AP News, September 2nd, 2007
The Americans were already planning a little party back at the hotel to celebrate Shayla Worley's 17th birthday. That, though, seemed a tad tame.
So they invited a few thousand of their closest friends to join in on the fun, turning the world gymnastics championships into their very own bash.
"There's no better gift than to be able to compete at a world championships on your birthday," Worley said. "Well, maybe competing at the Olympics. We'll have to work on that for next year."
China, Romania, Russia _ the rest of the gymnastics world can consider itself warned. The Americans aren't the same team that gave away the gold medal at last year's worlds. They're deep, they're confident and, man, are they good.
After the other top teams scuffled through qualifying, the Americans put on a near-perfect show Sunday night. They had only three notable errors in 20 routines, posted three of the top eight individual scores and finished with 245.025 points, almost four points ahead of China.
Exactly how big is that margin? Think of Georgia Tech's 33-3 victory over Notre Dame on Saturday, and you get the picture.
"I'm very pleased with the way they did everything," said a beaming Martha Karolyi, the national team coordinator not known for lavish praise. "Except the (falls on) two uneven bars dismounts. Those were unexpected and those will definitely be addressed tomorrow."
China, the defending gold medalist, was second in qualifying. The Romanians, rejuvenated by the return of triple Olympic gold medalist Catalina Ponor, were third. Russia, last year's bronze medalist, was fourth.
The eight teams in Wednesday's finals start fresh, and the stakes get a lot higher. Instead of tossing out the lowest of five scores, teams have to bet it all. It's three gymnasts on each event, and all three scores count.
Mess it up, and you can kiss that gold medal goodbye _ which is exactly what the Americans did last year, finishing behind China after leading qualifying.
"We set a standard last year, and we got a little disappointed," said Alicia Sacramone, who along with Nastia Liukin are the only holdovers from last year's world team. "So we're just going to do our job. But I think everybody will have a little disappointment if we don't taste that gold."
They could have a steady diet of it if they keep performing the way they did Sunday.
Liukin and new national champion Shawn Johnson are both threats in the all-around, and at least one American qualified for every event final. If not for the rule limiting countries to two gymnasts in the eight-person event finals, the United States could have had four going for beam medals alone.
Indeed, it was the balance beam that set the tone for the entire night. Beam is gymnastics' version of a torture chamber, a slab of wood and foam that's only four inches wide _ about the size of a videotape _ and four feet off the ground. All but the very best gymnasts in the world wobbled, bobbled and wiggled their way across it, just hoping to get through without a major error.
Not the Americans. They put up one world-class routine after another, not counting a score below 15.775. Compare that with the Chinese, one of the best beam teams in the world, who had only one score above 15.775.
"It is great satisfaction to see finally that the U.S.A. can prove we can be good on the beam," Karolyi said.
Liukin has been hobbled by an ankle injury for much of the last year. A setback earlier in the summer kept her from being in top form at the national championships two weeks ago, and she wasn't even sure if she'd be able to compete for the all-around in Germany.
But the extra two weeks made a huge difference. She began her beam routine with a handstand, unfurling her legs slowly until she was doing the splits upside down. She was so graceful it was easy to forget the difficulty of her tricks, and she powered through them with nary a second thought. Her execution score of 9.475 was the highest on that event.
"I'm so excited to finally be back and feel like myself again," Liukin said.
Following right behind was Johnson, the spitfire who has won every competition she's been in this year. She cruises across the beam as if it's as wide as a tarmac, tumbling with greater ease than most people have putting one foot in front of the other. Her score of 16.250 was the same as Ponor, the reigning Olympic gold medalist on the event.
"Behind the scenes, everyone was a little nervous to start on beam," Sacramone said. "After the beam's done, there was a little bit of a deep breath."
And the party was on.
The Americans rocked the arena with their floor routines _ sassy, saucy numbers that actually gave one of the Italian gymnasts goosebumps. Johnson opened her routine with two twisting back flips, landing so solidly she sent a puff of chalk flying into the air. Her tumbling passes were so high, you could have driven a Volkswagen Beetle beneath her.
But the best came from Sacramone, who had a little something to prove after feeling as if she was cheated out of a second straight floor title last year. She was given a half-point deduction for a small stop during a dance move _ a technicality that not even all the judges really agreed upon. That kept her out of event finals, and there was no way she was going to miss out again this year.
Her 90-second dose of attitude _ the hip shakes a little more pronounced, the jumps a little higher and that strut off the mat past the judges table, complete with a wink toward her coach on the sideline _ sent an unmistakable message.
"It was definitely a redemption routine to go out there and say, `This is for last year. This is what was supposed to happen. This is how I can do it,'" said Sacramone, whose 15.275 was the second-highest score on the event.
"I didn't want to do anything too drastic, so I just did a little strut by and let that be it."
After holding their own on vault, the Americans wrapped up the day on uneven bars. It was the only time they looked beatable, with Johnson and Worley both falling on their dismounts. Worley stumbled backward, while Johnson landed hers on her knees.
It was a rare mistake for Johnson _ the first time, in fact, her coach had ever seen her do that.
"From doing that, it'll make me go back and work harder," Johnson said, "go back and do it right next time."
Liukin needs no do-over.
She was gorgeous, flitting between the two bars like a bird, her legs so straight you could level something with them. She had struggled with her somersaulting, twisting dismount at nationals, but there was no problem Sunday. She hit the mat with an authoritative thud, then turned to her father and coach, Valeri, with a big smile.
She was greeted with a bearhug by her father when she climbed off the podium, then traded high-fives and fist bumps with her rowdy teammates.
"We didn't want to start off absolutely perfect," Worley said. "We've got room to go up now."
One party down, one more to go.
