Sovetsky Sport. February 4, 1990. I turned the letter over in my hands. Then, with her permission, I read it. A fan from Estonia begged her for an autograph. It was 1990. Almost twenty-two years had passed since she had carried the gymnastics team to first place at the Olympic Games in Mexico City, and seventeen since we had any official information about her.
One can write about Zinaida Voronina at least because she is an Olympic champion. Anyone who has ever come close to the platform knows what titanic work is required even to become "simply" a master of sports. What can we say about an Olympic medal?
But we must write about Zinaida Voronina for another reason. There were terrible days in her life, when an alcoholic fog clouded her eyes. But this fragile woman managed to rise above herself, to conquer herself. And this, I think, is no easier than victories in the most important competitions.
Finding Vorinina turned out to be a difficult task. Zinaida did not show up for our scheduled meeting at the Balashikha Foundry and Mechanical Plant, where she now works, and when I showed up at her house, ten minutes later, she asked: 'Can we please reschedule everyting? I am not ready right now.' The next day came and I, worried, went to see her.
"Zina, why don't you like us journalists?"
"That's not the point. I was terribly ashamed. After all, as they say - in gymnastics there are only two good-for-nothings: Voronina and Lazakovich. So I was afraid, would you believe me, would you talk to me like a human being. But now I'm not afraid. Ask."
To tell the truth, it was not an interview in its purest form. I asked about something and Zina asked about her teammates - her heart yearning for them and for her joyful sporting youth. And so, clinging word for word, the woman's conversation about her difficult, wild life faded away.
"Less than a year had passed since the Olympics in Mexico City, and I was waiting for Dimka. Two weeks after giving birth, I ironed my leotard, slippers, and went to training. Of course, they were waiting for me. Nobody thought that I would be able to show results quickly. But four months later I was already competing at the USSR championships and took second place there. I returned to the national team again. Then I went to Ljubljana. It was 1970. There, the young Lyuda Turischeva beat me in the all-around event. I came in third. By the way, I always admired her. She had an amazing work ethic. Her coach told her: "Ten approaches." That's how she did everything. For me, everything was easier - I got it on the second or third try. I was happy with the victories and the attention of the spectators. I loved sports, but not fanatically. Not like Lyuda. It's now, when I look at medals or at how gymnasts go out on the platform, my heart trembles. But then, people I loved - my husband and friends - were in first place. It turned out later that they weren't friends, but at the time I was young and stupid."
"Oh, well. After Ljubljana Olga Karaseva and I were preparing for the Olympics in Munich. Everything was fine, we made the team, but there was one condition - the final tryouts had to be done without falls. And, of course, we fell. I did go to Munich, but as part of a tour group from the Central Committee of the Komsomol. After the Olympic Games, I felt that young Lazakovich and Korbut were passing us. There's nothing to say about Turischeva. She trained a little more, but without the same enthusiasm. And gradually I left. I was 27. I tried to work as a coach but it didn't work out. Well, off we go. I split up with my husband basically because of my pride. Then I regretted it. Well, that's all."
"Why didn't you succeed as a coach?"
"I am impatient. The girls immediately did what I said. And when they couldn't do it, I got nervous and irritated. I should have worked with a group of masters as a choreographer - I had a high level and I could teach them a lot. But they put me with a group and I couldn't deal with the little ones."
"But you loved gymnastics..."
"I loved to train and compete. Or maybe I'm not a coach by vocation? And my love for gymnastics has nothing to do with it? I always said that after I finished competing, I would become a simple worker. And that's how it turned out."
"Zina, aren't you upset?"
"What? That I'm just a working woman? No. Something else is upsetting. I gave everything I could to sport. Did anyone remember me afterwards? Did anyone need me? Nobody asked how I felt, how I was living. And when I went to the Sports Committee, they told me: 'Zina, you're an adult now. Go on your own.' And my life was oh so difficult. But in my life, I really only have myself to blame."
"Now they give Olympic pensions..."
"It's not the money I need! I'll earn the money myself. I work hard every shift, and I get paid well. And I'll have a big pension - 132 rubles. You see, back then I wanted simple human attention, a kind word. But now, okay. I've retired from sports and let them forget me. Sometimes I don't even want anyone to know that I'm an Olympic champion. Recently, I was walking down the street and there was an old granny standing there - she was afraid to cross. I went up to help her, and she said to me: 'Zina?! Druzhinina?!' She was ccrying and I was crying - memories came flooding back."
"Would you like to see your teammates now?"
"Of couse! Olechka Karaseva, and Larisa Petrik and Natasha Kuchinskaya. But... No, I'm afraid. What if they don't believe me, don't understand that my life has become normal. And it's a shame. They are all well-organized, they work well. And I went through so much before I learned to live like a human being. Although...I really wanted to! It seems like before we used to quarrel and get upset with each other. But only now I realized what a friendly team we had."
"What kind of job do you have now?"
"I'm a farmer. During casting, soil must be fed into a mold. This is the process I monitor. In principle, the work is not difficult. Press your buttons and that's it. But if you're careless, the earth will crumble, and then you have to move it with a shovel. Sometimes the whole machine."
"But this is not for a woman!"
"Yes, I am resilient. I can carry heavy bales on my back. It's easier."
"Are you satisfied?"
"In general, yes. Although... We have a large sports complex at the plant. There is also gymnastics there. I would like to gather a group, even the most untalented ones. To train. I want to be closer to sports, to gymnastics."
"Zina, could the past - not the sports one, but something else - come back?"
"No! No way! It was some kind of obsession. Now it's gone. That's it."
I turned the letter over in my hands. Then, with her permission, I read it. The fan from Estonia remembered Zina Voronina after all these years. And we forgot her, leaving her alone with misfortune. She overcame it alone. Alone. Without our help. I believe that Zina still has everything ahead of her. I believe that she will overcome her fears and with her head held high will enter the Olympiisky sports complex in the spring for the Moscow News tournament. All her friends will gather there. And she has nothing to be ashamed of and something to be proud of. Life continues.
N. KALUGINA