Johnson's gold makes for happy Americans
Clear some more space in that pile of pretty Olympic medal boxes. Shawn Johnson and Nastia Liukin are bringing home more loot, including a gorgeous gold of Johnson's very own.
Johnson beat her friend and teammate on the balance beam, the last women's gymnastics event at the Beijing Games
"I finished off the Olympic Games with, to me, the most perfect ending ever," Johnson said, beaming as she tugged at the ribbon around her neck. "To finally get the gold medal ... on my very last routine meant the world to me."
And it means the Americans will be strutting home with more bling than Diddy.
Johnson already had three silvers, including one from the all-around, where Liukin won gold. Together, the women have won eight medals. Throw in Jonathan Horton's silver on the high bar Tuesday night, and the Americans are leaving Beijing with 10 medals. That's the most they've won at a non-boycotted Olympics since 1932, when rope climbing and Indian clubs still got you medals.
"It just shows how strong we are," said Liukin, who won five medals. "We went out there and showed we are the best. Going 1-2 in the all-around, that's never been done by the United States. The Americans have never had 1-2 on beam before, either. And 2-3 on floor isn't too bad.
"It's definitely been a very successful Olympics for us."
For the Chinese men, it was a rout. Li Xiaopeng won the parallel bars gold and Zou Kai got his third gold with a victory on high bar Tuesday night, giving the Chinese men a whopping seven gold medals. Yes, that's every gold but one. And had the Chinese qualified a man in that final, they very well could have swept the top podium spot.
Quite a turnaround from four years ago, when China went to Athens as the overwhelming favorite and left with two measly medals, only one gold. The seven golds here tie the Soviet Union (1956 and 1988) for most at a single Olympics.
"Four years ago, we had a large failure and we blamed ourselves," China coach Huang Yubin said. "But today, we are all proud of ourselves."
Johnson arrived in Beijing as gymnastics' latest "it" girl, the reigning world champion who had lost only one event in the past two years. It wasn't a question of if she'd win gold, but how many. Team? All-around? Balance beam? Floor?
But the Americans were beaten by the Chinese in the team final, and Johnson finished second to Liukin, her close friend and roommate in the Olympic village.
It looked as if she'd finally win gold on floor, topping Liukin with a perky, powerful routine that would dazzle even the circus folks. But the last competitor of the night, Romania's Sandra Izbasa, snatched the medal from Johnson, and the 16-year-old was left with yet another silver.
"I would never trade one of my silvers for gold," she insisted. "What I went through to get them is very special to me and really touched my heart."
Johnson is more mature than some people a decade older, and when she says things like that, she really does mean them.
But she's been training for the Olympics since she was a little girl and no one trains for second place.
"It's been a long battle," said Liang Chow, Johnson's coach. "She came in with the possibility of winning a few gold medals and that hasn't happened. We were running out of chances."
There was, however, one left.
The balance beam is gymnastics' version of a tightrope over Niagara Falls, a 4-inch-wide slab of foam and wood that's 4 feet off the ground. Make a mistake and something bad is bound to happen. But beam is Johnson's favorite event. She whips off back handsprings and aerial somersaults with ease and confidence. Every move looks effortless.
When she finished, a grin spread across her face and she waved to the crowd. She and Chow slapped hands when she climbed off the podium, and Liukin's father and coach, Valeri, clapped enthusiastically.
Johnson's score was a 16.225, and she knew it was good enough for a medal.
Whether it would be gold would be determined by Liukin — again.
Liukin is the reigning world champion on beam, and her routine is gorgeous. She is long and lithe, giving an added touch of beauty to every move she does. Her leaps are done with a dancer's grace, and one element flows seamlessly into the next. But she took a big hop on her landing, and the look on her face said she knew it was her turn to stand in her teammate's shadow.
"I knew it wasn't quite my best routine, but I knew it was enough for a medal. But I'm really happy for Shawn. Three silvers is kind of hard to take. I couldn't be more proud of her," said Liukin, who smoothed a few stray hairs in Johnson's ponytail before the medals ceremony so it would be picture perfect.
When Liukin's score — 16.025 — popped up, Chow hugged Johnson. As Liukin embraced Johnson, Chow and Valeri Liukin slapped hands.
"That's the great ending. She was a little bit disappointed (after the all-around), but she went all the way to the end. I can appreciate that," said Valeri Liukin, who finished a close second to his teammate in the all-around in the 1988 Olympics before winning gold on his last event, high bar.
"She deserved to be Olympic champion."
The silver was Liukin's fifth, tying the U.S. record for a single Olympics and giving her family bragging rights. Valeri Liukin won four medals — two golds, two silvers — in 1988.
Johnson bounced up and down after the final results were posted, grinning and waving to the crowd. But she was overwhelmed when she heard her introduction as Olympic champion, biting her lip and fighting back tears.
"To finally have a gold and be an Olympic gold medalist, it's what everyone dreams of," Johnson said. "It's so exciting. It's the best feeling ever."
Horton was pretty thrilled, too.
He decided after the all-around final that he needed to upgrade the difficulty in his high bar routine to have any shot at a medal. While that might not sound too impressive, consider that most gymnasts spend months working on a routine before it's ready for competition.
Horton spent all of three days.
"I had initially said, `No, don't change your routine. Go with what got you here,'" said Mark Williams, Horton's coach. "Jon's a riverboat gambler. He said, `I'll kick myself if I don't.'"
