She dreamed of ballet and studied in a choreographic studio in the Kherson House of Folk Art. Due to the circumstances, Latynina had to give up dancing, and in the fifth grade she enrolled in the school gymnastics section. Her first coach was Mikhail Sotnichenko. In the ninth grade I fulfilled the standard for a master of sports.
In 1953, after graduating from school with a gold medal, Larisa Latynina moved to Kyiv, entered the Polytechnic Institute and continued training under the guidance of the Honored Trainer of the USSR Alexander Mishakov. After the second year I moved from the Polytechnic Institute to the Institute of Physical Culture. She combined her studies with performances in competitions at various levels, and soon her first major success came: as a member of the USSR national team in 1954 in Rome, she became the world champion.
In 1956, the athlete made her debut at the Olympic Games in Melbourne. The debut turned out to be successful - the Soviet gymnast became the absolute Olympic champion, opening the account of her unique collection of Olympic awards.
Latynina is the most titled athlete on the planet! She won 18 Olympic medals, of which 9 gold, 5 silver, 4 bronze. She is a two-time absolute champion of the Olympics, world, Europe and the USSR.
Latynina admitted that she does not like to train. She said that she doesn’t like everything that only precedes gymnastics, but in itself is not gymnastics. She loved to perform. Probably many famous athletes think the same. But only Latynina admitted this, spoke publicly. She has such a difficult character - to think and speak without prevarication. And this, in the end, always helped her to establish herself in the infallibility of her choice, to creatively analyze her every step towards her intended goal.
Larisa Semenovna Latynina was born on December 27, 1934. She grew up in post-war Kherson without a father. At that time her name was Larisa Diriy. In her early childhood, Larisa studied in a choreography group. I started gymnastics in the fifth grade. Her first coach was Mikhail Afanasyevich Sotnichenko. In 1950, Diriy became a first-class student and, as part of the national team of Ukrainian schoolchildren, went to the All-Union Championship in Kazan. However, she performed unsuccessfully in the capital of Tatarstan.
After that failure, Larisa trained twice a day. In the fall, he and Sotnichenko began working on a program for masters. Pretty soon she became the first master of sports in her hometown. Speaking according to an updated program at the adult championship of the republic in Kharkov, Larisa took fourth place. Larisa refused all tempting offers to move to another city.
She graduated from school with a gold medal and in 1954 entered the Kiev Polytechnic Institute. Once, because of a trip to a competition, I took chemistry later. An elderly teacher asked: “Why didn’t you show up for the test along with everyone else?” Having heard that the student was performing at a gymnastics tournament in Paris, she was indignant: “Girl, this is the Order of Lenin Polytechnic Institute! Here you need to study day and night, and not tumble around abroad!”
The following year Larisa studied at the Kiev Infizkult. In June of the same year, Diriy went as part of the USSR national team to Rome for the next, thirteenth World Championship. The team won a difficult fight. Larisa was unable to complete all the apparatus smoothly and remained far behind the medalists in the all-around. Floor exercises are another matter. The famous German gymnast G. Dikhut wrote: “We see very rarely what young Larisa Diriy showed us... It was the purest acrobatic work, which demonstrated both an excellent ballet school and a wonderful musical flair, which ensures harmony in complex exercises. This is an exemplary demonstration of world-class craftsmanship.” This is how she became the world champion for the first time.
In Kyiv, Larisa trained with Mishakov. Semenych taught his players to think and solve problems independently at every training session. However, he recognized improvisation within very narrow limits. “You first learn, repeat, and then wait for the spark of God,” he said. Mishakov was very stingy with praise. He peered, squinted and rarely smiled. In March 1956, Larisa won major international competitions in Kyiv against Tamara Manina, Sonya Muratova, and Gali Shamray. Behind were Eva Bosakova and Agnes Keleti. In addition to the all-around, Larisa also won three events. But Semenych was dissatisfied: he had to win the floor exercises against Bosakova!
And then came December 3, 1956 - the opening of gymnastics competitions in Olympic Melbourne. There were three left from the '54 team: Muratova, Manina and Latynina.
Before the rest day, the USSR team came out on top and won more points. In the all-around, Romanian Elena Leusteanu was in first place, Sonya Muratova was in second place, and Larisa was in third place. The leaders were separated by thousandths of a point. Larisa, oddly enough, was not worried. And why? “Third place is very good for you,” the subtle psychologist Mishakov told her, “but you still have to hold on.” And she thought about how to hold on.
In her book “Balance” Latynina wrote:
“Do everything as you have already done,” I repeated to myself before the jump. I don’t know if it was the high automatism of the skill, as I was told later, or something else, but of the entire jump I only remembered landing on the board. I found out later that the score was the highest of the whole day. Also later, when all the participants had jumped off, it became clear that I had a gold and Tamara had a silver Olympic medal. In Melbourne, we last competed for medals for exercises at the same time as the fight for the title of absolute champion.
And I must say that with this system I did not fully feel the first victory. But then the freestyle passed, and Agnes Keleti and I had the largest and equal amounts. I was still unconsciously happy about this victory, and then I realized it as a personal achievement, as an advantage of style.
Apparently, during these hours I believed in myself, after a break on the uneven bars I performed easily, calmly and received the highest score for women of all days in Melbourne - 9.6. This gave me a total of second place for Keleti and a silver medal. Now in the afternoon we switched places: Agnes finished performing, and I led a kind of pursuit race. However, I must say quite frankly that this only became clear to me before the last shell. It would be enough for me to get 9 points, and I would become the absolute champion of the Olympic Games. Sonya would need 9.5 for this, and Tamara, by Melbourne standards, would have to get a completely fantastic score - 9.8. So, it was most realistic for me to solve the problem. But... didn’t Keleti consider her task in Rome just as unrealistic? I knew that now the Hungarian gymnasts were watching us, just as we once watched Agnes’s jumps. Did they expect accidents? Perhaps, if there were no accidents, no surprises, sport would not be sport, gymnastics would not be gymnastics.
So, balance on a beam. It was that moment of the XVI Olympic Games when calm left me. At first I felt like a enslaved dummy on the beam, and then, when the movements finally gained ease, I thought: don’t fall off, don’t fall off. This is a very bad refrain. Under it you forget about everything else. Well, can an actor... ignite the viewer if during a monologue he repeats to himself: “Don’t forget, don’t forget.” He won't forget, but he will be quickly forgotten. After Melbourne I managed to get rid of this refrain. It seemed that not a minute and a half, but an hour and a half passed until I jumped off the log. Here's the score. I don’t have time to perceive it yet, but I understand, since Lina and Lida kiss and hug me and all the girls run to me, it’s a victory!”
After the Olympics, at a government reception in the Kremlin in the presence of Khrushchev and Voroshilov, Larisa shocked everyone by making a toast on behalf of the champions: “Do you know why we fought like that in the Olympic arenas? We were afraid that if we lost, Nikita Sergeevich would sow all the stadiums with corn.”
Another evidence of Latynina’s highest level of skill was the first European Championship, which brought together virtually all the strongest gymnasts. Larisa was in the lead from the very first exercise and achieved a convincing victory in the all-around and in individual exercises.
In December 1957, Latynina lost the USSR championship to Muratova. But that was not what bothered Larisa. She was expecting a child. In July 1958, pregnant Latynina, as if nothing had happened, performed at the world championship, being in her fifth month. But how! She not only excelled in the all-around, but also took gold in the vault and uneven bars. The girl, who was named Tatyana, was born on time and healthy. Years later, the daughter, showing the 1958 medal, will smile: “We won it together with my mother.”
After the birth of the child, many thought that Larisa would no longer be able to win in the gymnastics arena. And they began to predict Polina Astakhova to be the new leader of Soviet gymnastics.
“Now, when I return to the games in Rome, I clearly understand,” recalled Latynina, “that it is simply impossible to talk about our competitions there and not talk about my fight with Lina...
We performed in the evening, and there was still a whole day of anxiety. The team is the strongest, they said about us that they should worry. Indeed, we beat the Czech gymnasts by more than four points.
And again jumping. I jumped onto the platform with a ball. Do you think you have forgotten how to compete? My score is 9.433, and I win back almost everything she accumulated on the first day from Lina in one form. But the next event is the uneven bars, where Polina was then, of course, unsurpassed. Here she returns her tenth. Then the log. Before him, I remembered Rome, red-hot six years ago, and one moment that deprived Tamara Manina of her hopes for the title of world champion, and her bewildered face. Yes, all this happened, it was a long time ago. And now - forward. And, as always, don’t think about the assessment, don’t think about the danger, don’t think about your rivals. Think about how to perform better, showing everything you can, spiritualizing your skill with feeling.
But after the projectile, emotions are emotions, and struggle is struggle. Practical language - 9.7. I knew it was high praise. Sonya got 9.66 after me. If Polina had received a grade equal to mine, I would not have been able to catch up with her; if equal to Sonina, before the last look she would have been one tenth ahead of me. I believed that I could win it back - freestyle was ahead. I'm talking about these two assessments. For more, you had to take risks, as Eva Bosakova did in the morning, receiving 9.766. But Eve could afford the risk; she did not claim absolute championship; exercises on the balance beam were her only chance for a medal. Lina was thinking about another medal, and when the struggle intensified, she apparently trembled a little. A little. It cost her a lot. And Polina did not have enough balance. She fell and was eliminated with a score of 8.733 from the competition for the championship.
