Follow our Olympics coverage in the run up to the Paris Games.
MINNEAPOLIS — With a hard cast and bandages on her left leg and a ruptured Achilles tendon, Skye Blakely leaned on crutches, alternately wiping tears from her eyes and waving to the crowd. Not far from her, on the same Target Center floor, Serie Jones was working to repair her injured left knee so she could play in the tournament. Deeper in the arena, a medical team was tending to Kayla DiCello, who had to be carried off the floor in a wheelchair.
Meanwhile, the other 13 women acted as if nothing had happened. The U.S. Olympic Trials don't need any incentive when it comes to exerting pressure. The math of the endeavor is powerful enough: Only five will make it to Paris. And while the discretionary selection process gives gymnastics a sense of trial security not found in the win-or-lose worlds of swimming and track and field, the stakes are still high enough.
“No matter what competitions I've ever competed in my life, this one is the most stressful of my career because it determines whether I'm going to make it or not,” said Jordan Childs, who has already competed in one Olympic Games.When asked if it was easier competing for the second time, Childs laughed, shook his head vigorously and answered firmly, “No, it's not easy at all.”
That anxiety took an unnecessary and unwelcome boost here on Friday night, compounding her fears about making the team and compounding her fears about whether she would make it through the tournament. Jones, a sure bet to make the Olympic team, landed awkwardly on her warm-up vault and withdrew from the day's competition after competing only on the uneven bars. Less than 15 minutes later, DiCello, who was an alternate in Tokyo, was smiling and sprinting down the vault runway as the first gymnast to compete that day. She didn't land and slumped to the mat, but medical staff picked her up by her feet and carefully placed her in a wheelchair and wheeled her out. As dawn broke, USA Gymnastics announced that DiCello had also injured her Achilles tendon and would be out of the competition. Jones was ruled out of competition on Saturday. Blakely withdrew before the start of qualifying after an injury she sustained during podium training on Wednesday.
Gymnastics prowess can be awe-inspiring. On Friday night, Simone Biles' double pike jump not only earned her a score of 15.975 from the judges, but also earned her a lengthy standing ovation from a stunned audience. There's no way the body can't handle the moves Biles makes so seemingly effortless.
But that's the root of the problem. There is nothing easy about gymnastics, or about the way the women perform it. There is nothing really normal about gymnastics in general. The glittering hair accessories, the ribbons in their hair, and the smiles may make it look effortless, but that prettiness masks the reality: it is incredibly dangerous.
Gymnasts leap from springboards and mats, flipping and twisting blindly through the air, landing on unforgiving beams the width of an iPhone or flying around uneven bars, grabbing and releasing, hoping they won't get caught again, landing on joints designed to withstand repeated blows.
It's also why Biles, arguably the greatest gymnast of all time, withdrew from the 2021 Olympics. Overwhelmed by the twisties, she withdrew to protect herself from what could have otherwise been a catastrophic injury. Her decision has brought about a much-needed discussion about mental health and the fine line between forging ahead and putting yourself at risk. But it doesn't make her and her peers' routines any less dangerous. Success is woven with risk, and each routine is given a starting value based on its difficulty.
As in any sport, injuries are common. They're the deal athletes make with the devil every time they attempt something the average person would never attempt. But it's one thing to accept that deal; it's quite another to face its harsh reality head-on in a competition where you're trying to fulfill a lifelong dream.
Biles' coach, Laurent Lundy, saw Blakely on crutches, watched Jones work her way up, watched DiCello exit in a wheelchair, and instinctively knew the other women on the floor were feeling the same. He coaches five of the 16 gymnasts on the national team, all of whom compete at the World Champions Center, the Houston-based powerhouse founded by Biles' mother, Nelly. And he didn't shy away from the topic.
“Stress brings about anxiety, you know?” he says. “You see other gymnasts getting injured and you think, 'What? Am I next? What's going to happen to me?' But stuff happens. Mistakes happen. That's part of gymnastics. To make the Olympic team, which is super stressful in itself, you have to be so isolated.”
But as a coach, it's one thing to say that, and quite another to actually put it into practice. Even Childs, who has a hard time finding positivity in any situation, acknowledged that the atmosphere felt oppressive.
