even their ability to walk.

There is already so much tragedy in the world. The fact that a 26 year old Black woman is making athletic history is GOOD NEWS. I want to read about her progress and cheer her on. If I’m on a fan page, that’s what I expect to do. People who show up on fan pages to spew venom are assholes who either lack the intelligence or the respect to engage in an appropriate way. Therefore, they can all just fuck right off. I think it will make my online experience much better, on the whole, as I kick them into Facebook oblivion.

I could just leave this as a parting shot…

There are PLENTY of news outlets reporting on Simone Biles where the haters can opine. I’ll probably block them there, too, though. Because seriously? Who needs it? If I want any more shit out of those people, I’ll squeeze their heads!

Incidentally, I’ve also been blocking random people who anger react at me and leave me insulting comments when I wasn’t even engaging with them. Life is too short for that bullshit.

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family, first world problems, nostalgia, YouTube

Weirdly enough, now I’m hooked on gymnastics… although I’ll never turn a cartwheel!

Yes, that’s an elderly gymnast proving that the sport isn’t just for the young. No, I will not be emulating her. I have no gift for gymnastics. I just like watching it sometimes…

This is probably going to be a somewhat short post. I find myself oddly bereft of a good topic this morning. Oh sure, I could write about the nonsense about people who are boycotting Bud Lite because they used a transgender model in their advertising. I could write about Donald Trump, but as I mentioned recently, he should be getting less airtime… Or maybe I could write more angsty crap about people I run into online, but I figure y’all have about had enough of that, too.

So that leaves gymnastics. I want to make it very clear. I’ve NEVER so much as turned a decent cartwheel myself. I don’t have any experience as a gymnast. I think I might have taken Mr. Moyer’s tumbling class at Oak View Elementary School (Fairfax, Virginia) in the late 1970s. I don’t remember being successful at it at all. I was never good at most sports. I tended to do best at sports that didn’t require teamwork.

Sometimes in the 80s, I started watching women’s gymnastics. I got kind of obsessed with it. In the late 80s, the gymnasts were mostly about my age, and that was during an era when they weren’t particularly successful on a world stage. I thought Bela Karolyi was interesting, because he was from Romania and had bravely defected, striking out in the United States. I didn’t know how toxic the sport could be. I just knew that the gymnasts had beautiful bodies, lots of physical strength and stamina, and musicality. I also knew they were super brave!

Yesterday afternoon, I found myself watching parts of a documentary about gymnastics. The clips I saw were mostly about Mary Lee Tracy, a well known coach of elite women gymnasts. It was so strange listening to her speak, because it reminded me a lot of when I used to take riding lessons. The way she spoke; the way she worked with her gymnasts; and the interaction among the gymnasts reminded me of some of the riding instructors/teachers/coaches (whatever your favorite term is) I encountered back in the 80s. A lot of them were focused on winning, rather than the other things the sport delivered, like horsemanship, physical coordination and strength, being outdoors, companionship, and yes, even teamwork.

She could be a riding coach…
Why was I watching this?

I started watching the gymnastics documentary clips after I wrote about an interaction I had with a woman in Northern Virginia who appears to be involved with horses. Our brief, unpleasant interaction reminded me, again, of some people I ran into during that era. I loved my horse, and I mostly enjoyed everything associated with that time. But when it came to competitions, things could get kind of ugly. In the horse world, sometimes it was especially difficult, as sometimes we were up against people who were riding extremely expensive and talented horses. Those of us with more modest means sometimes had a tougher time winning… although I certainly had my share of victories.

Now… horseback riding is really not on the same level as gymnastics, of course. It does require some courage, as you’re teamed up with an animal who is bigger and stronger than you are, and you can’t always control or predict their behaviors. If you want to jump, that can be nerve wracking, too. I remember being kind of scared of jumping for a long time after I took a fall. I eventually got over it and got into jumping at shows. Sometimes, I even did well! But, I wasn’t a particularly talented rider, like some of my friends were. I still managed to do relatively well, though. I don’t think I could have enjoyed any success as a gymnast.

Sometimes, I think about things I did when I was growing up and wish I’d made different choices. I’m not just referring to regretting things I said or bad behaviors. I mean I wish I’d focused on things I’m naturally good at, like music and writing. On the other hand, because of my past with horses, I can speak and write with authority on that topic. I may not look like it nowadays, but I did pretty much used to eat, sleep, and breathe horses when I was growing up.