One and a half minutes of music, as well as ninety seconds of movements, is probably not enough to leave a very deep impression. And yet, fused together, they can say a lot. In these moments, everything depends on you. Don't think about how to pass the diagonal and get into a standing position, don't waste the last minutes trying to repeat the flaps. Think about one thing - how best to convey everything you want to say with your movements, what each of them serves. Then, in Rome, I knew this. I really wanted these freestyle events to become an event not only for me. I started and finished them in one breath. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I meticulously listened to the noise of applause. And even before the judges’ score—9.9—I knew: I accomplished what I set out to do.
And here are the results of the absolute championship: I am first, Sonya Muratova is second, Lina is third, Rita Nikolaeva is fourth, Lida Ivanova is seventh. A zero score on balance beam set Tamara Lyukhina back a long way, but she also received a gold medal for the team victory. As a team, we beat the Czech girls by almost nine points, and the day of the finals was our day.”
“The Soviet gymnasts,” wrote Gianni Rodari in Paese Sera, “gave on television the most beautiful representation of the Olympic Games. We have never seen anything more beautiful than this spectacle of beauty, grace and harmony...”
The USSR national team went to the 64 Olympics with a greatly updated squad. According to Latynina, the coaches should have placed their bets on one gymnast: either her or Astakhova. Then there was a real chance to win the overall champion medal.
Back in 1963, Latynina managed to win the pre-Olympic competition against Chaslavskaya at the Japanese Open. But... Larisa performed evenly, almost the same as in Rome: uneven bars - second place, beam - second, vault - third, floor - first. Successful, smooth, but lacked brilliance, external effect, what a real champion should always have.
However, Latynina simply did not have the right to end her Olympic journey with defeat. And as always, she performed her favorite freestyles brilliantly.
In Tokyo, Latynina was the last time the captain of the Soviet gymnastics team - the winner of the Olympics. But she remained on the team for several more years, appeared on the stage next to the newcomers, lost to them, meekly playing second roles in the play, where she had shone as a soloist for so many seasons, and taught the girls to win.
It is natural that Larisa Latynina became the head coach of the USSR women's national team, and remained so for ten whole years. Under her leadership, our team won Olympic gold medals three times in 1968, 1972, 1976. For five years, Latynina was a member of the Organizing Committee of the Olympics-80, then she was responsible for the development of gymnastics at the Moscow Sports Committee.
Today, at her dacha - near the famous 18th-century architectural monument "Otrada" in Semenovsky above the Lopasnya River - Larisa Semenovna has raised an entire farm: rabbits, pigs, sheep...
“Since childhood, I have been very fond of pets,” says Larisa Semyonovna. “But life happened in such a way that I was always far from them. And now I’m a pensioner, and when the opportunity arose to start this farm, I gladly took the opportunity. And then, this is not self-indulgence...
All my life, while I was performing, training, while I was going to training camps and competitions, I had no time to take care of my home or apartment. And now I fulfill my purely feminine duties with such pleasure. I’m cooking, waiting for Yura to get home from work - this is my husband. The Lord sent me a wonderful man, with him I experience true feminine happiness. Next to me is a beloved and loving person; my daughter and two grandchildren live not far from us. I am happy to help them: cook, clean, iron. This is not a burden to me at all. On the contrary, I feel some kind of pleasure from this. So, as you can see, life in retirement can be happy too.”
Daughter Tanya did not become a gymnast. After graduating from school at the ensemble of Igor Moiseev, she entered the famous “Berezka”, with which she traveled all over the world. While on tour in Venezuela, I met my future husband. His son-in-law, who has Russian roots, is called Rostislav; it is not surprising that the chain of restaurants he opened is called “Rostiks”.
Latynina Larisa Semenovna(maiden name - Diriy; genus. December 27, Kherson, Ukrainian SSR, USSR) - Ukrainian Soviet gymnast, nine-time Olympic champion (1956, 1960, 1964), Honored Master of Sports of the USSR (1956), repeated world and European champion (1957-62), USSR (1956-64 ) in individual and team competitions, Honored Coach of the USSR (1972), Honored Worker of Physical Culture of the Russian Federation.
Family
- Husband (first marriage) - Ivan Ilyich Latynin
- Daughter - Tatyana Ivanovna Latynina (born 1958), danced in the Beryozka ensemble
- Son-in-law - Rostislav Vadimovich Ordovsky-Tanaevsky Blanco (born 1958), businessman
- Grandchildren: Konstantin (born 1981), Vadim (born 1994).
- Son - Andrey (died)
- Husband (third marriage) - Yuri Izrailevich Feldman (born 1938), Doctor of Technical Sciences, Professor, Academician of the Russian and International Academy of Electrotechnical Sciences, former President, General Director of JSC Joint-Stock Electrical Engineering Company Dynamo
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Links
- - Olympic statistics on the website Sports-Reference.com(English)
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An excerpt characterizing Latynin, Larisa Semyonovna
- But tell me, how will your husband look at this matter? - he said, due to the strength of his reputation, not afraid to undermine himself with such a naive question. – Will he agree?- Ah! “Il m"aime tant! - said Helen, who for some reason thought that Pierre loved her too. - Il fera tout pour moi. [Ah! he loves me so much! He is ready for anything for me.]
Bilibin picked up the skin to represent the mot being prepared.
“Meme le divorce, [Even for a divorce.],” he said.
Helen laughed.
Among the people who allowed themselves to doubt the legality of the marriage being undertaken was Helen’s mother, Princess Kuragina. She was constantly tormented by envy of her daughter, and now, when the object of envy was closest to the princess’s heart, she could not come to terms with this thought. She consulted with a Russian priest about the extent to which divorce and marriage was possible while her husband was alive, and the priest told her that this was impossible, and, to her joy, pointed her to the Gospel text, which (it seemed to the priest) directly rejected the possibility of marriage from a living husband.
Armed with these arguments, which seemed irrefutable to her, the princess went to see her daughter early in the morning, in order to find her alone.
After listening to her mother's objections, Helen smiled meekly and mockingly.
“But it’s directly said: whoever marries a divorced wife...” said the old princess.
- Ah, maman, ne dites pas de betises. Vous ne comprenez rien. Dans ma position j"ai des devoirs, [Ah, mamma, don’t talk nonsense. You don’t understand anything. My position has responsibilities.] - Helen spoke, translating the conversation into French from Russian, in which she always seemed to have some kind of ambiguity in her case.
- But, my friend...
– Ah, maman, comment est ce que vous ne comprenez pas que le Saint Pere, qui a le droit de donner des dispenses... [Ah, mamma, how don’t you understand that the Holy Father, who has the power of absolution...]
At this time, the lady companion who lived with Helen came in to report to her that His Highness was in the hall and wanted to see her.
- Non, dites lui que je ne veux pas le voir, que je suis furieuse contre lui, parce qu"il m"a manque parole. [No, tell him that I don’t want to see him, that I’m furious against him because he didn’t keep his word to me.]
“Comtesse a tout peche misericorde, [Countess, mercy for every sin.],” said a young blond man with a long face and nose as he entered.
The old princess stood up respectfully and sat down. The young man who entered did not pay attention to her. The princess nodded her head to her daughter and floated towards the door.
“No, she’s right,” thought the old princess, all her convictions were destroyed before the appearance of His Highness. - She is right; but how is it that we didn’t know this in our irrevocable youth? And it was so simple,” the old princess thought as she got into the carriage.
At the beginning of August, Helen's matter was completely determined, and she wrote a letter to her husband (who loved her very much, as she thought) in which she informed him of her intention to marry NN and that she had joined the one true religion and that she asks him to complete all the formalities necessary for divorce, which the bearer of this letter will convey to him.
“Sur ce je prie Dieu, mon ami, de vous avoir sous sa sainte et puissante garde. Votre amie Helene.”
[“Then I pray to God that you, my friend, will be under his holy, strong protection. Your friend Elena"]
This letter was brought to Pierre's house while he was on the Borodino field.
The second time, already at the end of the Battle of Borodino, having escaped from Raevsky’s battery, Pierre with crowds of soldiers headed along the ravine to Knyazkov, reached the dressing station and, seeing blood and hearing screams and groans, hastily moved on, getting mixed up in the crowds of soldiers.
One thing that Pierre now wanted with all the strength of his soul was to quickly get out of those terrible impressions in which he lived that day, return to normal living conditions and fall asleep peacefully in his room on his bed. Only under ordinary conditions of life did he feel that he would be able to understand himself and all that he had seen and experienced. But these ordinary living conditions were nowhere to be found.
Although cannonballs and bullets did not whistle here along the road along which he walked, on all sides there was the same thing that was there on the battlefield. There were the same suffering, exhausted and sometimes strangely indifferent faces, the same blood, the same soldiers' greatcoats, the same sounds of shooting, although distant, but still terrifying; In addition, it was stuffy and dusty.
