Sovetsky Sport. September 30, 1989. I didn't see her - she was on the phone. This was her decision - apparently, too many hunters for "yellow journalism" had fallen on her head over the past years. But then, when this material was already complete, we nevertheless met and talked for a long time - about everything. In general, about life.
I remember her brilliant victory at the world championships in 1978 over the invincible Romanian Nadia Comaneci, I remember her beautiful "moon" somersault, like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, I remember Mukhina's unique Mukhina Loop, and it hurts to see her motionless. But first, a sweet voice was heard on the phone, reminiscent of the voices of her teammates Masha Filatova dn Natasha Shaposhnikova.
"Just let's not be sensational," Lena asked me. "I'm tired of sensationalism. I live normally, like all disabled people, and there is nothing sensational in such a life."
Indeed, Elena Mukhina's severe injury before the 1980 Moscow Olympics shocked us so much that we, probably sensing the irredeemable guilt towards this fearless girl, devoted the entire nine subsequent years to creating legends around her name. Legends are sometimes inexplicable, and sometimes true. And, perhaps, it's time to figure out what's true and what's not. After all, so many years have passed since that bright and carefree and terrible summer day when Moscow was preparing for a grandiose sports festival, and she, 20 years old, was dying on the neurosurgeon's table.
LEGEND ONE: Who is guilty?
There was a terrible heat in Moscow. We, translators who worked on the Krylatskoe Canal, had just returned from the Moscow River to our place of duty, lazily wearing our swimsuits and chatting cheerfully about something. Suddenly, there's no other word for it, the executive secretary of the "academic" rowing competition ran up to us: "Girls, the gymnasts in Minsk are in trouble! Lena Mukhina crashed. It seems to her death. But they will still contact us. Just please don't say anything to foreigners." We were left shocked in our seats. Conversations somehow died down by themselves...
At my home nine years later. Maria Filatova speaks: You understand, Mukhina is the eternal pain of our team. She didn't want to compete at the Olympics! She probably felt that something terrible was going to happen. But her coach Mikhail Klimenko insisted and even went to Moscow to try to get her into the team. Everything happened without him there. But she still seemed to be out of shape. He leg had not yet recovered from the injury. That's how it was.
"And honestly, I didn't want to be on the team."
These are the words of Elena Mukhina herself. And Klimenko knew about this. Her take-off leg was injured, and because of this her program was poorly trained.
But you were put on the morning shift during training. That is, in other words, you did not make it into the main team.
That's why Klimenko left for Moscow and I was left alone. His wife looked after me, but she was a choreographer. The senior coach of the national team, Shaniyazov, paced around. But this alone was not enough.
As for the fact that they didn't include me in the main roster, I'm grateful for that. It was very difficult mentally to train there. So at least I saved my nerves.
The opinion of a specialist who wishes to remain anonymous: When they went through Mukhina's bag, they found a strong diuretic - furomeside. As it turned out, she was "racing" everything instead of reducing it [her weight] with acceptable means - running, saunas, strict diet. It removed calcium from her bones. Because of this, she couldn't match the tempo when performing the element. The result was tragedy.
"I took furosemide. But that still doesn't mean much. If the element is ready, well "wrapped," then it can only lead to small change in amplitude in the worst case. But if the coach forces you to do an unprepared element, as happened to me, then of course anything can happen."
Opinion of a friend on the team: Who among us hasn't taken "fura"? Officially, of course, the coaches knew nothing. But when at the evening weigh-in you are told that you need to "throw off" a kilogram by morning, other problems arise, as this needs to be done in less than 19 hours. Here we are without trainers and furosemide dust. But only Mukhina was injured. I don't believe that the "fura" could have caused her injury.
Lena, did you try to explain your condition to Klimenko?
I tried, but what's the point? Mikhail Yakovlevich is an excellent technician. He can put out a unique program in two years. But when working on a program, you must not forget that you are working with a person, not a robot. You can't step over a personality in the name of a medal! But he doesn't understand this. How many times did I try to talk to him, but he didn't hear me. More precisely, it didn't bother him to hear it. Honestly, for me the relationship with him before the injury was very difficult. How it was for him - I don't know. He might not have felt it.
What about the senior coach Aman Shaniyazov? In your conversation with Ogonek you said that you "basically don't respect him," but I heard only kind words about him from other gymnasts.
Shaniyazov could have saved me by insisting that I had no place on the Olympic team. But he didn't know how to insist on anything. At that time I had the impression that he was not the team leader, but one of our personal coaches.
Ogonek didn't convey my words accurately. I don't respect Shaniyzaov not as a person - he didn't do anything bad to me as a human being - but as a leader. You see, it's painful to realize that if he had banged his fist on the table, if he had crossed me off the list of candidates with his hand then, I would have been healthy...
So, who is really to blame for what happened?
God knows. If you ask Klimenko, he will probably say that it's my own fault. You know, there's no need to share the blame. You can't bring back the past.
LEGEND TWO: Elena Mukhina and Valentin Dikul
About two years ago I had the opportunity to talk with Olympic champion Natalia Kuchinskaya: I need to go see Mukhina. I feel like a pig, but I can't pull myself together. It's scary. I don't know why she refused to study with Dikul. He would have lifted her to her feet. You can't, you know, you can't isolate yourself like that in your grief! We must look for a way out, we must live. She was offered real salvation, but she refused. Why? I can't understand!