Then again, my parents were really into music when I was a kid. I know, given the way my dad was, if I had been into music too, he would have made my life hell. I think there was a part of my dad that was kind of proud of me, but there was another side that was envious. Even when I was a young adult doing music, he tried to compete with me. I sensed that he really resented my abilities. I also don’t think my dad liked me very much. He didn’t treat me very well. So, if I had been into choir or some other musical activity, my dad probably would have alternately demanded that I also be involved in his many choral groups, or he would have begrudged me for doing well… or perhaps for being “better” than he was.

So I chose to ride horses instead of involving myself in something I innately do well. And like a lot of people, I left riding when I became an adult, because it’s an expensive and demanding sport. I now have the time and money for riding, but I think I’d be hurting if I went riding now. It’s been a LONG time since I was last in a saddle. I also don’t enjoy interactions with the uppity, and the riding world, unfortunately, is full of those types…

Here’s another observation I’ve made. I no longer like to watch horse events on TV. I think watching show jumping makes me sad, because it reminds me of being young and having a horse. BUT– I will watch gymnastics, even though I have never been in the sport, and I know it’s rife with some disturbing stories of abuse. To a lesser extent, I also like watching ladies figure skating. I also took skating lessons when I was very young. I was actually pretty good at skating– both ice skating and roller skating– but I quit ice skating when we moved to Gloucester, because there weren’t any ice rinks down there. I think there’s now one somewhat closer to Gloucester, but it still would have been impossible to be involved in that sport when I was a kid.

I think the biggest observation I’ve made, though, is that life is fleeting… and when you’re young and devoted to something like a sport, you don’t realize that time is passing. Eventually, most athletes move on from their sports. Riding is something that a person can possibly do forever… but there’s a high price to be paid. I’m already 50 years old, and I have yet to own a home. 😀 How can I fantasize about having horses in my life again?

Anyway… I know this is kind of a strange post. I just had this thought yesterday, as I was listening to Mary Lee Tracy speak. It gave me a flashback to the 80s. I feel like that wasn’t so long ago, but it really was… and I spent so much time in the barn, hanging out with horses. Granted, riding kept me out of trouble– which is probably why my mom was happy to pay for it– but now I’m left missing it somewhat, as I also regret not studying music, or doing something I could have developed more when I was younger and enjoy more today.

Aren’t first world problems fun? I probably ought to read more books instead of watching YouTube videos.

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book reviews

My review of Unbreakable by Jelena Dokic, with Jessica Halloran…

January seems to be my month for reading true stories. Early this morning, because I couldn’t sleep, I finished reading 2017’s Unbreakable, the story of tennis phenom Jelena Dokic, ghostwritten by Jessica Halloran. I bought this book a week ago and finished it in less than 48 hours. Part of the reason I finished so quickly is because I’m alone this week, but I also found it a very compelling and interesting book. I don’t follow tennis at all, and had never even heard of Jelena Dokic before I read Unbreakable. But her story interested and frustrated me on many levels. I think anyone who has ever had to deal with a controlling, narcissistic, alcoholic person will relate to it.

Who is Jelena Dokic?

Born April 12, 1983 in Croatia, which was then part of the former Yugoslavia, Jelena Dokic once played tennis with the likes of Martina Hingis, Monica Seles, Jennifer Capriati, and both Venus and Serena Williams. But her earliest days in Osijek, Croatia, didn’t lend a hint to the fame and fortune she would eventually attain.

Jelena Dokic’s mother is from Croatia; her father was born in Croatia, but was of Serbian descent. She was an only child until 1991, when her mother gave birth to her beloved brother, Savo. From the very beginning, Jelena adored her brother and saw herself as his protector. His birth was at the time when the Iron Curtain was falling apart, and that included Jelena’s homeland, Yugoslavia, which was really just a conglomeration of different states with different languages and cultures cobbled together.

One day, when Jelena was still very young, she and her father, Damir Dokic, were in a rowboat fishing, when they saw a body floating past. As Yugoslavia was breaking up, people from the different countries were fighting among themselves. Murders were increasingly common as the area became a war zone. The obstetrician who delivered both Jelena and her brother was murdered, prompting the family to temporarily move to Serbia. There, Jelena had to learn the Serbian language as the civil unrest and ethnic and religion based violence continued.