Having walked about three miles along the big Mozhaisk road, Pierre sat down on the edge of it.
Dusk fell on the ground, and the roar of the guns died down. Pierre, leaning on his arm, lay down and lay there for a long time, looking at the shadows moving past him in the darkness. It constantly seemed to him that a cannonball was flying at him with a terrible whistle; he shuddered and stood up. He didn't remember how long he had been here. In the middle of the night, three soldiers, having brought branches, placed themselves next to him and began to make a fire.
The soldiers, looking sideways at Pierre, lit a fire, put a pot on it, crumbled crackers into it and put lard in it. The pleasant smell of edible and fatty food merged with the smell of smoke. Pierre stood up and sighed. The soldiers (there were three of them) ate, not paying attention to Pierre, and talked among themselves.
- What kind of person will you be? - one of the soldiers suddenly turned to Pierre, obviously, by this question meaning what Pierre was thinking, namely: if you want something, we will give it to you, just tell me, are you an honest person?
- I? me?.. - said Pierre, feeling the need to belittle his social position as much as possible in order to be closer and more understandable to the soldiers. “I am truly a militia officer, only my squad is not here; I came to the battle and lost my own.
- Look! - said one of the soldiers.
The other soldier shook his head.
- Well, eat the mess if you want! - said the first and gave Pierre, licking it, a wooden spoon.
Pierre sat down by the fire and began to eat the mess, the food that was in the pot and which seemed to him the most delicious of all the foods that he had ever eaten. While he greedily bent over the pot, picking up large spoons, chewing one after another and his face was visible in the light of the fire, the soldiers silently looked at him.
-Where do you want it? You tell me! – one of them asked again.
– I’m going to Mozhaisk.
- Are you now a master?
- Yes.
- What’s your name?
- Pyotr Kirillovich.
- Well, Pyotr Kirillovich, let’s go, we’ll take you. In complete darkness, the soldiers, together with Pierre, went to Mozhaisk.
The roosters were already crowing when they reached Mozhaisk and began to climb the steep city mountain. Pierre walked along with the soldiers, completely forgetting that his inn was below the mountain and that he had already passed it. He would not have remembered this (he was in such a state of loss) if his guard, who went to look for him around the city and returned back to his inn, had not encountered him halfway up the mountain. The bereitor recognized Pierre by his hat, which was turning white in the darkness.
“Your Excellency,” he said, “we are already desperate.” Why are you walking? Where are you going, please?
“Oh yes,” said Pierre.
The soldiers paused.
- Well, have you found yours? - said one of them.
- Well, goodbye! Pyotr Kirillovich, I think? Farewell, Pyotr Kirillovich! - said other voices.
“Goodbye,” said Pierre and headed with his driver to the inn.
“We have to give it to them!” - Pierre thought, taking his pocket. “No, don’t,” a voice told him.
There was no room in the upper rooms of the inn: everyone was occupied. Pierre went into the yard and, covering his head, lay down in his carriage.
As soon as Pierre laid his head on the pillow, he felt that he was falling asleep; but suddenly, with the clarity of almost reality, a boom, boom, boom of shots was heard, groans, screams, the splashing of shells were heard, the smell of blood and gunpowder, and a feeling of horror, the fear of death, overwhelmed him. He opened his eyes in fear and raised his head from under his overcoat. Everything was quiet in the yard. Only at the gate, talking to the janitor and splashing through the mud, was some orderly walking. Above Pierre's head, under the dark underside of the plank canopy, doves fluttered from the movement he made while rising. Throughout the yard there was a peaceful, joyful for Pierre at that moment, strong smell of an inn, the smell of hay, manure and tar. Between two black canopies a clear starry sky was visible.
“Thank God this isn’t happening anymore,” thought Pierre, covering his head again. - Oh, how terrible fear is and how shamefully I surrendered to it! And they... they were firm and calm all the time, until the end... - he thought. In Pierre's concept, they were soldiers - those who were at the battery, and those who fed him, and those who prayed to the icon. They - these strange ones, hitherto unknown to him, were clearly and sharply separated in his thoughts from all other people.
“To be a soldier, just a soldier! - thought Pierre, falling asleep. – Enter into this common life with your whole being, imbued with what makes them so. But how can one throw off all this unnecessary, devilish, all the burden of this external man? At one time I could have been this. I could run away from my father as much as I wanted. Even after the duel with Dolokhov, I could have been sent as a soldier.” And in Pierre’s imagination flashed a dinner at a club, at which he called Dolokhov, and a benefactor in Torzhok. And now Pierre is presented with a ceremonial dining room. This lodge takes place in the English Club. And someone familiar, close, dear, sits at the end of the table. Yes it is! This is a benefactor. “But he died? - thought Pierre. - Yes, he died; but I didn't know he was alive. And how sorry I am that he died, and how glad I am that he is alive again!” On one side of the table sat Anatole, Dolokhov, Nesvitsky, Denisov and others like him (the category of these people was as clearly defined in Pierre’s soul in the dream as the category of those people whom he called them), and these people, Anatole, Dolokhov they shouted and sang loudly; but from behind their shout the voice of the benefactor could be heard, speaking incessantly, and the sound of his words was as significant and continuous as the roar of the battlefield, but it was pleasant and comforting. Pierre did not understand what the benefactor was saying, but he knew (the category of thoughts was just as clear in the dream) that the benefactor was talking about goodness, about the possibility of being what they were. And they surrounded the benefactor on all sides, with their simple, kind, firm faces. But although they were kind, they did not look at Pierre, did not know him. Pierre wanted to attract their attention and say. He stood up, but at the same moment his legs became cold and exposed.
He felt ashamed, and he covered his legs with his hand, from which the greatcoat actually fell off. For a moment, Pierre, straightening his overcoat, opened his eyes and saw the same awnings, pillars, courtyard, but all this was now bluish, light and covered with sparkles of dew or frost.
“It’s dawning,” thought Pierre. - But that’s not it. I need to listen to the end and understand the words of the benefactor.” He covered himself with his overcoat again, but neither the dining box nor the benefactor was there. There were only thoughts clearly expressed in words, thoughts that someone said or Pierre himself thought about.
Pierre, later recalling these thoughts, despite the fact that they were caused by the impressions of that day, was convinced that someone outside himself was telling them to him. Never, it seemed to him, had he been able to think and express his thoughts like that in reality.
Born on December 27, 1934 in the city of Kherson in Ukraine. Father - Diriy Semyon Andreevich (1906-1943), participant in the Great Patriotic War, died in the Battle of Stalingrad. Mother - Barabanyuk Pelageya Anisimovna (1902-1975). Spouse - Feldman Yuri Izrailovich (born 1938), Doctor of Technical Sciences, Professor, Academician of the Russian and International Academy of Electrotechnical Sciences, former President, General Director of JSC Joint-Stock Electrotechnical Company Dynamo, currently Advisor to the General Director of JSC "AEK Dynamo" Daughter - Latynina Tatyana Ivanovna (born 1958), danced for 15 years in the choreographic ensemble "Berezka". Grandchildren: Konstantin (born 1981), Vadim (born 1994).
Larisa and her mother suffered difficult years of enemy occupation and post-war devastation. To feed the family, my mother had to work day and night as a cleaner and a stoker. Nevertheless, her unshakable principle - her daughter should be raised no worse than that of people - operated under any circumstances.
I will never forget the war. And no one from my generation will forget her. She brought us thousands of troubles. And among the families of my peers there is not a single one who has not been scorched by the frequent indiscriminate lightning of a military thunderstorm. Somewhere in the area of the great Battle of Stalingrad, in the ground strewn with shrapnel and saturated with gunpowder fumes, my father is buried.
Larisa dreamed of ballet since childhood. The girl clearly imagined the huge stage of the Bolshoi Theater, a multi-tiered hall and stormy applause addressed to the ballerina Larisa Diriy, dancing on stage easily, confidently, at ease. One day after class, Larisa saw an announcement that a choreographic studio had opened in the House of Folk Art. Tuition there cost 50 rubles a month, which was a significant part of my mother’s salary, but my mother gave this money away without hesitation. If at the same time some other paid school had opened somewhere (for example, playing the piano), then the last money would have been given there too.
The day came when we, sniffling with excitement, began to study the great wisdom of the ancient and wonderful art of ballet. Our director, Nikolai Vasilyevich Stesso, seemed to us to be Petipa’s direct closest heir, and we often wondered: why is he busy with us in Kherson, and not commanding the soloists and ranks of the corps de ballet on the stages of Moscow or Leningrad? Under the patronage of our leader, we got to see a performance by the great dancer Lepeshinskaya, who toured with us for only one day. If in the first minutes the question “Can I do this?” still arose subconsciously, then he retreated, as everything around him retreated and faded, except for the stage. Then for the first time I truly saw what is now commonly called the “wonderful world of movements.” Yes, it was a new, beautiful, dazzling world, and when the performance ended, I couldn’t even believe that one person had taken us there.
