"I would do anything for love"

Meatloaf should have added, "Or for a brownie."

Over my few years here, I've witnessed many an incident of parent-gymnast bribery:

"If you get your kip, you'll get a cell phone."

"If you do your back walkover on high beam, you can have brownies."

"If you don't cry after your bar routine, we'll go to the mall."

Does it work? Kinda sort. Would they have accomplished the skills (or not crying) anyway? Probably, eventually.

I bring this up because Coach P. is concerned about the motivation of the Level 5s, who are a potential disaster waiting to happen. He's hit the conundrum that I've experienced many a time with the older girls: if you yell, they get sad, but don't work harder. If you're encouraging, they fool around. If you're somewhere in between, nothing happens.

It might be time to break out the baking sheet.

I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation

(But I'd like the kids to be looked upon well.)

There are the coaches who embrace the judges and ask about their children. The coaches who know every judge by name and have a history. The coaches who seem to eke out that extra advantage.

Then there's us.

I don't converse with judges more than necessary. Many of them remember me from my competitive days -- they'll call me by name -- but there's not much else to say. Whenever there's an inquiry, I send in one of the male coaches so they can work their manly magic. I get nervous. Maybe that's it.

Since we started an IGC program, there have been whispers. One person heard from this person that the judges have said, Those girls are much better now. Their scores and placements reflect this.

Still. You wouldn't watch a meet and think, What's up with those scores? Those girls are getting extra tenths because of their gym name. We're not at that point. (Yet?) And is it really that desirable for the kids to get inflated scores? I say nay. But, of course, it will happen inevitably, if not to us.

In addition, the judges don't approach me to say things like, "What great routines." My friends who work at the well-known gyms say they're experienced it: judges coming up to them after the rotation or after the meet, unsolicited. I suppose that's cool. I suppose it could happen one day.

But if our kids are getting the same -- or higher -- scores than the fabled gyms, I'll happily live without the pat on the back.

hey, blog, hey!

It's been a long hot summer. At least, I think it was hot. I was in the gym for much of it. (In the AC -- YEAH!)

To borrow from Santana's "Maria, Maria," the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. Which is to say that the girls who came to practice regularly (who were, for the most part, already our better girls) have continued to improve. And those who didn't show up for the entire summer, or one day a week, didn't exactly accomplish anything.

I was pleased by the discipline the kids displayed, especially our older kids. They were the first to complain about the summer schedule: "But we can't go to beach! What if our friends want to hang out?" (Rest assured that they had the majority of the hours in the day to hit up the beach.) But those who complained the most ended up having the best attendance, and with little 'tude in the gym to boot. It's the latter that's always the miracle.

As the season quickly approaches, the IGC girls look solid. You couldn't always say that. But now, it's true. They'll go out there and perform anywhere between great and serviceably, but the embarrassing times will be fewer.

The Level 4's have become Level 5. This does, in fact, have the potential to be scary. Front handsprings over the table look like slow, slow handstands falling to the floor. Bars are gross. Quite gross. The thing is that the kids don't seem to mind at all. But they will mind when they go to a competition and don't win any awards. The true motivation for our youth.

Whenever the new Level 4's perform a beam or floor routine, something that is beautiful and pristine in our world (a work of art, a statue) weeps. But I like this new batch because almost all of them catch on quickly. They're young and hyper and all demand my attention at once. I almost went hoarse trying to teach them the beam routine en masse. Yet there's some real ability buried beneath the flexed toes and splayed fingers.

The question is, do I have the patience and the skill to unearth it? I hope so, so long as I don't lose my voice.