During those early years, Jelena’s father got the idea to see if his daughter could play tennis. Boy, could she… Jelena was a natural talent. From the age of six, she showed everyone that she was born for the game. Reluctant coaches in Serbia didn’t think she could hang with the bigger girls, but she soon proved herself a formidable player. Before she’d hit puberty, Jelena had launched what would turn into a lucrative career.

Enter “Daddy Dearest”…

Besides dealing with the violence of war and the upheaval of moving from Croatia to Serbia, Jelena’s family was poor. For some time, Jelena, her mother, and brother lived in a garden shack owned by relatives. It was rat infested and freezing cold. Meanwhile, her father and other relatives were in Croatia. Jelena’s dad, Damir, came back when it became clear that his daughter had the potential to go far in the tennis world.

The family eventually immigrated to Australia, where Jelena rose in the ranks to become a great tennis player. But she would inspire jealousy among other Aussie tennis players, who weren’t a match for her. Her entire life revolved around winning tennis matches and making money for her abusive father. Jelena’s mother, beaten down by years of abuse, aided and abetted Damir’s tyrannical behavior.

Damir Dokic had a tragically effective way of “motivating” Jelena to succeed. He drove her to train constantly, berated her, called her vile, filthy names, and when she didn’t win on the tennis court, beat her with his leather belt. Damir was also a severe alcoholic with a weakness for white wine and whiskey. He would show up to Jelena’s games rip roaring drunk, screaming at her from the sidelines. Jelena was treated like a commodity. She wasn’t allowed to have friends, and her abusive father would threaten and humiliate her constantly, even when she did well.

Still, in spite of being called names like “whore” and “cow”, and even though her father would regularly terrorize Jelena, and tell her she was a disgrace, the young tennis phenom consistently rose to the occasion. At the pinnacle of her tennis career, Jelena Dokic was ranked number four in the world. For awhile, she was unstoppable, although her father never praised Jelena for her achievements.

But sadly, before Jelena was even twenty-one years old, it all began to unravel. She went through many coaches, endured a narcissistic boyfriend, and through it all, had to face her terrifying father, who leveraged Jelena’s access to her mother and brother to get what he wanted… which was basically ALL of her money and complete control over her career.

A familiar story, yet still shocking…

As I read Jelena Dokic’s story, I was reminded of several other stories of extremely talented and successful people. A couple of years ago, I wrote a review of a book written by Verona van de Leur, a former elite gymnast from The Netherlands who eventually went to prison and then became a porn star. Like Jelena Dokic, Verona was expected to perform and achieve in her sport, mainly because her parents were leeching money from her.

I don’t believe Verona van de Leur ever made as much money as Jelena Dokic did, as Jelena’s father eventually built a mansion with Jelena’s earnings, complete with a wine cellar and stables. He made her agree to keep sending him payments of $200,000, as well as most of her other earnings. Jelena’s father also forced her to sign over her rights to a house paid for with money she won. Naturally, she was also expected to pay the taxes on her winnings, which she soon couldn’t do as she stopped winning. Not winning meant making much less money playing tennis.

I was also reminded of Dominique Moceanu, an American former elite gymnast of Romanian descent, whose father abused her in order to motivate her to achieve. I remember how adorable Dominique was in the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. I didn’t know, at that time, the price she was paying to be at the top of her game in gymnastics. I read and reviewed Dominique’s book, too.

Finally, Jelena’s crazy abuse story reminded a bit of Tina Turner, and her story of being mentored by her ex husband, the late Ike Turner. Although Tina is known for being a great singer, she shared the same tragic fate as Jelena, Verona, and Dominique did. All of these incredibly gifted and talented women basically served as “golden geese” for abusive men who exploited and terrorized them to get money and power from them.

Frustrating…

As compelling as Unbreakable is, I have to admit, I found it a frustrating read. Jelena Dokic was caught in a terrible abuse cycle. Over and over again, her father would abuse her in almost every way. He would make her run for miles after exhausting tennis matches or in extreme heat. He would verbally abuse her and terrorize her. Or he would beat her up, kick her with his pointy toed dress shoes, or whip her with his belt. When she became an adult, she would say “enough” and try to leave. But he’d always manage to talk her into coming back for more abuse.

Ditto to other abusers in Jelena’s life. She had a tennis coach who took advantage of her. He wasn’t very experienced in the game, but he was manipulative. More than once, Jelena tried to get rid of him, only to take him back later. She had an abusive, controlling boyfriend of the same ilk who was hard to shake.

