The Score is just a number
Many people have asked me how I became interested in men’s gymnastics. Unlike many people who follow men’s gymnastics, I have never been a gymnast, coach, or parent of a gymnast (although I have been asked if my grandson competes.)
This is my story.
In August of 2004, I happened to turn on the TV to watch the Olympics and caught the latter half of Paul Hamm’s comeback from falling on vault to winning the All-Around Gold. I knew nothing about men’s gymnastics, but as I watched Hamm hit parallel bars and then do what was probably the high bar routine of his life, I knew I was watching something special. Joy poured off the screen as Hamm finally realized he’d actually won.
I searched online for more information about men’s gymnastics and found online communities where fans passionately discussed the sport. Most of the discussion was about the women, but there was enough about the men’s side to hold my attention.
Fast forward to 2008. Paul Hamm was competing at Winter Cup to attempt his comeback trail towards Beijing. So I went. When Steven Legendre tumbled on floor, the people next to me looked stunned. One said “I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” (My guess is it was the Hypolito). I still knew next to nothing about the technical aspects of the sport. Based on the reaction of the audience, I sought out a video of the routine. I couldn’t stop watching it. I couldn’t tell you why.
That spring, the Gymnastics Coaching Blog had a post about the NCAA Men’s Gymnastics Championships being held at Stanford, which is close to where I live. So I went. Before that, I was barely aware of men’s college gymnastics. I attended UC Berkeley during the Hal Frey years and didn’t even know Cal had a team.
Long story short. I was hooked. The final was incredibly exciting. Stanford was expected to win, but Oklahoma pulled ahead in the last rotation to win by a fraction of a point. The next day even finals were held, where Legendre won floor and vault. Something told me he was going to have a story. I sensed he had an immense will to win, and would do whatever it took to improve constantly.
I’ve been to every NCAA Men’s Gymnastics Championships since then except 2009 and the COVID year. I’ve also been to multiple Worlds.
I knew by then that men’s NCAA gymnastics was in trouble. I pondered what could be done to save it. The main answer I came up with involved money. So when California announced in 2011 that it was cutting its men’s gymnastics team (along with four other teams), I was ready.
The Chancellor initially said some ridiculous number of dollars (the amount later went way down) would be needed because all of the teams would come back or none of them would. I went to the corner store and bought lottery tickets. I’m still trying.
One Sunday my husband and I were hiking in what is now Pinnacles National Park. I got to a point in the trail where there was a passage with nothing between me and a sheer cliff but a railing. I hate heights. I wanted to turn around, which would mean a long hike back to the beginning. I went back and forth with my husband. I told him I would go through the passage if he agreed to donate a lot more to Cal than my initial pledge. He probably thought I would chicken out, so he agreed. I went through it.
That evening, a representative from Cal Gymnastics Forever called. I had some good news for him. I’ve been a financial supporter of Cal men’s gymnastics ever since. I figured it was like football where donors have to pay to get good seats. For men’s NCAA gymnastics, I was going to have to pay if I wanted any seat.
Cal men’s gymnastics finished fourth in the NCAA Gymnastics Championships that year, with Dennis Mannhart competing while on crutches (he did pommels, dismounted, and grabbed his crutches), as everyone thought it might be the last time California would field a men’s gymnastics team in the NCAA.
Cal men’s gymnastics was reinstated (along with baseball, rugby, women’s lacrosse, and women’s gymnastics) in May 2011.
Notice what’s not in any part of this story? The numbers used in the scoring. I honestly can’t remember the exact scores for any of the key parts of this story.
I like the open-ended scoring a lot. As someone who (still) only knows fragments of the code of points, I make heavy use of the numbers to follow the action and reconstruct the storylines of the meets. Check out the posts on this blog for many examples. It helps me to see the D and E breakdown. If I’m confused about what vault someone did, I look at the D score and I can figure it out. I know that Greenville is executing as well or better than Stanford because the E scores tell me that.
What is in this story?
Television. The story started when I randomly tuned into a gymnastics competition. I don’t think anyone denies television helps grow a sport. That said, my men’s NCAA gymnastics fandom was set in motion by a blog post. Also, I was given a printed rotation schedule when I bought my 2008 NCAA Championships program. I knew where to look when. I often wonder if my fandom might not have blossomed without that piece of paper (probably, but it sure did help!).
The Olympics. The way most people are exposed to televised gymnastics is still the Olympics. Despite the use of open-ended scoring, Olympic gymnastics is one of the most watched Olympic sports. When I bring friends to meets they ask who might be or has been in the Olympics. A big part of my fandom is being able to follow the storylines of athletes through the NCAA, USAG competitions, Worlds, and the Olympics. This is made easier by the scoring system and basic format are mostly the same for all of them.
Other people. If I had to point to one make or break element in my interest in gymnastics in general and men’s gymnastics in particular, I would choose other people, in the form of online communities, the people whose reactions I saw when they watched Steven Legendre at Winter Cup, and the many people I have met over the years because we shared a passion for men’s gymnastics.
Stories. Paul Hamm had a story. Steven Legendre had a story. There are so many stories. Sports are about stories and, most of all, sharing them with other people.
The numbers used in the scoring are like words in a story, which brings me to the graph at the top of this post. The words below the graph are އެންމެ ފަސޭހައިން ވިސްނޭ ބަހަކީ ކުރިން އެނގޭ ބަހެވެ., Dhivehi (the language of the Maldives) for “The easiest language to understand is the one you already know.” The reason it looks like gibberish to most people reading this blog isn’t because it’s “confusing” or “inherently impossible for most people to ever learn”, it’s because most of you didn’t grow up in the Maldives. If you did, those words might be the only thing on this page you do understand. I “grew up” with open-ended scoring, as did all the male gymnasts currently competing.
The graph at the top of this post shows that the vast majority of men’s NCAA gymnastics teams vanished long before the 10.0 did. The women’s side experienced a decline almost as great as the men’s (despite Title lX). Without knowing why certain decisions were made, it’s hard to know exactly what happened. I would guess that the loss of high school gymnastics had something to do with it. There is no evidence that the problems facing men’s NCAA gymnastics originated with the scoring system, so I doubt the solution will be found there.
What the chart does show is a clear path to extinction - because most of the time (for both men and women) teams were eliminated, but new ones were not being formed to replace those lost. That is the most urgent threat to the survival of men’s NCAA gymnastics.
This trend is finally being reversed by the CGA, USAG, and the Pictor Group. Programs are finally being added.
I urge everyone to watch this video detailing those efforts if you have not already. Please, please watch it!
The major driver for schools discussed in the video to add men’s gymnastics was to attract students to enrollment-driven institutions. And money. One school was set to add a men’s gymnastics team until another sport came up with more money.
In the end, it’s all about the money. Everything else is commentary.