“Alina, did you ask the hoop why it let you down?” Why did it jump out of your hands?
There are some things you don’t understand immediately, - you think about them, turn them over again in your mind, analyze them, and after a while you begin to realize what happened. There were problems all the way through the Sydney Games: the training sessions were very hard, there were lots of setbacks, things went wrong and didn’t work out. You know, I even dreamt about the hoop flying out of my hands, but I only remembered that dream after it had all happened…
When Mum phoned me I wept in the way that people probably weep over the ruins of their home. I couldn’t care less whether anyone could see me at that moment or not. Everything was so hopeless, I didn’t know what to do. I just kept thinking “How could this have happened? It should never have happened”! But it did. Obviously I wasn’t destined to give up professional sport just then. Because if I’d won those Olympics, I’d definitely have given up. I’d simply have lost interest.
This was a very difficult championship for me, because I hadn’t performed for 18 months (after the disqualification). It was actually one of my first competitions after such a long break. And everyone understood that they were competing for a place in the 2004 Olympics. Some of the training sessions were in front of judges, and to be honest, I didn’t perform too well. They came over to speak to Irina Viner and asked her how she could consider recommending me for the Olympics. Perhaps, they said, it would be better to choose some other girl? The training sessions were hard in every respect, and my knee was killing me. But you know, I was given so much support by the spectators that I not only forgot the pain, I simply flew over the mat, performed absolutely perfectly and won the world championship. Despite the fact that Bessonova and Chaschina were in excellent form. But they made mistakes – it can happen to anyone in sport.
I remember getting ready to go out for my last performance with the ribbon. The fans had split into two groups: one group was chanting my name, and the other (fans from Ukraine) were supporting Bessonova. I was standing close to the Ukrainian fans and saw how hard they were trying, but the louder they shouted, the more calm and collected I became. “OK, then”, I thought, “I’ll give you Bessonova”. They just didn’t know me. And it’s a good thing too, because at that moment in time nobody could have lifted my fighting spirits as well as the fans from Ukraine. If I’d been standing closer to my own fans I would have worried more about things going wrong. But it was as if any depressing thoughts had been swept away by the wind and I gave a simply brilliant performance. A big thank you to them!
Victory in Budapest was a good boost to me. It helped me get over all my doubts and worries - both about the disqualification and about having competed for such a long time without winning the Olympics…After Budapest I left those doubts behind and began preparing for the Athens Olympics with renewed energy.
I always used to worry and get flustered before each competition, but I never let it show, of course. From the outside it probably seemed as if I was unconcerned, that everything was fine and I was all smiles. But you can’t imagine what was going on inside me at those moments.
And I always carried the thought that I mustn’t lose. Not in the sense that Alina Kabaeva had to be No.1 and only No.1. I just realized that I couldn’t let people down…I couldn’t disappoint my Mum and my trainer and all the people who had done so much for me and to help me win. If I were to lose, I’d be ashamed to go back to Russia. I couldn’t imagine how I would look into the eyes of the people who supported me. And if Russia were to lose as well because of me, it would be the most horrific disgrace. I always suffered a lot when I lost.
Another reason I remember my first European championship is because they worked the hind legs off me. I was little and did everything my trainer told me to. The grown-up gymnasts could say they were tired and their training sessions were over because they had to compete the next day. And they would just leave. But I had to keep training, and Irina Alexandrovna would keep me at it right up to the last possible moment. I got so tired that I just couldn’t image how I was going to perform in the evening. Yet I performed well and became European champion.
As a result, those training sessions gave me the technical foundation that was so very valuable when I became a professional, a grown-up gymnast. As they say in music, I could “play from sight” any combination of movements my trainer might throw at me. I’d developed a perfect technique for performing the most complicated elements in rhythmic gymnastics – you could wake me up at 3 in the morning and say “Alina, you need to do this and that”, and I’d do it.
I remember when the games were over I asked the choreographer how well I’d done, and she said “Listen Alina. I don’t know for sure, but I think you’re definitely in the top five or six”. Can you imagine it? It was my first adult European championship! Not a junior competition, but real games with Olympic champions taking part. All the big names in gymnastics! The team leader was Yana Batyrshina. There was nobody better than her at that time, and everyone was sure she would be the winner. But she made a serious mistake. She was upset, of course, but by then she had already been world champion in some individual events. And suddenly this 15 year-old girl comes out, performs everything faultlessly and becomes European champion! Nobody could believe it.