Soon the studio closed because there were not enough parental shares. N.V. Stesso invited Larisa and another girl to continue studying in a circle that he led in one of the clubs. There the girlfriends found themselves in an almost adult club life: they were given routines, they danced at amateur performances evenings, and went to evening film shows. And yet the atmosphere was no longer the same, and Larisa decided to give up dancing. This is not to say that this decision was easy for her. This did not mean that she gave up her dream. After all, she already had gymnastics...
I really liked gymnastics, as any child likes movements and as any girl likes the art of beautiful movements. I was used to climbing trees and attics and doing pull-ups on improvised pipe bars, running along stone parapets and jumping rope. The decisive role in ending my dancing career was played by the fact that the seemingly parallel courses of ballet and gymnastics nevertheless crossed.
“You, Larisa, leave gymnastics - it will harden you, stiffen your muscles, and in general this is not an art, unless it’s closer to the circus,” Nikolai Vasilyevich Stesso told me politely, dramatically wringing his hands.
Best of the day
“Give up your hopak, Laura,” my first coach Mikhail Afanasyevich Sotnichenko said angrily. “This is not a serious matter. It only interferes with the sport. But in gymnastics you are starting to succeed.”
Something happened with the hopak. But I believed Mikhail Afanasyevich. Childhood and youth quickly catch falsehood and truth. And every word of my first coach, a school teacher, was always true.
Gymnastics became more and more part of Larisa’s life. In 1950, she completed the first category and, as part of the national team of Ukrainian schoolchildren, went to the All-Union Championship in Kazan. However, the performance was unsuccessful: the young gymnast received a zero on the horizontal bar and then worried for a long time, bursting into tears alone. It was then that Larisa learned one firm rule: laugh with everyone, cry alone.
After Kazan, Larisa trained with renewed energy and already in the 9th grade she fulfilled the standard of a master of sports. In Kherson, at the city stadium, she was solemnly presented with a badge and certificate. She became the first master of sports of the USSR in her hometown. In 1953, Larisa graduated from school with a gold medal and was going to go to Kyiv to enter the Polytechnic Institute. Almost simultaneously, Moscow sent her a call to an all-Union training camp in Bratsevo, where the USSR national team was preparing to go to the World Festival of Youth and Students in Bucharest. She passed the decisive control qualifying competitions with dignity and soon received the coveted blue woolen suit with a white “Olympic” stripe on the neck and the letters “USSR”.
In the capital of Romania, the first gold medals in Larisa Diriy’s sports career were won at international competitions.
In Kyiv, a student of the Electrical Engineering Faculty of the Polytechnic Larisa continued training under the guidance of the Honored Trainer of the USSR Alexander Semenovich Mishakov. Sport had already taken a powerful hold of her and demanded more and more attention. From a simple hobby it grew into his life’s work. It became increasingly clear to her that she had to choose a path where her future profession would be related to sports. And when this became obvious, she went to study at the Institute of Physical Culture.
Time passed, and one day in June 1954 we found ourselves in the Eternal City - Rome. The thirteenth world championship, and the first for Soviet gymnasts. And it took place in unprecedented conditions: in the open air, in the shade, the thermometer showed more than forty degrees, it was scary to approach the shells. Luckily, we started with floor exercises. I remember the feeling of unexpected ease with which I stepped onto the carpet and began my run-up. Turns, high jumps, a jump with a turn - everything worked out, and it worked out quite well. I finished the exercise and heard applause.
The competition continued with a balance exercise on a balance beam. My lips were completely dry, and it seemed that sweat would definitely pour into my eyes, and the sultry air seemed like a thick fog. I whispered to myself: I won’t fall, I won’t fall, and instantly forgot that just recently I performed with such ease. Dismount. Completely exhausted, I thought: no, you can’t perform like that. Meanwhile, Sonya Muratova dropped out of the fight and suffered a dislocation of her elbow joint. Maria Gorokhovskaya was in the lead, followed by Tamara Manina, who jumped perfectly, and Galina Shamray and I took places nearby. The excitement was very great.
After the first day of competition, we read in the evening newspapers: “Russia has an undeniable advantage. Soviet gymnasts are calm, cool, have excellent style and have an absolute superiority over their rivals in performing exercises according to the compulsory program.” If only the author of these lines knew what each performance cost our girls.
In the morning I decided: the worst was over. This time we started at ten o'clock, and the stands of the stadium were filled with spectators, protecting themselves from the sun in a variety of ways. We were applauded in advance, even before the performance. And our free ones sparkled and began to play. Later I was shown a translation of an article by the famous German gymnast G. Dikhut, which included the following lines: “We see very rarely what young Larisa Diriy showed us... It was pure acrobatic work, in which both excellent ballet school and a wonderful musical sense that ensures harmony in complex exercises. This is an exemplary demonstration of world-class skill."
Tamara Manina's floor exercises were a true demonstration of skill. The highest score in the free program, the largest amount and a gold medal for the world champion. Tamara is a world champion. I believed and did not believe in it, and rejoiced at my friend’s success, was surprised and drove away the thought that I could also perform well, because I was in the group of leaders. However, the heavy burden of leadership was clearly beyond my strength at that time. She fell off the bars! Quite rightly, the losses were estimated at two points. Both Tamara Manina and the most experienced Maria Gorokhovskaya had breakdowns. Fortunately, Galya Shamray withstood all the grueling vicissitudes of the struggle and boldly attacked the peak, which we, to tell the truth, were afraid to think about.
The USSR national team won first place, and Larisa Latynina (Diriy) received the first gold medal as a world champion.
There were two years left until Melbourne. Larisa and her coach Alexander Semenovich Mishakov were looking for a special style where sport would be harmoniously combined with artistry. The search was not easy. Sometimes I heard reproaches: “You drag ballet into gymnastics, but here you don’t need to show your feelings.”
Semenych taught us to think, to decide something independently at every training session. However, he then recognized improvisation within very specific boundaries. “You first learn, repeat, and then wait for the spark of God,” he told me. And I taught and repeated dozens and hundreds of times.
In March 1956, Larisa won major international competitions in Kyiv, defeating Tamara Manina, Sofya Muratova and Galina Shamray. Behind were Czech Eva Bosakova and Hungarian Agnes Keleti. Moreover, she won the all-around and won on three apparatuses. In May in Baku, L. Latynina won the USSR Cup. This was followed by the USSR Championship and two gold medals for the jump and floor exercise. This meant that the judges liked Larisa’s signature style.
And then December 3, 1956 came. The team consisting of P. Astakhova, L. Kalinina, L. Latynina, T. Manina, S. Muratova, L. Egorova entered the Melbourne Olympic platform. All are Olympic debutantes.
“Do everything as best you can, as you have already done, and you will perform well,” Alexander Semenovich told me. Previously, these words would have sowed a lot of doubts in me, but now experience has already suggested: yes, perhaps this is true. I saw from my training that I did many things no worse than recognized masters.
After two rounds, the best of us, Sonya Muratova, is in third place, and I am in sixth. After the jumps, our team comes out on top and wins by more than a point. Now you can calmly figure out your personal chances - you have a whole day of rest ahead. So, in the all-around, Romanian Elena Leusteanu is in first place. Agnes Keleti, as we expected, let her jumps down - she is in fourth... Sonya is in second place, and I am in third. There are thousandths of points between us and the leader, and Tamara, who is in fifth place, loses to Keleti a little. So, everything is ahead. “Third place is very good for you,” Mishakov told me, “but you still have to hold on.”
“Do everything as you already did,” I repeated to myself before the jump. I don’t know if it was the high automatism of the skill, as I was told later, or something else, but of the entire jump I only remembered landing on the board. I found out later that the score was the highest of the whole day. But then the free ones passed: both Agnes Keleti and I had the largest and equal amounts. I was still unconsciously happy about this victory, and then I realized it as a personal achievement, as an advantage of style. Apparently, during these hours I believed in myself, after the break I performed easily and calmly on the uneven bars and received the highest score for women of all days in Melbourne - 9.6. This gave me a total of second place for Keleti and a silver medal.
So, balance on a beam. It was that moment of the XVI Olympic Games when the calm left me. At first I felt like a enslaved dummy on the beam, and then, when the movements finally gained ease, I thought: don’t fall off, don’t fall off. This is a very bad refrain. Under it you forget about everything else. Well, can an actor ignite the viewer if during a monologue he repeats to himself: “Don’t forget, don’t forget.” He won't forget, but he will be quickly forgotten. After Melbourne I managed to get rid of this refrain. It seemed that not a minute and a half, but an hour and a half passed until I jumped off the log. Here's the score. I don’t have time to perceive it yet, but I understand, since both Lina and Lida kiss and hug me and all the girls run to me, it’s a victory!
On the ship "Georgia" I was presented with a badge and certificate of the Honored Master of Sports of the USSR and a cake. Our delegation was entitled to both for gold medals. The badge is individual, cakes are for everyone who enters the cabin. “Georgia” went on for a long, long time...
I remember many meetings at home, but this first one after my first Olympic Games was especially unexpected. Until those minutes until we landed on the snow-covered Vladivostok shore, we all lived in the world of sports. Whether in the Olympic mixture of peoples, or in our delegation, or in a hall full of spectators, we were still in the familiar environment of people who knew the value of sport, and victories, and defeats. And only here we realized how many people, seemingly uninvolved in sports, were waiting for us, waiting for victory, watching and worrying, being happy and upset.
