Gymnastics is the kind of thing that sucks you in, chews you up and spits you out.
As a mommy spectator of the sport, you’re either the type that can’t watch, cowering behind crossed fingers while your young gymnast competes, or the type that can’t look away, glued to the edge of the bleachers, waiting for a trainwreck. Either way, every parent knows that taking the tiniest breath could knock their gymnast right over.
Because gymnastics is unpredictable. No matter how hard or how much you practice, mistakes are inevitable. Falls happen. Wobbles, bobbles and wiggles are all a part of the game.
But unlike other sports where scoring is black and white (either you got the points or you didn’t), gymnastics is subjective. Points are awarded through the eyes of the judges.
And that’s where watching gets tough. It’s not just the holding your breath, hoping for the best, but the waiting for scores that may or may not feel just.
Sometimes the scores come in high and you thank your lucky stars the judge was lenient on all the little things. And other times, your gymnast performs as good as you’ve ever seen and the scores are lower than she’s ever gotten.
That right there is where being a part of the sport gets tough. When you’re looking into the teary eyes of your child who expects you to have all the answers.
Why were her scores so low? Why, when she’s been working so hard, did those judges not see how far she’s come? What made the girls from that other gym score soooooo much higher? Why doesn’t she ever get 1st? or 2nd? or 3rd place?
And not having the answers is like a punch to the gut. So you tell her the truth: you’ve never seen her perform better. She was tight, she was strong, she hit all her skills. She listened to her coaches, she took their corrections (and even some of yours!) and, really, the numbers and medals don’t matter.
But a little part of you still feels a little bit like it’s all a lie. She *did* do her best. She has improved. And the scores really don’t matter but, damn, it would be nice to see her tiny little feet above the 1 for once instead of everyone else’s.