On a conscious level, I understand that Jelena was trapped in a cycle of abuse. She was coping the only way she knew how. She didn’t have much help from other people, even though some had seen evidence of her father’s telltale abuse. Jelena was a valuable commodity to a lot of men, and I guess it was easier to allow the blatant terrorism to continue, rather than do something about it. I have had experience with an abusive alcoholic father myself, so I do have an inkling of what Jelena was facing. My dad wasn’t as bad as Jelena’s dad is, either. But still, it was frustrating to read about this very talented and successful woman being horrifically abused, and nothing being done about it. It’s pretty shameful, actually. Fortunately, the story ends well.

Jelena Dokic makes a comeback.

Overall

I think Jessica Halloran did a fine job writing this book. It’s in the historical present tense, which is kind of different. I never got the sense that I wasn’t reading this book from the source, though, which is a good thing. There are some photos included, too.

Like I mentioned up post, I don’t really follow tennis at all. I’m not into sports. But I could relate to and empathize with Jelena Dokic’s story in Unbreakable. It sounds like she’s gotten her life back on track, as she now works as a tennis coach and motivational speaker in Australia. Jelena’s story is horrific at times, but ultimately, she’s triumphed.

Yes, it took a long time for Jelena Dokic to get to where she is… and that may frustrate some readers, who will see her making the same mistakes repeatedly. I notice some comments on Amazon are about how Jelena didn’t ask for help and/or denied the abuse, and the stories of abuse became “tedious” and “repetitive”.

I think it’s helpful to remember that people who are caught up in abuse don’t have the benefit of clarity. They have been conditioned to accept bad treatment from their abusers, who isolate them and swear them to secrecy by using shame, violence, and fear for other loved ones. In Jelena’s case, it was her beloved brother who served as a bargaining chip. If she didn’t cooperate with her father, she would lose contact with Savo. When abuse victims are in that kind of a bind, it can be especially difficult to break free from tyranny. Yes, it’s frustrating to watch obvious abuse when it happens, but getting away from abuse and “stepping out of the F.O.G.” is legitimately hard.

In any case, I think Unbreakable is worth reading. I’d give it four stars out of five.

As an Amazon Associate, I get a small commission from Amazon on sales made through my site.

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athletes, mental health, rants

The Olympic Games are not just about winning medals, Joe…

Yesterday, it was in the news that super talented American gymnast, Simone Biles, has decided to attempt her balance beam routine. I was glad to hear the news, not so much because I’m concerned about the gymnasts winning another gold medal, but because I think it would be important to Simone’s morale if she competed. Of course, if she had decided NOT to compete, I’d be okay with that, too. I think the decision to compete or NOT compete, is entirely up to Simone Biles. She’s the one who has put in the blood, sweat, and tears to get to where she is. And she and her parents (or grandparents) have certainly made financial and personal sacrifices for her to be able to perform at the level that she does. She doesn’t owe America a thing, as far as I’m concerned.

In 2016, Simone Biles went to Rio de Janeiro and won four gold medals and a bronze in women’s gymnastics. She’s four years older now, and at age 24, is quite seasoned for a gymnast. I think it’s amazing that she still competes at all, let alone at the Olympic level. And she has been performing at a level that is unattainable by the vast majority of humans, even though she’s no longer as young as most of them are when they reach the pinnacle of their careers. Simone Biles is the very picture of a winner on many levels.

But to see some of the shittiness leveled at Simone Biles since her decision to withdraw from most of the Olympic events in 2021, you’d think she was a national disgrace! I notice a lot of the comments come from white, conservative males who probably get winded climbing a flight of stairs and are only capable of winning beer guzzling contests. These self-important pricks have the nerve to criticize Simone for putting her needs first and taking care of herself. I’ll bet that if Simone had competed and hurt herself, these same guys would have no sympathy for her and would call her a “loser” for that, too.

Last night, I came across a comment thread on Facebook involving a mansplainer named Joe… Here’s what Joe has to say about Simone Biles and the idea that her decision to withdraw may help “transform sports”.

Quitting is not transforming.

Plenty of people responded to Joe. One lady wrote this:

Thanks for weighing in from the couch. I’m sure Simone will be so grateful for your helpful opinion.

Joe came back with this comment.

Her example let down the team. Understandable for her but certainly not positive for the team.

