Sovetsky Sport. November 19, 1966. The time has come for farewell. Last night Larisa Latynina stepped onto the platform for the last time. She, crowned with all the titles that a sportswoman could dream of, was solemnly seen off by Soviet gymnastics, because Latynina had decided to part with the sport. However, 'parting' is not the right word. Firstly, at this championship she is performing as a part of the panel of judges in the floor exercises. Secondly... But you will learn about this 'secondly' from the interview taken from her by our special correspondent S. Tokarev immediately after Latynina was awarded a commemorative medal for outstanding sports achievements, as well as commemorative gifts from the Central Council of the Union of Sports Societies and Organizations of the USSR, the Council of Ministers of Uzbekistan, the Republic Council of the Union, and the Burevestnik Society, to which the gymnast devoted many years of her athletic life.
Are you sad, Larisa Semyonovna?
Yes and no. In recent years I have performed on the platform with the same feeling of joy and lightness, and it is pleasant for me to not leave irritated, tired and fatigued, as probably happens to people who have missed their time. I have retained my love for gymnastics and its charm.
What is next?
I haven't decided yet. In any case, I'm not done with gymnastics.
You talked about joy. What was the happiest, most joyful moment you experienced in sports?
There were many of them, and each one seemed like a peak, after which it was impossible to experience anything similar. And the joys kept coming. You know, even in Tokyo, having lost to Vera Caslavska, I remember doing my floor routine from the heart, as they say. It wasn't the score but my inner state, my spirituality, that made me happy.
And in Dortmund? Remember how you and I met Natasha Kuchinskaya at the platform when she received her first gold medal, and I told you that the place where we met her was lucky, and after the second medal we should go look there, too, for luck, and you went, remember?
Yes, of course. but, you know, when I won myself, I tried to hide my joy, I was embarrassed, I held back. But there I was, rejoicing for Natasha with all my might.
There was something maternal about it, wasn't there?
Perhaps.
What did life in gymnastics give you? The main thing, you know? Not some physical sensations...
Not primarily those. But rather the pleasure of creativity, of searching, of self-expression in the highest sense of the word, which are connected to them. I hate the word 'work.' They say, 'works on the apparatus.' It's terrible. It's not work, but love.
In this regard, would you like to wish anything to those you have replaced you on the platform?
Show more individuality, more searching, more holding on, more courage.
That's the whole conversation. Latynina hurried to the judges' stand. But I would like to add a few words of my own.
A great gymnast has left the platform. The point is not that her art (the word 'skill' doesn't quite fit here) was perfect from a technical standpoint. It is not for nothing that she herself so often, so persistently repeats 'spirituality,' 'self-expression,' 'joy.' Latynina's gymnastics image embodied cheerfulness and victorious optimism. If you like, her famous smile does not belong only to her. It is a symbol of eternal youth and the enternal progressive movement of our sport.
Thank you for everything.
S. TOKAREV