“It's scary for any athlete when they see someone get hurt,” she said. “You don't want that to happen to you, do you?”
Following DiCello's injury, Sunisa Lee was next up to compete on the vault. The reigning Olympic all-around gold medalist had been battling two kidney diseases all year that had sapped her confidence as well as her strength. There were days when she didn't want to go back to the gym, but most days she wondered if she was good enough to compete in the Olympics. At one point, she wanted to perfect her uneven bars routine and put her name on it, but now she wants to compete with the ability to make the national team. As a St. Paul native and local hero (a kiosk at the mall outside sold T-shirts that read “Always Sunis in Minnesota”), Lee was already feeling a lot of pressure as a new competitor.
As soon as DiCello lifted herself off the floor in her wheelchair, Lee closed her eyes, put her hand to her stomach, took a deep breath, and then took off sprinting. When she landed safely, she smiled in obvious relief.
A few minutes later, Biles began her uneven bars routine. Biles clearly finds joy. Her social media feeds are filled with photos of her enjoying everyday life, whether it's hanging out with friends or cheering on her husband at NFL games. At competitions, she's comfortable smiling at her competitors and seems to embrace her role in using her experience to help others overcome their challenges. When Lee stumbled on her vault run-up at last month's U.S. championships, it was Biles who ran into the tunnel to offer encouragement. During this competition, Biles left her uneven bars warm-up to check on Jones while he was regaining his composure with the medical staff.
But she will never be “cured” of the problems that plagued her in Tokyo. Her strength and ability remain at peak performance, and she has the tools to deal with any mental anguish that may creep up on her. But despite her extraordinary performance, she is human. She flawlessly performed the bars, but had to save her horse on the balance beam and seemed in a bad mood throughout her performance. As she dismounted, Biles was seen on the big screen repeatedly yelling the F-word in frustration.
Randy found his star soon after.
“Her mental state will never be completely cured,” Randy says. “She's functioning perfectly normal in everything, but there's still that anxiety of, 'Am I the next one to get hurt?' You can't control this. Control what you can. You're perfectly prepared, you're perfectly healthy physically, and you have the tools to help yourself.”
Biles then took to the stage and performed an incredibly difficult floor exercise and an even more difficult vault to solidify her position at the top of the all-around rankings.
Behind Biles, the leaderboard is a crowded field, with 1.65 points separating second (Chiles) from eighth (Liane Wong). In addition to the psychological toll of injuries, there are also very real tactical issues at play. The strength of this national team is its depth. “We can send out a B team or a C team and still do well,” said Alicia Sacramone Quinn, the national team's strategy lead. Athletic Last week, that depth was significantly reduced.
Blakely placed second to Biles at the U.S. Championships and was a likely choice for the five-person team, but DiCello was also a strong contender after her consistent performances in all four events. Jones won the bronze medal at the 2023 World Championships and was considered a likely candidate to be Biles' all-around partner in Paris, but she missed U.S. Championships while rehabbing a shoulder injury, meaning all three skaters are out.
The goal is to field the strongest five-person team (two reserves will also travel to Paris), but not necessarily to send the best women overall.
Olympic rules require each country to field three women on each apparatus and for all three points to count, leaving room for specialists. The top four places in the all-around are currently held by four Tokyo Olympians: Biles, Chiles, Li and Jade Carey. Vault and floor specialist Jocelyn Roberson is fifth. Kariya Lincoln, who withdrew from the U.S. Championships with a foot injury, is sixth, while Hesly Rivera and Wong round out the top eight.
The selection rules are generous and although performance in the trials here will be a big factor, it will not necessarily determine who gets the ticket to Paris.
Earlier this week, Quinn, a member of the selection committee, spoke about a scenario in case of injury.
“It has to happen in the here and now, right?” she said. “We don't know what's going to happen three days from now, we don't know what's going to happen two weeks from now. We have to always look at what's happening right in front of us right now, because that's what we can actually count on.”
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(Top photo of Kayla DiCello during her vaulting competition, which ended with an Achilles injury: Matt Krohn/USA Today)