Quite a lot of time has passed since I started winning competitions – first youth games, then adult games. I’ll hardly be able to tell you everything that happened at each of these competitions straight away, because some things just don’t come to mind immediately. So I’m going to fill out the sports section gradually.
Incidentally, if any of my readers have kept any publications, internet reports, photos, or newspapers with articles on games in which I took part, I’d be really pleased if you could give me the opportunity to post them on the website.
The first event at the Athens Games was the hoop. Before I went out the journalists pestered the life out of me with questions like “How about the hoop? Are you not afraid to perform with it?” or “At the last Olympics you lost hold of it – will it happen again this time”, and so on and so forth. Nice questions, eh? Very helpful! So anyway, psychologically speaking, it was very hard, but everything went well and the hoop didn’t let me down. There were some tense moments with the ribbon, however. The ribbon routine is the last event and a very important one. It was hard to perform because of the high humidity, and the air conditioners were on full blast, so the ribbon could have got tangled up at any moment, which is what happened to Irina Chaschina. I had two or three dangerous moments, but I kept a very close watch on the end of the ribbon. When you keep a close watch on it and work with it properly (there are some special techniques you can use) you can control that ribbon even in a strong wind.
The Athens Games were very difficult for me. I felt they might be my last, and that if I lost fate would probably never give me another chance. It would have been very difficult for me to train for another Olympic Games. All those years since Sydney, after my disqualification, I was so tired, so devastated, that I just wouldn’t have had the strength – neither psychological nor physical – to go on without a win, without proving to myself and those around me what I was capable of. After my final performance I ran along the corridor and was simply happy that it was all over at last. At that point I didn’t yet know whether I would be Olympic champion, but I knew for sure that I had performed well!
It was at the Sydney Olympics that I first found out what it means to lose. It was a real blow to me. On my way to the games I already felt as if I was the winner, because I’d been winning all the time up until then. To this day, it’s hard to understand why things happened the way they did. Obviously I wasn’t prepared psychologically to compete at that level…My mistake was so silly and childish. It was just like a dream - I looked on as the hoop broke free of my hands and simply couldn’t believe what was happening.
Now I know for sure that everything always works out for the best. And what happened there at the Sydney Olympics in Sydney was actually a gift from heaven. If I’d won those Olympics I might have given up sport. Moreover, that defeat made me think about my life. I reassessed a lot of things and many things became clear. And one of those things was that you definitely have to work hard, to work towards your objective, but at the same time remember that not everything in this life depends on us alone…It’s probably not so bad that everything happened the way it did: I stuck with gymnastics and went on to become Olympic champion anyway.
At the 1998 championship I took first place in the individual all-round event, becoming overall European champion for the first time.
It was an unexpected victory, of course, but definitely no accident. By that time I had already won several prizes at junior competitions, but I wasn’t counting on winning an adult competition. All the top gymnasts were at that championship in Lisbon, including four Russian girls: Zaripova, Batyrshina, me and Chaschina. We took third place in the team event. Nobody suspected that I might win. Irina Alexandrovna later told me that she had wondered whether they would give me a real score or not. She decided they wouldn’t because I was too young, despite the fact that I was performing better than everyone else…But actually, they did give me a real score. I should say, however, that I was always just one hundredth of a point ahead of my good friend Zhenya Pavlina from Belorussia. I phoned Mum to tell her I’d won the European championship and she couldn’t believe it. “What do you mean, you’ve won? It’s impossible. You’re only in fourth or fifth place?” I told her she’d been watching some out-of-date reports, and she started crying into the phone. Nobody expected it. And of course I was simply delighted. It was my first big win. And in 1999, I took first place overall in the world championship.
Sport filled my whole life for many long years. It was my work, my joy, my hobby, my family, my friends, all my emotions and feelings, the air that I breathed and the element in which I lived. Sure, it required iron discipline and an ability to control my wishes, but in return I got freedom! Freedom from my own laziness, empty ambitions and falseness. Sport taught me to take decisions, to live in the here and now, and not to give up on my objectives…
And sport also taught me to value time and realize how important it is to fight for the prestige of my country. I’m convinced that the more people who do sport, the more beautiful and confident personalities we will have, the more interesting our society will be, and the stronger the country will be.
Now that I have new goals and ideas in my life, a new job and interests, I look back with gratitude and realize that it was true school of life. I will always do everything I can, everything within my power, to support and develop sport in our country and get more children and young people involved in it.