Why did I refuse Dikul's help? I had no idea about his system, but my friends persuaded me to try it. Well, said and done. He came to me and took my measurements. Then they brought a machine for classes. I started to work. I had weak kidneys, and his system provoked an exacerbation. Although, God knows, maybe it was for the better. At least the doctors took care of my kidneys. But it all ended with two serious operations and a ban on any physical activity for six months. But I was doing it on the sly anyway. Then I had a failure, and hospitalization. And more than once I had to start from scracth. Dikul came by from time to time to give me instructions. Then... Then my muscle mass got bigger, and vertical disks started popping out. Anyway, I decided that his system wasn't right for me. Once I heard him speaking on TV, the meaning of which was the Mukhina was a lazy person and didn't want to treat herself. Although everything was said much nicer, of course. This year in the summer I randomly met Dikul in the hospital and asked why he did this to me. After all, it's not my fault that the guards didn't allow me to follow his instructions. Oh, he told me, he said, I wanted to boost your morale in this way.
LEGEND THREE. Mukhina walks!
I begin the hardest part of my story. In gymnastics, with all its conflicts, there was life, there was love. In the story with Valentin Dikul, there was a struggle for life. And what remains for her now, motionless and seriously ill? I was tempted to ask her this question but was afraid to do so. She herself walked away from the conversation, more willingly remembering the past, and involuntarily returned to it. I asked her to answer all the questions, no matter how tough they were, but I could not ask them. And yet, gradually, this theme emerged.
Usually, when asked how she lives, Lena answers: "Good." And what can she say to people who are idly interested in the story of nine years ago? Start talking about her problemsn? For what? They will pretend to sigh and run to tell their friends the continuation of the half-forgotten tragedy.
But all this "good" is fraught with so much. She lives well compared to the one who could have died. She lives well because she now finds herself in the hospital a little less often than before - her body has adapted to the disease. But the problems are countless. One problem is even eating, getting the spoon to your mouth.
They say that you can move your hands.
They're moving. I can bend at the elbow, but it's hard to straighten it. And my hands don't work. And what they said. They said a lot of things. I once read on the newspapers: "Mukhina walks." No, I can't do that. It's just that doctors, specialists in physical therapy, fixed my joints and carried me around. And the journalist sensationalized it and wrote that I could walk.
In the spring, they called me from the District Society of Disabled People and asked how I was feeling. I honestly told them that I wasn't feeling well. For some reason they were surprised.
You know what shocked me about the handicapped world? Jealousy, blackness, evil. How many times have I heard - wow, this Mukhina is fine - she gets a lot (for me, I have an industrial injury so the district social security department pays me 120 rubles, and the State Sport Committee pays up to the amount that I received in the national team. Plus, the same Committee pays for household and medical services). For her, you see, the State Sports Committee gives her a dacha in the Moscow region, a functional bed, etc., etc., but we have nothing at all. What is tearing at my soul is not of interest to these supposedly misfortune traders. That's why I try to communicate with healthy people. Otherwise, it's too hard.
Do your friends from the national team visit?
If I need them, they will visit me. In general, it's not easy for them either. All are non-Muscovites, have families and jobs. No, I often have friends who are not from sports.
And Klimenko?
He calls and comes once a year to wish me a happy birthday.
Have you changed since your injury?
I immediately felt freedom. Freedom from the dictates of the coach, freedom from everything. There was an inexplicable feeling of almost joy. Then I was faced with the realities of life. That says it all. I mean, even with some of the doctors, things didn't work out.
True, my attitude towards people has changed dramatically. I began to value human decency as a great gift. Unfortunately, it is so rare.
Now I have become somehow calmer about everything. This happened when I went through many problems alone, without anyone's help.
There were rumors that after graduating from the Physical Education Institute you became a graduate student.
They offered, but in an unobtrusive way. Teachers came to take my exams. They left somewhat impressed and decided to help me. I understood why this proposal arose, and I also understood that, leaving this apartment, a person would be plunged into the usual rhythm of life. In general, people forgot about the promise, but I didn't remind them. In general, I would like to coach, "twirl" the girls in my hands, tinker with them!
By the way, do you notice how many times you start a question with the words "they say"? You see how many rumors there are, but no one has told the truth yet.
Lena, what's in the future?
If I succeed in what I have in mind, then the future is good. Just don't force it. So many of my undertakings have ended ingloriously that I'm afraid of jinxing them. I had already begun to learn languages and do many other things, but everything was interrupted by illness. So goodbye, OK? If it works, then I'll tell you everything...
Elena Mukhina is a symbol of and eternal reproach to our gymnastics. Who is ultimately to blame for the misfortune that befell her, probably (and she is right in this) is not so important now. Nine years ago, experts looked into this and came to the conclusion that it was an accident. But for some reason I look at today's champions and think: Lord, I wish nothing happened to these girls! If only their coaches could hear and feel them!
A year after the Moscow Olympics, almost the entire women's gymnastics of 1980 said goodbye to the sport - they were so shocked by what happened to Mukhina. They left, never to return to the gym. But they still came back. They came back as coaches and judges. And the same Mukhina returned to them. I remember the words of a bright, delicate person from that team, gymnast Natalia Shaposhnikova: "You are my dear Mukha! With your courage, with your life, you made us become stronger..." And for that feeling instilled by Lena in the girls from behind the hospital wall, a deep, revential bow.
N. KALUGINA