People met our train from Vladivostok at all stations and at hours when it was time for both us and those who met us to sleep. The train traveled for more than 8 days, and all this time in our compartments, on station platforms, even where the train passed stops and sidings, we felt something incomparably greater than friendly curiosity and attention. We felt recognition, recognition of the people, recognition of a great country.
1957 Larisa Latynina wins the European Cup and wins in all four exercises. In an equal struggle, her new style is established.
Moscow Sports Palace. Here in 1958, the opening of the World Championship was being prepared, the second in a row, in which Latynina was to start. But unlike her first start in 1954, she had to defend the right to be called the best gymnast on the planet. The fight for this title began ahead of time, in December 1957 at the USSR Championship. Larisa loses the competition for the absolute championship to Sofya Muratova. Wins only in floor exercises.
There are things in a woman’s life before which the magic of sports, or art, or the ability to build dams and fly airplanes recedes. Everything is retreating. I'm expecting a baby. It seems that I just entered here, into the green and white building of the clinic on Taras Shevchenko Boulevard. Opposite me is a calm, gray-haired professor.
What are your plans, girl?
What are my plans now? Whatever you say, I will do.
When I wasn’t expecting it, I was going to compete at the World Championships in July.
In July... - the professor thought for a moment and calmly said: - Well, go ahead!
In July, and just not a word to anyone. Commissions and councils will start, they will get scared and they will scare you.
But it’s dangerous, doctor?!
Listen to me girl! I know gymnastics worse than you, of course, but in ballet, let’s say, I’m a famous midwife. And I already understand medicine much better than ballet and gymnastics. I tell you: if you are a brave person, speak out. The child will be healthy, the mother will be happy, the professor will be happy. What else? If you are a coward, sit down and start dying of fear now.
Professor?!
Do you know what doctor Anton Chekhov said? “Where there is art, where there is talent, there is no old age, no loneliness, no illness, and death itself is half there.” Risk? But I tell you that this is only your risk.
I went out and laughed loudly: it could be heard along the entire boulevard. I could now shout out the bells that rang on the nearby five-domed church. Professor, thank you, professor!
“Only you are at risk,” the professor told me then. But is it? There is a huge personal risk. It's scary to think about misfortune. But there is another kind of risk: I am the leader of the team, I will compete last - this is recognition of my class, recognition of my ability to win. And this is trust, which you will think about more than once or twice.
“Larisa Latynina, of course, wants to add the title of world champion to her title of absolute champion of the Olympic Games,” writes Sovetsky Sport. And who doesn't want to? Now, if only one copy of the newspaper would write how to do this.
And here I am standing on the podium. I am awarded the gold medal of the absolute world champion. No, this is not night, not sleepy visions, not a dream: this is reality. There are still apparatus finals ahead. As a team, we won the championship confidently and with a big advantage. I remember how the stands chanted: “Congratulations to Laura, congratulations!” This is not the roar of someone else’s hall, where you need to win support and sympathy. These are our own walls, our own people. It's good to perform at home!
I remember the happy face of Alexander Semenovich Mishakov - the day before Boris Shakhlin became the absolute world champion.
Two absolute world champions - students of one coach - this has never happened in world gymnastics!
I managed to win first places in the vaults and uneven bars.
Congratulating Tamara, who became the world champion in balance beam exercises, she whispered to her:
Tamar, I’m expecting a baby.
“Oh,” Tamara waved her hand, “you’re always coming up with something crazy.”
The professor turned out to be right: my Tanya was born a healthy, active girl. Ten days passed after her birth, I turned 24 years old. I was a happy mother.
What more could you want? I had the highest titles in gymnastics... But all this had already happened. And again I waited, counting on my fingers, how much time would pass when I could once again truly plunge headlong into our bustling, wonderful world of sports. My feet led me to the gym.
Spring came, I said goodbye to the institute. I won’t hide that I was pleased with my diploma with honors.
Ahead was preparation for the Second Spartakiad of the Peoples of the USSR. I was returning. It may be difficult, painful, but I returned.
And now there is a meeting of the coaching council, there is no particular reason for excitement: the Ukrainian team is six people, I should find a place there. A place was found, but I also heard the following comments:
During the entire training camp, I didn’t complete a single combination. Well, Mishakov will have to speak for her in Moscow too?!
In the USSR national team, Polina Astakhova is very strong, Lida Ivanova-Kalinina, who became the USSR champion in 1958, is on the rise. Then, after the championship, a comic impromptu sounded: “We wish Kalinina to win under Latynina.” Well, now it’s easy to win with me. Both Tamara and Sonya are ready to win. Or maybe someone else. Tamara Lyukhina grew up in Voronezh - a thin, petite, chiseled girl.
Moscow, Spartakiad. And I'm fourth again. Not a single gold medal. One silver - in jumping. But I'm happy. Still, I returned. It’s okay that today the absolute champion of the USSR Lina Astakhova is much stronger than me. It’s okay that my old rivals and friends are ahead of me. I didn’t let the Ukrainian team down - second behind Lina. Fourth in the Union, which means again in the national team. So, in the year that separates the Spartakiad from the Olympic Games, will I not be able to improve?
This will be a very difficult year,” Semenych told me thoughtfully then.
“It seemed to many that Larisa would no longer be able to return to trophies in the gymnastics arena” - these are the words from the newspaper. They were written after the Olympic Games in Rome. But they were said before the start of the Games. The Rome Olympics are marked by intense rivalry between two outstanding Soviet gymnasts - Larisa Latynina and Polina Astakhova.
We started with jumping. Sonya has the best score - 9.566. I have 9.533. Lina gets 9.466. After the second event, where Lina, having brilliantly completed the entire combination on the uneven bars, gets 9.8, and I get 9.7, she becomes the leader. Neither before Rome, nor in Rome, nor after Rome did I ever calculate my own and other people’s marks during competitions. If Semenych planned something for himself, he showed me all the notes after the competition: it worked out, it didn’t work out. But when they called the leader’s sum and my next one, there was nothing to count - I lost thirty-three thousandths. And very calmly I went to perform on the balance beam. Here I was “staggered”, and quite rightly, “deductions” followed and the result was 9.366. Then - Lina's excellent performance - 9.5. After we received equal marks for freestyle, it turned out that Astakhova was ahead of me by 177 thousandths, almost two tenths. Is it a lot or a little?
Meanwhile, Boris Shakhlin won another title of absolute Olympic champion in artistic gymnastics. I congratulated Boris and Semenych.
Well,” Alexander Semenovich told me, “tomorrow we will congratulate you.”
Do you still believe?
Do I believe it? Yes, I have it written down in my plan - two absolute Olympic champions. Do you know how plans are drawn up and then approved? Show? You won the world championship in Moscow, which means now you can’t do anything less.
And again jumping. Score 9.433, in one form I win back almost everything she accumulated on the first day from Lina. But the next event is the uneven bars, where Polina was then unsurpassed. Here she returns her one-tenth. Then the log. Boldly forward. And, as always, don’t think about the assessment, don’t think about the danger, don’t think about your rivals. Think about how to perform better, showing everything you can, spiritualizing your skill with feeling.
The result was in accordance with the mood - 9.7.
Polina failed to maintain her balance. She fell and with a score of 8.733 was eliminated from the fight for the championship. Many years later, I say again that I would be truly happy in Rome if we fought with her for absolute primacy on equal terms until the end. This did not happen, and many rushed to say that if not for the fall, Astakhova would have become an Olympic champion. I can say: yes, it very well could happen. But it is very possible that everything would be decided in the latter form.
I was preparing for freestyle, and before my eyes stood the face of Polina, crying on the bench. Many years later, in a very unpleasant conversation, I was told: “Sport has made you cruel.” Cruel? I will never agree with this. Sport has made us unyielding - that's true.
After a moment of weakness, Polina goes out onto the platform and brilliantly performs her floor routine. They applauded and shouted from all the stands. The spotlights illuminating the platform shone in a new way. And at that moment, preparing for my exit, I again did not think about the assessment, I knew: only an accident could now deprive me of the title of absolute champion. An accident is possible, but I won’t even think about taking insurance or being careful. I had to show everything I could, express everything I felt.
One and a half minutes of music, as well as ninety seconds of movements, is probably not enough to leave a very deep impression. And yet, fused together, they can say a lot. In these moments everything depends on you. Don’t think about how to pass the diagonal and get into a standing position, don’t spend the last minutes trying to repeat flies. Think about one thing: how best to convey everything you want to say with your movements, what each of them serves. Then, in Rome, I knew this. I really wanted these freestyle events to become an event not only for me. I started and finished them in one breath. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I meticulously listened to the noise of applause. And even before the judges’ score - 9.9 - I knew: I accomplished what I set out to do.
And here are the results of the absolute championship: I am first, Sonya Muratova is second, Lina Astakhova is third, Rita Nikolaeva is fourth, Lida Ivanova is seventh. A zero score on balance beam set Tamara Lyukhina back a long way, but she also received a gold medal for the team victory. As a team, we beat the Czech girls by almost nine points, and the day of the finals was our day.
