Perfect

It’s the old saying: Practice makes perfect. But does it really? Who’s perfect? Nolan Ryan and Walter Johnson might be the best pitchers ever, but were they ever perfect? Sure they threw no hitters and shut-outs but does that mean it was perfect? I doubt they threw 81 strikes in a row those nights. Doubt they had 27 strike outs. Still perfect? Maybe.

What about the ‘72 Dolphins, they were perfect, right? Yeah, they hiccupped against Minnesota that season, nearly lost to Buffalo, too, but they were still perfect, right? 17-0 and won the super bowl, seems perfect. But that begs the question, what is perfect?

Is perfect just a W, regardless. Or is perfect… really, perfect? No flaws, no hiccups, no doubts.

It depends. Pitchers can have flawless outings without 81 strikes and teams can have flawless seasons without 52-0 victories every week. Perfect is simply heart-stopping. A perfect game in baseball grabs nation. A perfect season in football nearly brought the world to a standstill in February. Perfect is funny that way – it’ll grab your attention, even if you didn’t think you’d care.

Perfect is competing so well it’s like it was read from a book. Perfect is beautiful. Perfect is why something like gymnastics, is so different. Perfect isn’t dependant on the strength of an opponent but versus a picture in a book.

Gymnastics was born out of humans desire for perfection, there is no other logical explanation. There is no reason any person should be performing double pikes, wolf jumps or reverse Hechts. Yurchenko? Forget about it.

But, perfect is never more perfect than on the floor of a gymnastics meet. A perfect game in baseball still involves a first basemen and the left fielder – who can bail a pitcher out. Perfection for a gymnast involves just one person, no help. A perfect season in football still has a coaching staff scouting teams and watching tape – to give a team the edge. The only tape a gymnast knows goes around an ankle or a wrist.

Gymnastics makes the crowd want a ten just as much as the athlete.

In gymnastics, perfect has to be perfect because judges are meticulous with points. They will find ways to deduct, they crave it, really. Didn’t point your toes? Minus a tenth. Take an extra step? Minus a tenth, again. Dancing skills lacking? Minus another tenth, just for good measure. Heck, the judges would try to deduct points for a bad wedgie.

And these gymnasts still strive to be perfect. Good luck. Remind me not to hold my breath.

Unless, Oregon State gymnast, junior, Tasha Smith is performing.

Smith finished her evening on Friday night with a perfect 10.0 on her floor routine. No flaws, no hiccups, no extra steps, falls, or bent knees. She was simply perfect. She was the first perfect floor routine for an Oregon State gymnast since Chrissy Lamun back in 2003. That’s not bad company to be in, either.

Smith strolled through her routine with ease. It felt like she was performing a walk-through of what perfect should look like. The only thing that was missing was the cheesy voice-over. Every pass looked easier than the last. Full-in back-out – stuck. Huge 1 ½ twist front layout – stuck. Double back pike – stuck. There wasn’t a flaw in the whole routine. Even her Heisman stance looked good.

That’s when the “ten” chants started raining down from the crowd. First from the student section, then the rest of Gill and eventually the judges, in their own way, let Smith know that she had accomplished perfection.

In the last two meets her floor routine has earned three perfect 10.0 and a 9.95. That spells consistency. That spells hard work. That spells practice. Yeah, we talkin’ bout practice.

Tasha Smith knows practice, and now she knows perfect. Real perfect.