Future Of Women's Gymnastics: Powell, Grinning And Winning

News flash. The winner of yesterday's McDonald's American Cup gymnastics competition likes what she's doing. Her smile is natural, not forced.

She is happy that she won, not relieved that another event is over. She is winning, but more important, 15-year-old Kristy Powell is grinning.

Women's gymnastics has taken its share of deserved hits in recent years.

The death of Christy Henrich, of complications from an eating disorder, and the autocratic practices of some of its most infamous coaches cast a serious cloud over the sport.

I still remember the tears of a distraught Kim Zmeskal mirrored against the disgust of her coach Bela Karolyi, after she finished out of medal contention at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

Life is short in women's gymnastics; shorter probably than any other sport. The years flip past like pages rippled in the wind. They pass too quickly, not to be enjoyed.

Powell, a former member of Karolyi's unstable stable, is showing us that winning and laughing can co-exist.

"We're doing gymnastics in a positive way," Powell said, hugging her crystal trophy and bouquet of flowers. "I think our sport needs more happier people. We've had so much criticism about how robotic we are and the Christy Henrich thing. We need a positive approach."

A star was born at the Seattle Arena yesterday. Powell has emerged from the large shadows cast by Shannon Miller and Dominque Dawes and is a genuine Olympic contender in 1996.

"In our mind, we've had a star for a while, but I think in the media's eye, yes, a star was born today," Tom Forster, her coach, said.

This year's cup was missing some of the sport's biggest stars. Mo Huilan and Dawes were absent. And Miller was eliminated in Thursday's preliminaries.

Still, this is the year's most prestigious international event in the United States and by far the most important result of Powell's burgeoning career.

Powell is part woman and part child; part hard-nosed competitor, part giggly teenager.

She is as bright as the braces on her teeth and full of hope. She is as charismatic as a movie star. She has the right stuff.

"She's so bubbly," Forster said. "I can't think of a time when she's come to practice depressed, or mopey. She's very excited every day. She's very unique, because she's very mature and yet she's real childlike because she sees fun and good in everything."

Powell always has had the talent. She has the balance of a Wallenda and the fearlessness of a test pilot.

But her confidence has faded in and out. When she left Texas and Karolyi, she was a 13-year-old burnout - too serious, too tired, too unhappy to continue.

"I was in more of a negative atmosphere in Texas and things weren't going too well," Powell said. "I just wasn't happy. I wanted to leave. I came pretty close to quitting for good, but when I took a few months off, I missed it a lot. So I knew I wanted to get back in it, but I didn't know where it would take me."

It took her to Tom and Lori Forster and Colorado Aerials in Colorado Springs.

"I watched a couple of workouts and decided this was where I wanted to be," Powell said. "They let you laugh in the gym. If you make a mistake in practice, they let you know it's not the competition and you can smile and still feel good about yourself."

The Forsters' philosophy is simple. Instead of building an assembly line that stamps out Stepford-like zombies, they've created an atmosphere that lets the gymnasts be themselves.

Instead of squelching creativity, they encourage it. They treat the athletes as people, not talented lab rats. Practices still last anywhere from five to seven hours, but they aren't as punishing as some death march.

"I don't think we're the best. I just think we're different," Forster said. "I don't think there is only one way to coach. I hope we're proving that there isn't just one way.

"Children are different. In our program, each child has the freedom to be herself. We have three top-level kids (Doni Thompson, Theresa Kulikowski and Powell) and they're all different.

"We allow them to be different. It's harder. Our way is harder. It's much harder to allow a lot of emotion. We have to deal with it every day and that's pretty hard."

They've turned Powell's life around. They've given her back her personality. And rediscovered her confidence.

"When she came to us, we didn't know how burned out she was," 35-year-old Forster said. "But after the first few days I knew she was serious about competing. She wanted to have fun. She wanted to enjoy gymnastics."

The sport needs a success story like Powell's. Winning doesn't have to come with such a severe psychological price tag. Gymnastics can be hard work, without being all work.

Winning and grinning. Not a bad concept. Want to comment or pass on an idea? You can contact Steve Kelley by voice mail at 464-2176.