The world press was full of enthusiastic responses. Messagero newspaper: “Russian girls collected handfuls of Olympic medals in the Thermal Baths.” “Russian gymnasts are amazing” - a large headline in the Stockholm newspaper Svenska Dagbladet.
"German Olympic Newspaper", on the front page: "Russian gymnasts, as was already the case in Helsinki and Melbourne, turned out to be invincible in Rome. After success in the team competition and triumph in the individual competition in gymnastic all-around, Russian girls in the final competitions on individual apparatus Of the 12 Olympic medals up for grabs, 11 were won.” English newspapers: "Calm gymnasts" of the Soviet Union "dominated the Olympic competitions." “The Soviet gymnasts,” wrote Gianni Rodari in “Paeee Sera,” “gave on television the most beautiful performance of the Olympic Games. We have never seen anything more beautiful than this spectacle of beauty, grace and harmony...” “The Soviet gymnasts swept away all opponents. They they took everything that could be taken and stunned everyone... For the third time in a row, the Soviet Union dominates gymnastics at the Olympics.” A television commentator said: “Gymnastics is a festival of the USSR.”
Look, one effusive fan told me that night, it was phenomenal. Medals rained down on you from the sky, like a good starfall.
No, sir,” I answered, “we get each medal from the sky ourselves.” "Everyone has their own stars."
Possessing all the titles that exist in world artistic gymnastics, being a recognized prima in this sport, L. Latynina for many years could not win the domestic championship of her country - the competition among her friends and rivals was so great. But this tradition was put to an end: in 1961, and then in 1962, Larisa became the absolute champion of the USSR.
In 1961, the European Championship, one of the most prestigious tournaments in the world at that time, was held in the grandiose exhibition hall of the city of Leipzig. L. Latynina won the European Cup and floor exercise. The sporting happiness and its ornaments remained in my memory for the rest of my life: the thunderstorm, the lights that went out during the performance, and the red-crimson roses that were given to the winners in Leipzig.
1962 Prague hosts the World Cup. The third championship of this level for Larisa Latynina. The very fact of holding the largest gymnastics forum in the capital of Czechoslovakia testified to the international recognition of the successes of the gymnasts of this country, and above all Eva Bosakova and Vera Caslavskaya - the main rivals of Larisa Latynina and her teammates.
It was necessary to prove the priority of the Soviet gymnastics school in the most intense struggle.
There are agonizing minutes before the start. Five of our girls will pass the projectile in front of me. I am the leader of the team, the last one is sixth. The first one knows in advance: no chance for personal success, work only for the team. And the second, they think, doesn’t have much of a chance, and neither does the third. That’s why, after coaching reflections, before the competition we find out exactly by the numbers their opinion: who is who on the team.
Finally the first day is over. There is no need to do the arithmetic itself: I am a leader. I win two and a half tenths. Yes, the predictions are coming true: the fight is super intense, nervous... Today the battle has just begun. A day later, in the evening, the palace of thousands will support the leader of the Czechoslovak team with all their might. The hot palms of the fans never tire. It will be hot, hot. Will my gold melt into silver in this heat? By this time we will no longer be able to change anything, we will be witnesses. Interested, worried, squeezing fingers, biting lips witnesses. And we can decide everything in our favor a day earlier. Need to sleep.
The rhythms of Lysenko’s prelude captivated me for so long that, starting to prepare for Prague, I asked our composer-accompanist Yevsey Gdalyevich Vevrik: “Let’s do something new, but in the same rhythm.” It turned out to be impossible to select music for such an order, and then Vevrik composed it. He sighed deeply:
Oh, double responsibility, you don’t have enough classics, and in our Union there are better composers than me. But in general (this is already confided to me), that’s what you need.
I myself saw and heard: “what you need.” When my freestyles ended, I saw the score - 9.9 and quickly glanced at Vevrik. He sat at the instrument, tired, slouched, and his gray hair was visible in the daylight. He smiled happily, slowly.
Thank you, Evsey Gdalyevich.
“Ah,” he waved his hand, “if you knew what I went through.” No, you don’t understand this,” he waved his hand again, weakly, desolately. - I’ll go for a walk and think.
The Prague Championship entered the history of world gymnastics as another triumph for Latynina: she is the absolute world champion (already two times), the USSR team is the first, Larisa is still invincible in her favorite floor exercises. The fact became equally obvious: Vera Caslavska came to world gymnastics seriously and for a long time, which means that in Tokyo (and there were still 2 years left before the Olympics) there was a fierce struggle ahead.
“You know, they’re talking about me,” A.S. once told me in a low voice. Mishakov, - that my ideas are outdated, I imagine gymnastics being yesterday and that I am already a grandfather.
Well, I am the grandmother of our gymnastics.
We understood: when last year Boris Shakhlin lost the title of absolute champion on the last apparatus, some people were openly happy: well, a change of champions, progress. Stop winning with the same things. But that year at the Spartakiad, Boris won again. And I... lost three tenths in the all-around to Sonya Muratova. And she didn’t win a single gold medal on the apparatus.
“You’re a little tired, Larisa,” our doctor Michal Mikhalych said with conviction, coughing delicately.
Tired? Nothing like this. The Spartakiad had just ended, and it was already time to get ready for a long journey. In Brazil, in the city of Porto Allegro, the World Universiade. For some people I may be the grandmother of Russian gymnastics, but I have not yet turned twenty-nine years old, I am a graduate student and must compete in student competitions.
After the Universiade, I was dissuaded from going to Japan. Michal Mikhalych is leaning over my cardiogram with concern. Extrasystole. In Russian: heart failure. This is not the first time I have experienced them. Before the European Cup, I went for a consultation with Professor Letunov.
“We need to go to the hospital for a month,” Serafim Petrovich looked at me through thick glasses very angrily. He knew very well that I would not go to the hospital. We agreed: it would be enough to drink calcium chloride every day. I left a large bottle of this drug in a Moscow hotel. And now this extrasystole is happening again.
Go for a consultation!
I go to the third (“decisive”) floor of the Central Council and say: “It will be a big mistake if a year before the Olympic Games we leave our opponents in Tokyo without competition!”
Offers?
Go to Tokyo!
And I'm going. And the extrasystole does not prevent me from winning the all-around, floor and balance beam. This is the Japanese Open Championship, I become the absolute champion of the Land of the Rising Sun.
However, all thoughts are about the Olympics, which will take place here in Tokyo, but in a year.
Later, when they showed me the workload records from 1964, it turned out that before Tokyo I had done almost twice as much work as usual. But fitness has never been measured solely by physical fitness. The psychological climate before Tokyo created the mood: we need to catch up. It seemed, why? After all, I was the official leader. Vera Caslavska has not won a single competition against me yet, including the last one in Japan.
Before the start of the competition, the determination of the order of our performance by apparatus clearly stated: the coaches believe that there are two leaders in the team - Lina Astakhova and me. The time has passed when the struggle for primacy was our internal matter. It was useless to fight our opponent in tandem: we just lacked those hundredths that add up to tenths, and we lost six of them, which are given to one, only one leader. Once again I want to say that either Lina or I could be such a leader. Who exactly - the coaches had to decide. Some of us would undoubtedly be offended. But someone might be able to win the overall champion medal. After all, even with the balance of power that was adopted, we lost a little. In the overall championship, this time we were destined for second and third places.
Yes, we lost to Vera Cheslavskaya. And they lost to a worthy opponent.
“On the podium, every step is honorable.” I was able to perform almost exactly the same as in Rome on all the apparatuses: uneven bars - second, beam - second, vault - third.
Polina Astakhova became the Olympic champion on uneven bars. Before the freestyle events that took place on the last day, I knew: here, too, everything would be decided a little bit. Let someone accuse me of insincerity, but while thinking about victory, I did not think about the gold medal. After all, I have already won it and the most honorable one - together with the team. But I needed victory: I simply did not have the right to end the Olympic journey with defeat. And not only me: before the last hours of the competition, we were still eleven and a half points behind the American delegation in the unofficial team competition. Points, medals: boring arithmetic of sports. But just because someone from the outside finds it boring, you can’t abolish it. Then it turned out that after Polina and I won medals, it was necessary for boxer Boris Lagutin to win in the final, and the delegation came out on top.
Ah, arithmetic! Well, not only arithmetic... The Times wrote in those days about the freemen: “In the life of every person there are several moments of such beauty that cause tears and tightness in the chest. It could be a sunset in the mountains, a painting, some kind of musical excerpt, this may be one of those rare moments when sport suddenly becomes an art form.
We experienced one such moment here in Tokyo, when Latynina charmed us with her floor exercises. At this moment, she was not just a great gymnast. She was the embodiment of youth, beauty and brilliance."
“Latynina remains in our memory. Now she is 29 years old, perhaps we will never see her like this again. But it is moments like the ones she gave us this evening that give rise to eternal hopes.”
To this day, Larisa Latynina remains the only gymnast who managed to win gold medals in floor exercises at three Olympics in a row - in Melbourne (1956), Rome (1960) and Tokyo (1964) and the only winner of 18 Olympic medals in the entire history of the Olympic Games. medals, of which 9 are gold.