More people responded, including yours truly. I wrote this:

By not performing when she wasn’t well, she serves as a positive role model to others who might feel like they have to perform when they aren’t well.

I would rather see Simone and other athletes withdraw from competition than have accidents that kill or paralyze them. No medal is worth that.

And Joe, who seemed to be gleefully arguing with all comers wrote,

Letting down your team is not positive no matter what the reason. Understandable but not positive.

I thought about Joe’s comment for a moment, and responded thusly:

They did just fine without her, Joe. Another American won the all around. Another American won gold in floor exercise. Another American won silver on vault. Another American won bronze on the uneven parallel bars.

It turns out they didn’t need Simone, and if she had gotten hurt or killed, that would have put quite a damper on things, don’t you think? Wouldn’t she have let down her teammates by forcing them to witness a potential horror show? No one is 100% all the time. Not even Simone Biles.

And she was there to cheer them on, too, which I am sure was very helpful in these weird times of performing with no roar of the crowd.

Kindly pull your head out of your ass. The Olympic Games are not just about winning gold medals, nor should they be.

I stand by that comment. A lot of people are focused only on winning at the Games, but not everyone can win a medal. If the Games were just about winning medals, why would countries that have little chance of winning anything send their athletes? Why would they bother having opening and closing ceremonies, complete with the Olympic torch being carried? Why have people give speeches and musicians and dancers perform? Why speak about sportsmanship or friendship or competition?

The Games are, in part, about making money, promoting politics, and selling books, music, and movies, and that’s a fact. But there are also many stories that come out of the Olympics, and not just about people who win medals. There’s a human interest aspect to the Games that is important. Watching the Games and learning the stories of its participants is one way for the people of the world to learn about other countries and cultures.

Olympic Belarusian sprinter, Kristina Timanovskaya, is currently in the news because she criticized her coaches and she claims her safety was threatened. Belarus has been in the news lately because its leader, President Aleksandr Lukashenko, who’s been in power since 1994, has a habit of jailing people who criticize the government. In May, Belarusian authorities, under Lukashenko’s direction, forced a Ryanair plane bound for Vilnius, Lithuania, to land in Belarus. This was so that one of the passengers, Belarusian Roman Protasevich, could be arrested and jailed for criticizing the Belarusian government. Timanovskaya no doubt knows what could happen to her if she goes back to her homeland. She just got political asylum from Poland.

That’s just one example of a human interest story from the Tokyo Games. There have been so many others over the years, particularly during the Cold War era. When I was growing up, I remember watching beautiful figure skaters and gymnasts from the former Soviet Union. I always marveled at their talents, and curiously caught a glimpse of people from a place where Americans were, at that time, mostly forbidden to go. A few years later, when I did move to the former Soviet Union, I remembered those athletes and some of their stories. Although none of the athletes I remembered were from Armenia, where I went to live, they still somehow made me feel a connection to a place that was once Soviet.

I remember looking up flags and finding places on maps as I watched the Games and a particular athlete caught my eye. Those explorations always led to learning about other places and piqued my wonder about the world. Although I’ve never been one for watching most sports, the Olympics were always different to me. As someone who loves to hear and tell stories, I always enjoyed the stories that inevitably came from the Games.

Even if some people think that Games should solely be about winning, I think that’s the wrong attitude to take. They should be about athletes doing their best, making friends, and being good sports. I think Simone Biles and other athletes who have put their needs and well-being ahead of winning medals should be commended. Being allowed to compete at the Olympic Games is a real honor, and one that Biles proved she deserved. But no medal is worth losing someone’s health or life.

As we’ve seen in the recent women’s gymnastics scandals involving sexual, physical, emotional, and mental abuses, the relentless focus on winning is both unhealthy and unwise. So many women gymnasts were so terrified to speak up for themselves that Larry Nassar got away with sexually abusing hundreds of them in the name of providing “medical care”. And I’m sure I don’t need to get into the many stories of gymnasts who have tragically permanently injured or killed themselves trying to become Olympic legends. I recently covered that subject quite extensively.

I’m sure that Biles’ teammates worried that they wouldn’t do as well without the so-called G.O.A.T.’s performance. But, as it turned out, they did just fine without her, and the United States has had an excellent showing in the women’s gymnastics competition. Moreover, two young women now have had the chance to be gold medalists. Had Biles been on her game, they might not have had that opportunity. They did themselves and the United States proud, and we should be celebrating their amazing accomplishments, not criticizing Biles’ brave decision to take care of herself.

