In the hazy gym, the light filtered in from the setting sun in the west.It was augmented by the overhead fluorescent lights. The haze was a chalky dust, and the gym was dry enough to pull the water out of your mouth when you lean back and yawn. But it was a typical afternoon, nothing special.
They have been here before. Practice was as the usual rigmarole. No awards ceremony, no Capri-Suns or orange slices. There was a lot of chanting and cheering, working on individual skills, asking for teammates’ approval. You know, nothing new, nothing different.
"Does this look good enough?" "How’s my form?" "Were my toes pointed?"
All of those questions have been asked before, and they all know the answers. "Yes," "Great" and "Yes." It’s almost an eerie feeling of déjà vu. Sometimes they would pause and look off into the distance, almost as if they recognized the feeling. Just a blank stare.
It’s not form tackling drills outside of Reser, jump-shots in Gill or even batting practice in Goss. No, this practice is in a far more chaotic place: Gladys Valley Gymnastics Center.
Even in the chaos, the Oregon State gymnastics team practice was filled with everydayness. Even the most difficult tasks look controlled and calm. Sure, the gymnasts finished second in the Pac-10 Championship, losing to Stanford by .450 points – but they were trying to win it. And they beat every team in the Pac-10 this year – but to them, that’s just a footnote.
Pfft, yeah, Tasha Smith and Jami Lanz won a combined three individual titles, but that doesn’t mean anything on Tuesday. Coach Tanya Chaplin won Coach of the Year, but that doesn’t mean it’s time for a margarita. They have to compete at Regionals.
Funny thing, though: they have done that, too.
That’s the amazing thing about the seventh-ranked Beaver gymnastics team; while other teams focus on treating the Regional Championships like just another meet, the Beavers actually can do that. The Oregon State gymnastics team has been to Regionals every year since 1979 – seemingly since "Regionals" were "Regionals."
While it’s nothing new, it’s also not getting old. The Beavers crave a chance to compete for a national title, and the road to Nationals rolls through Regionals, which also happens to roll through Corvallis. The Beavers have been at the door of a National title since the Super Six was introduced. They want to feel the cold metal of the national championship ring, feel on top of the world on the podium and know that they are the best.
And this year might be the year. If those engineering majors are right and solid infrastructure is the key to stability, it’s easy to see why the Beavers are ranked seventh in the nation. And it all starts on campus with hard practice at the gym.
To an uneducated observer it looks more like chaos than practice. Everything happening at once, like living through a tornado. Even someone on Adderall couldn’t focus. And if someone ever tells you that gymnastics practice is easy, take another look at that person. Chances are he’s been swimming with the sharks – with a bloody nose.
It’s hard to show up every day and put yourself through five hours of flips, turns, handstands and dismounts. But this group supports each other like a surrogate family. They provide more support than a corset. They rave that through this support they are able to achieve and continue to repeat awesome performances, meet after meet and year after year.
So the hum-drum world of the Oregon State gymnastics team rolls on. Nothing new, nothing special. Or is it? A team that can consistently win, consistently push for a national title seems like more than that.
Imagine a basketball team that made it to the NCAA Tournament so many years in a row, it became habit. Imagine a baseball team that was in the post-season every year for nearly 30 years. Or think if a football team pumped out 32 All-Americans – 11 repeat All-Americans – in 30 years.
Nothing special? Try downright amazing.
Jen Kesler is hot!