And then the moment came when my hopes began to become less and less connected with big-time gymnastics. Back in 1962, before Prague, I laughed and drove away the thought of parting with sports, thinking that oh, how far, far away it is until the moment of farewell. No one on our team had such a thought. But then 1964 passed, and our miracle team was no more. Lida Ivanova and Ira Pervushina also left for Tokyo (both with knee injuries). After Tokyo, Sonya Muratova, Tamara Manina, Tamara Lyukhina said goodbye to gymnastics. And what’s really strange is that those young people who added to our team in Tokyo, Lyusya Gromova and Lena Volchetskaya, also left gymnastics.
On a January day in 1965, I was waiting in front of the Sports Palace for Alexander Semenovich, and my thoughts were completely sad. I recently lost the USSR championship here to a 15-year-old girl, Larisa Petrik. And what’s surprising: I’m twice her age.
I am preparing to compete at the 1965 European Championships. And it brings me second places. Five silver medals. I won against Larisa Petrik, as Mishakov predicted, and first place again went to Chaslavskaya. And this time without any “buts”. She's stronger, that's all. Then the autumn of the same year in Mexico City, when I finally realized: I wouldn’t make it to the Olympics. And if so, it was necessary to outline our final frontier. And I outlined it: September 1966, the World Championships in Dortmund.
I have been asked questions more than once: “Have you ever had a desire to leave earlier, undefeated, or after your last success in Tokyo?” And I, without any hesitation, answered: “No. I never connected my gymnastics only with victories. If a strong rival had appeared earlier and beat me in 1960 or 1962, would I really have had to leave? who did I beat? When an athlete tries to leave undefeated, although he can still give something to the sport, to people, he retreats. Outwardly, this is courage - he left in the prime of his life. Essentially, this is cowardice: he is afraid to lose. I lost both in Tokyo and in Sofia. I knew very well that I would not win in Dortmund, but I also knew something else: I had enough strength to perform for the team! Unfortunately, in a bitter struggle we lost to the Czechoslovakian team by only thirty-eight thousandths! Sport teaches not only to win. .. He also teaches how to lose.
In the overall championship, Vera Chaslavska and Natalya Kuchinskaya fought for the victory. However, here too the Czechoslovakian gymnast turned out to be stronger. In some events, the score changed in favor of Kuchinskaya - she won three gold medals. At seventeen years old, no one before her had known such a phenomenal rise in gymnastics.
In 1966, Larisa Latynina finally ended her career as a gymnast, and the very next year she received an offer to become the senior coach of the USSR national team. The beginning of her coaching work coincided with the difficult times of Soviet women's gymnastics: positions in the team and absolute championships were lost, and the painful process of forming essentially a new team was going on.
It included four gymnasts who performed in Dortmund: Natalya Kuchinskaya, Larisa Petrik, Zinaida Voronina and Olga Karaseva (Kharlova). The main hopes were pinned on them, who had already “sniffed the gunpowder” of international competitions. However, very young gymnasts were also included in the team: 16-year-old Lyudmila Turishcheva and 15-year-old Lyubov Burda. They were seen on the platforms of Leningrad, Gorky, Budapest, Bucharest, Paris... And everywhere their main rivals remained Czechoslovakian gymnasts.
Before the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, the task was to achieve victory in the team competition. The fight turned out to be difficult, the debutants of the national team made mistakes. But the task was solved: a small advantage was gained in the compulsory program, which was maintained in the free program.
Happy Mexico City! Six girls from the Soviet Union return the title of Olympic champions to our country. We won, and then not very many in the delegation could say it. They congratulated me and talked about the youngest winning team in the history of gymnastics. Yes, the average age of our team is eighteen years. You can think about the long-term perspective, about what each person will add to their skills, and after Mexico City the whole team will become cemented and hardened even more... Our “miracle team” of 1956-1962 was already visible in our eyes.
It seemed that there was every reason to build on the success achieved at the Olympics next year. However, the illness of N. Kuchinskaya, forced breaks in training by L. Petrik and Z. Voronina again put the USSR national team in difficult conditions. As a result, at the European Championships in Landskrona, the GDR athletes captured the championship, and 17-year-old Karin Janz confidently took the place of the new leader in European gymnastics. She won four of the five gold medals. Comparing with this the achievements of O. Karaseva (gold and silver medals) and L. Turishcheva (bronze medals), one could come to pessimistic conclusions.
However, Larisa Latynina believed in her charges. She could not agree with the opinion of experts who, after the defeat in Landskrona, hastened to declare Janz's performance a style to which the future belongs. Her impeccable technical perfection, the accentuated complexity of the program, in Larisa Semyonovna’s opinion, still could not serve as a model, and the statements that Janz “soon and very soon” would be unattainable were too categorical. The leadership of the Soviet team was convinced that the team had taken the right course and that soon our gymnasts would join the cohort of the strongest.
After Mexico City, the Soviet team actually became the strongest in the world. Formally, it was necessary to return the title of champions at the next world championship in Ljubljana. By this time, Lyudmila Turishcheva and Lyubov Burda had emerged as leaders in the team, and the only addition to the team was 16-year-old Tamara Lazakovich. Zinaida Voronina also continued to perform.
The gymnasts were given a fundamentally important task: to regain absolute primacy. Events showed that she was up to the task of the new team leader, Lyudmila Turishcheva. She won in a fierce competition with famous German gymnasts Karin Janz and Erika Zuchold. Zinaida Voronina also performed well, taking third place in the all-around, uneven bars and floor exercises.
In 1971, at the European Championships in Minsk, yesterday’s debutant of the national team, Tamara Lazakovich, took first place in domestic, European and world gymnastics. Together with Lyudmila Turishcheva, they shared all the gold and silver awards of the championship.
On the eve of the XX Olympic Games in Munich, the USSR national team once again became rejuvenated. According to the results of the qualifying competitions, the experienced Larisa Petrik, Zinaida Voronina and Olga Karaseva retreated before the onslaught of the young Olga Korbut, Antonina Koshel and Elvira Saadi. These changes were clearly beneficial: the Soviet team won team gold, Lyudmila Turishcheva became the absolute champion, and in apparatus exercises the same L. Turishcheva, as well as T. Lazakovich and O. Korbut reigned supreme.
1974 World Championships in Varna (Bulgaria). The team performed brilliantly, winning 5 gold (team, L. Turishcheva - all-around, balance beam and floor exercise, O. Korbut - jump), 5 silver (4 of them - O. Korbut and one - L. Turishcheva) and 4 bronze (L. Turishcheva, N. Kim, E. Saadi, R. Sikharulidze) medals.
During the 1973-1974 competition, we were constantly expecting an attack on the leaders' positions. Anyone who analyzes the development paths of world gymnastics must be aware: leaders who have gone far ahead are being caught up with redoubled persistence. Fashion in gymnastics is dictated by those who are not satisfied with the models of today. A clear example of this was the tenth European Championship in Norway. These competitions were marked by a major success for the young Romanian gymnast Nadia Comaneci. Unfortunately, Lyudmila Turishcheva turned out to be unprepared for the intense struggle.
However, it would be very unwise to talk about Comaneci’s victory as an accident. The achievements of the Romanian gymnast are the fruit of thoughtful and very purposeful preparation. Despite her incomplete 14 years, it was she who said a new word in gymnastics in 1975.
At the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, the rivalry between gymnasts was fiercer than ever. For the USSR national team, of course, the main task was to continue the tradition of victories in the team championship. Having won in Montreal, the team of Soviet gymnasts set a kind of unofficial record for the Olympic Games. The fact is that not a single team in any sport managed to win seven times in a row in the post-war Olympic cycle.
Nadia Comaneci became the Olympic champion in all-around.
In apparatus exercises under the classification conditions in force at that time, Soviet gymnasts won 8 medals out of 12 possible: 3 gold - one team, two - N. Kim (vault, floor exercise), 4 silver - L. Turishcheva (vault, floor exercise), O. Korbut (beam exercise), N. Kim (all-around), bronze - L. Turishcheva (all-around) and scored about 74 percent of the possible points. An undoubted success. But...
Big sport often means big intrigue. This cup did not pass over Larisa Semyonovna either. After Montreal, she was accused of the fact that our gymnasts lost the absolute championship to the Romanian athlete. They said: they say, gymnastics is no longer the same, Latynina preaches femininity, but we need tricks, speed and complex elements... In 1977, tired of undeserved reproaches coming from sports officials, Larisa Semyonovna, not seeing any further opportunity to work in such conditions, submitted her resignation from coaching.
For four years L.S. Latynina worked on the Organizing Committee of the Olympics-80, where she oversaw the preparation and holding of gymnastics competitions. After her usual coaching work, she mastered a new field for herself: she dealt with the construction and equipment of gymnastics halls, providing athletes with uniforms and the necessary equipment, etc., represented the organizing committee at all the largest international gymnastics competitions held in those years, including championships world and Europe.
Then she worked at the Moscow Sports Committee, and for 10 years she was the senior coach of the Moscow gymnastics team. Over these years, the capital's gymnasts won the Spartakiad of the Peoples of the USSR and the USSR Cup.