It wasn’t so long ago that U.S. women’s gymnastics weren’t all that impressive, but a U.S. woman has won the gymnastics all around at every Olympic Games since 2004. Thanks to Suni Lee’s awesome all around performance, that’s still true in 2021, even without Simone Biles. And Jade Carey won the floor exercise gold, too. MyKayla Skinner won silver on the vault, and Lee won a bronze on the uneven parallel bars… These young women are also champions, and they had a great chance to show everyone that. But even if they hadn’t won a single medal, they still have the extremely rare honor of being Olympians. No one can ever take that away from them.

I wish Simone Biles all the luck as she performs on the balance beam. I, for one, am proud of her for sharing the limelight, and for making sure she survives her years as a gymnast in one piece. I’m sure she has had many injuries over the years, some of which will always plague her. But she’s likely to be able to walk away from the Tokyo Olympics with her head held high, rather than rolled out on a stretcher because she had an accident. We can’t put a price on that.

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athletes, celebrities, mental health, psychology, tragedies, YouTube

Partial repost: Christy Henrich and Karen Carpenter, and discovering Dr. Todd Grande…

Recently, I watched a video done about Karen Carpenter by YouTube shrink, Dr. Todd Grande. Dr. Grande does videos about mental health topics in a trademark “flat” kind of way. When I first encountered him on YouTube, I didn’t like his videos that much because his delivery was so dry. But I kept coming back, because he chose interesting topics. After awhile, I realized that I enjoy his videos and even his “flat” style… especially when he throws shade in kind of a bland way. In the video he made about Karen Carpenter, Dr. Grande remarked that in terms of her musical talent, Karen was “like a Ferrari stuck on a go cart track”. He implied that she was much more talented than her brother, Richard, is. I got a kick out of that observation.

Karen Carpenter… Dr. Grande implies that her wings were clipped by her brother… Frankly, I think her mother was more of a wing clipper.

Personally, I disagree with Dr. Grande that Karen’s talent was that much more impressive than Richard’s is. They had strengths in different areas. Richard is a fantastic pianist, and he’s a great arranger. He knew what songs went best with Karen’s vocals. Karen was a magnificent singer and drummer. Together, they worked well. Both of them worked apart with somewhat less success. I do think that Karen and Richard had a very controlling mother, and personally, I think if anyone should be blamed for what happened to Karen Carpenter, it could be her mom that deserves the most shade. Agnes Carpenter was overbearing and overreaching… and she didn’t want her children to be independent adults. Moreover, she obviously favored Richard, which probably took a toll on Karen’s self esteem. Maybe that had to do with her development of anorexia nervosa. I don’t know.

Anyway… I enjoyed watching Dr. Grande’s video about Karen Carpenter and realized he’d done a bunch of similar videos about other celebrities. It occurred to me that it would be interesting to hear his thoughts on Christy Henrich, a brilliant 80s era gymnast who famously perished from anorexia nervosa in 1994. So I left him a comment. Maybe he’ll read and heed it. I really think it would be interesting to hear Dr. Todd Grande’s deadpan views about Christy’s public struggle with anorexia. She had a tremendous work ethic, which extended to her illness. At one point, Christy’s weight fell to 47 pounds. It’s not that I admire her for being that emaciated. It’s more of a comment on her sheer will power and relentless pursuit of her goals, self-destructive as they were. I’m sure a mental health expert would have a lot to say about her.

A video a YouTuber made about Christy Henrich.

In the meantime, below is a repost of an article I wrote in February 2014 about Christy Henrich for my original blog. It was inspired because Bill and I went on a “hop” to Spain and Portugal in January of that year. On the way back to Texas, we landed in Missouri and drove through Christy’s hometown of Independence, Missouri. I thought of her as I realized how much Missouri reminds me of Virginia. As usual, the repost appears “as/is”.

Remembering Christy Henrich

Back in the late 1980s, I had a brief but intense obsession with watching gymnastics.  I would catch meets on ESPN or Home Team Sports.  In those days, ESPN only had one channel and I believe HTS is now defunct.  I remember seeing very old footage of Shannon Miller when she was just 12 years old.  I remember watching Brandy Johnson and Phoebe Mills.  I could never so much as turn a cartwheel myself, but I really enjoyed watching the tiny girls compete.  I admired them for being so tough and strong.  I was into horses myself, though.