In 1990 L.S. Latynina worked at the Physical Culture and Health Charity Foundation, which was headed by the Honored Master of Sports, three-time Olympic champion Tamara Press; until 1992, Larisa Semyonovna was the deputy director of the Foundation. In 1997-1999, she worked as Deputy General Director of the Russian-German joint venture Hephaestus. From 1991 to the present, she is a member of the bureau of the Union of Athletes of Russia.
L.S. Latynina - Honored Master of Sports (1957), Honored Trainer of the USSR (1969), Honored Worker of Physical Culture of the Russian Federation (1997). She was awarded the Order of Lenin (1957), the Order of Friendship of Peoples (1980), three orders of the Badge of Honor (1960, 1969, 1972), the Order of Honor (2001), and medals. For outstanding services, the President of the International Olympic Committee, Juan Antonio Samaranch, presented L.S. Latynina with the Silver Order of the International Olympic Committee in 1991. The "children's" branch of UNESCO - UNICEF - awarded Latynina the "Golden Tuning Fork". The name of Larisa Latynina is included in the unique list of athletes in New York - the “Olympic Hall of Fame”. In 2000, at the Olympic Ball, in the category “The Best Athletes of Russia of the 20th Century,” she was included in this magnificent ten, and according to a survey of the world’s leading sports journalists, Latynina, along with Alexander Karelin, was named among the 25 outstanding athletes of the century.
Peru L.S. Latynina owns the books “Sunny Youth” (in Ukrainian, 1958), “Balance” (1970, 1975), “What is the name of this girl” (1974), “Gymnastics through the years” (1977), “Team” (1977). She was published in the magazines “Ogonyok”, “Znamya”, “Theater”, “Physical Education and Sports”, “Sports Life of Russia”, and took part in television programs.
I've been through a lot. She was married twice. But in the end I was lucky, I met Yura.
Yuri Izrailovich Feldman - Doctor of Science, professor, academician, worked as the general director of the Dynamo plant, and is now an adviser to the general director of the Dynamo Joint-Stock Electrical Engineering Company. We have complete mutual understanding and common interests. For example, all my life I have loved working with flowers. When the house was built, the opportunity arose to create a winter garden. And my husband also fell ill with this passion. He will go into a flower shop, see some handsome guy with silky leaves and take him home. One day I was in the hospital. Yura bought a palm tree, put it in the winter garden, photographed it and brought it to me: “So that she doesn’t miss home...” And we met thanks to the same sport. Yura is a former cyclist; he raced at the same time as the Olympic champion of Rome, Viktor Kapitonov. It so happened that in 1985 we vacationed together in the Moscow region, at the Voronovo holiday home. My future husband once invited me to play tennis, and when he found out that I could not hold a racket in my hands, he invited me to learn this game and train with him on the tennis court. Since then, tennis has become a serious hobby for both of us.
We got married in the Church of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary on the territory of the Dynamo plant. Yura, while still the chief engineer of the plant, took an active part in the restoration of this church.
The married couple Larisa Latynina and Yuri Feldman have another common hobby. Since her youth, Larisa Semyonovna has loved to sing, and Yuri Izrailovich in his student years was the soloist of the popular vocal and instrumental ensemble “Seekers”. Nowadays they sing duets, often romances, which bring them untold joy. For several years they have been playing tennis and billiards together.
In the early 1990s, L. Latynina and Y. Feldman received a plot of land of 12 acres and began building their own house. Subsequently, they were lucky enough to rent almost 3 more hectares. Now there is everything you need for life and what you could only dream of before: a man-made pond, a tennis court, greenhouses and a backyard farm where their many pets live - the cow Malyshka, the bull Bourgeois, the heifer Mike, the horses Nochka and Zvezdochka, goats , turkeys, chickens, seven cats, a huge Caucasian shepherd named Lott... The couple planted an orchard (more than a hundred roots), and recently planted an entire pine forest. Larisa Semyonovna grows flowers, does not shy away from any kind of gardening and gardening work that she has been accustomed to since childhood, and takes care of animals. They are helped in this by family friends - Anatoly and his wife Valentina.
Yu.I.’s son settled down with them. Feldman Sergei with his wife Irina and grandson Yura, as well as her husband’s brother Yakov Izrailevich.
I once had the idea of sending my daughter Tanya to ballet. But I didn’t dare. Tanyusha attended the rhythmic gymnastics section for two months, then did diving, and did well, until she developed middle ear inflammation. In the end, I sent her to Moses School. After graduating, Tanya danced for 15 years in the Beryozka ensemble. She traveled all over the world, and on tour in Venezuela she met her future husband, Rostislav Ordovsky-Tanaevsky Blanco.
At first I was categorically against it. The husband is a foreigner! But did they ask me? The only reassuring thing was that Rostislav had Russian roots. His great-grandfather was the governor of Tobolsk. In 1918, he and his family left for Yugoslavia. Rostislav’s father was born there, who, despite the fact that he lived far from his homeland, spoke excellent Russian and knew our history and literature. He taught his son his native language, although Rostislav is half Spanish and was born in Venezuela.
The ironic Larisa Semyonovna likes to call herself “the grandmother of Russian gymnastics.” However, fresh thoughts about the social role of sport, about the ways of development of her favorite gymnastics give the right to call Latynina a poet, a romantic of the wonderful world of movements. She was recently named to the Board of Trustees of the World Latin Dance Cup.
L.S. Latynina is akin in spirit and in thought to the poetry of S. Yesenin, F. Tyutchev, I. Brodsky. She prefers Rachmaninov's music. Highlights outstanding ballet masters - M. Plisetskaya, U. Lopatkina, R. Nuriev, M. Baryshnikov. For more than 30 years, she has been friends with the soloists of the ballet of the K.S. Stanislavsky and V.I. Nemirovich-Danchenko Galina Savarina and Mikhail Salop. Her other hobbies include painting and theater. She is a fan of the works of T. Shmyga, O. Ostroumova, L. Guzeeva, V. Gaft, A. Mironov. He considers “Cruel Romance” and “Gone with the Wind” to be his favorite films.
Larisa Semyonovna Latynina is a star of world gymnastics. During her life she won 18 Olympic medals, of which 9 were gold, 5 silver, 4 bronze. Honored Master of Sports, Honored Trainer of the USSR. Absolute champion of the Olympic Games in 1956 and 1960.
Brief biography of Larisa Latynina
Larisa was born on December 27, 1934 in Ukraine in the city of Kherson. When the war began, her father, Semyon Andreevich Diriy, went to the front. He died in the Battle of Stalingrad. The mother was a simple working woman, her name was Pelageya Anisimovna Barabanyuk.
Since childhood, Larisa Latynina dreamed of becoming a ballerina, and when a choreographic studio opened, her mother used her last money to enroll her daughter in her. The fee for classes was very high - 150 rubles, which was half of Pelageya Anisimovna’s earnings. In the ballet studio, the girl showed herself to be a very hardworking, artistic and talented student. But a few years later the studio closed and then Larisa chose her life’s work - gymnastics. In 1950, she completed the first category and, as part of a national team of Ukrainian schoolchildren, went to the All-Union Championship in Kazan, although Laura did not bring any medals from there. After that, she began to train with renewed energy and already in the 9th grade she fulfilled the standard of a master of sports.
“Teach an athlete to fight to the end for any place, and he will be able to fight for first.” L.Latynina
In 1953, Larisa graduated from school with a gold medal, and almost simultaneously, Moscow sent her a call to attend an all-Union sports training camp. She passed the decisive control qualifying competitions with dignity and soon received the coveted blue woolen suit with the letters “USSR”. Then the big victories began. In 1954, at the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships in Rome, the USSR women's team won first place, and Larisa Latynina received the first gold medal as a world champion.
to this day, Larisa remains the only gymnast who managed to win gold medals in floor exercises at three Olympics in a row - in Melbourne (1956), Rome (1960) and Tokyo
(1964) - and the only winner in the entire history of the Olympic Games of 18 Olympic medals, of which 9 are gold.
In 2000, at the Olympic Ball in the category “The Best Athletes of Russia of the 20th Century,” Latynina was included in this magnificent ten, and according to a survey of the world’s leading sports journalists, she was named among the 25 outstanding athletes of the century.
Interesting facts from the life of Larisa Semyonovna Latynina
— In 1958, at the World Championships, while five months pregnant, she won 5 gold medals
- the most titled athlete in the world until 2012
- won all the gold medals at the 1957 European Artistic Gymnastics Championships
- nine-time Olympic champion
- after her sports career she became a coach and under her leadership the team became the gold medalist of the Olympic Games three times (1968, 1972, 1976)
— having returned from the Olympics in Melbourne, where she managed to win 4 gold medals, she immediately gave one of them to her first coach, Mikhail Afanasyevich Sotnichenko. Latynina believed that if it weren’t for him, she would not have had any medals at all. And the coach kept it all his life. And after his death, his wife returned the award to Larisa.
“Well, can an actor ignite the viewer if during a monologue he repeats to himself: “Don’t forget, don’t forget.” He won’t forget, but he will be quickly forgotten.” L. Latynina
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