I also remember Christy Henrich, who was less than a month younger than me.  When I first saw her, she reminded me a bit of a soccer player.  Short and muscular without an ounce of fat on her, she didn’t have the long, graceful limbs of the Russian or Romanian gymnasts.  But she was very strong and had an amazing work ethic.  Her coach, Al Fong, even called her E.T. for extra tough. Sometimes, that extra tough work ethic worked against her, as you can see in the video below.

This may have even been the first meet I ever saw Christy in… This performance was not very good. The commentators say she “looks tired” and “doesn’t look right”. They also mention that she was warming up way before everyone else was.

Not being privy to anything going on in gymnastics that wasn’t aired on TV, I didn’t know about Christy Henrich’s eventual slide into anorexia nervosa and bulimia.  Back in those days, I had a bit of an obsession about eating disorders, too.  I knew a lot about them and even flirted with them.  If I had known about Christy, I might have even admired her for her anorexia.  That’s how dumb I was at 16.

Christy Henrich at 17

I remember watching the very intense 1988 Summer Olympics gymnastics trials.  I was kind of rooting for Kristie Phillips, an adorable strawberry blonde who had seemed poised for gymnastics stardom.  A growth spurt and weight gain had sidelined her in 1987 and she was back to try to win a spot on the team.  She placed 8th and was named a second alternate.  She would not be going to Seoul unless someone got hurt.  Christy Henrich missed the team altogether by .0118 of a point.  There was no hope for her at all, unless she set her sights on 1992 in Barcelona.

About Kristie Phillips, who also suffered from an eating disorder.
Kristie Phillips was on Oprah, along with Christy’s mom and boyfriend. Here, she talks about her suicidal ideation after she missed the Olympic team.

In 1990, a judge supposedly told Christy Henrich after a meet in Budapest, Hungary that in order to be a serious contender for the Olympics, she would need to lose weight.  At 4’11” and 93 pounds, Christy didn’t have much weight to lose.  But she took the judge’s words to heart and went on a serious diet, quickly shedding five pounds.  She was praised for the weight loss at first, but then she slid headlong into a battle that would eventually cost her her life.

Christy Henrich in 1990

By January 1991, she had lost so much weight that her coach, Al Fong, kicked her out of the gym.  A week after he kicked her out, she came in to tell him she was quitting the sport.  Though she had a loving family and a boyfriend who wanted to marry her, the eating disorders had taken hold of her.  On July 26, 1994, she died of multiple organ failure.  She had just turned 22 years old and she weighed less than 60 pounds.  At one point, her weight was just 47 pounds.

A clip from a 1995 episode of Oprah in which Christy’s mother and boyfriend talk about her struggles with eating disorders.  

I remember reading Joan Ryan’s book, Little Girls in Pretty Boxes.  In fact, I read an excerpt of it in the Washington Post just days before I left the country for Armenia to serve in the Peace Corps.  When I got home in 1997, I bought the book and read it.  It was about female gymnasts and figure skaters.  In 2000, Ryan updated the book, including discussion about Dominique Moceanu’s desire to be emancipated from her parents because her father was spending her money. 

I don’t know what made me think of Christy today.  It’s not her birthday or the anniversary of her death, though in July of this year, she will have been dead for 20 years.  That amazes me.  It seems like yesterday, we were 22 years old.  The older you get, the faster time flies.

Last month, as Bill and I worked our way back to Texas from our trip abroad, we drove through Christy’s hometown of Independence, Missouri.  We stayed a night in Kansas City, which is where Christy died.  For some reason, I even thought about Christy’s mother as we passed through.  It was frigid during our brief time there and, looking around, it didn’t look like the kind of place that would excite me.  On the other hand, I did notice how nice and folksy everyone seemed to be.  It seems like the kind of place you could get to know your neighbors.

Christy Henrich in 1987.

I’m sure that the last twenty years have been tough for all who knew and loved Christy Henrich.  What happened to her was just gruesome.  I still like watching gymnastics today, but remember Christy’s story reminds me that the sport has a bit of a dark side.  To read more about Christy Henrich, I recommend the book Little Girls in Pretty Boxes.  

An eye opening read.

Edited to add: in 2014, I still had no idea how dark gymnastics can be… that was before we knew about John Geddert and Larry Nassar.

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