Horton added one gravity-defying release move and changed his body position in another, adding a full half-point of difficulty. And he did it to perfection.
"I hit the floor and I looked at Mark and said, `Can you believe that just happened?'" Horton said. "I knew instantly I was going to medal."
Had Horton not taken a hop on his landing, he might have had gold. But he'll happily take his silver medal to go with the bronze the U.S. men's team won.
Clear some more space in that pile of pretty Olympic medal boxes. Shawn Johnson and Nastia Liukin are bringing home more loot, including a gorgeous gold of Johnson's very own.
Johnson beat her friend and teammate on the balance beam, the last women's gymnastics event at the Beijing Games
"I finished off the Olympic Games with, to me, the most perfect ending ever," Johnson said, beaming as she tugged at the ribbon around her neck. "To finally get the gold medal ... on my very last routine meant the world to me."
And it means the Americans will be strutting home with more bling than Diddy.
Johnson already had three silvers, including one from the all-around, where Liukin won gold. Together, the women have won eight medals. Throw in Jonathan Horton's silver on the high bar Tuesday night, and the Americans are leaving Beijing with 10 medals. That's the most they've won at a non-boycotted Olympics since 1932, when rope climbing and Indian clubs still got you medals.
"It just shows how strong we are," said Liukin, who won five medals. "We went out there and showed we are the best. Going 1-2 in the all-around, that's never been done by the United States. The Americans have never had 1-2 on beam before, either. And 2-3 on floor isn't too bad.
"It's definitely been a very successful Olympics for us."
For the Chinese men, it was a rout. Li Xiaopeng won the parallel bars gold and Zou Kai got his third gold with a victory on high bar Tuesday night, giving the Chinese men a whopping seven gold medals. Yes, that's every gold but one. And had the Chinese qualified a man in that final, they very well could have swept the top podium spot.
Quite a turnaround from four years ago, when China went to Athens as the overwhelming favorite and left with two measly medals, only one gold. The seven golds here tie the Soviet Union (1956 and 1988) for most at a single Olympics.
"Four years ago, we had a large failure and we blamed ourselves," China coach Huang Yubin said. "But today, we are all proud of ourselves."
Johnson arrived in Beijing as gymnastics' latest "it" girl, the reigning world champion who had lost only one event in the past two years. It wasn't a question of if she'd win gold, but how many. Team? All-around? Balance beam? Floor?
But the Americans were beaten by the Chinese in the team final, and Johnson finished second to Liukin, her close friend and roommate in the Olympic village.
It looked as if she'd finally win gold on floor, topping Liukin with a perky, powerful routine that would dazzle even the circus folks. But the last competitor of the night, Romania's Sandra Izbasa, snatched the medal from Johnson, and the 16-year-old was left with yet another silver.
"I would never trade one of my silvers for gold," she insisted. "What I went through to get them is very special to me and really touched my heart."
Johnson is more mature than some people a decade older, and when she says things like that, she really does mean them.
But she's been training for the Olympics since she was a little girl and no one trains for second place.
"It's been a long battle," said Liang Chow, Johnson's coach. "She came in with the possibility of winning a few gold medals and that hasn't happened. We were running out of chances."
There was, however, one left.
The balance beam is gymnastics' version of a tightrope over Niagara Falls, a 4-inch-wide slab of foam and wood that's 4 feet off the ground. Make a mistake and something bad is bound to happen. But beam is Johnson's favorite event. She whips off back handsprings and aerial somersaults with ease and confidence. Every move looks effortless.
When she finished, a grin spread across her face and she waved to the crowd. She and Chow slapped hands when she climbed off the podium, and Liukin's father and coach, Valeri, clapped enthusiastically.
Johnson's score was a 16.225, and she knew it was good enough for a medal.
Whether it would be gold would be determined by Liukin — again.
Liukin is the reigning world champion on beam, and her routine is gorgeous. She is long and lithe, giving an added touch of beauty to every move she does. Her leaps are done with a dancer's grace, and one element flows seamlessly into the next. But she took a big hop on her landing, and the look on her face said she knew it was her turn to stand in her teammate's shadow.
"I knew it wasn't quite my best routine, but I knew it was enough for a medal. But I'm really happy for Shawn. Three silvers is kind of hard to take. I couldn't be more proud of her," said Liukin, who smoothed a few stray hairs in Johnson's ponytail before the medals ceremony so it would be picture perfect.
When Liukin's score — 16.025 — popped up, Chow hugged Johnson. As Liukin embraced Johnson, Chow and Valeri Liukin slapped hands.
"That's the great ending. She was a little bit disappointed (after the all-around), but she went all the way to the end. I can appreciate that," said Valeri Liukin, who finished a close second to his teammate in the all-around in the 1988 Olympics before winning gold on his last event, high bar.
"She deserved to be Olympic champion."
The silver was Liukin's fifth, tying the U.S. record for a single Olympics and giving her family bragging rights. Valeri Liukin won four medals — two golds, two silvers — in 1988.
Johnson bounced up and down after the final results were posted, grinning and waving to the crowd. But she was overwhelmed when she heard her introduction as Olympic champion, biting her lip and fighting back tears.
"To finally have a gold and be an Olympic gold medalist, it's what everyone dreams of," Johnson said. "It's so exciting. It's the best feeling ever."
Horton was pretty thrilled, too.
He decided after the all-around final that he needed to upgrade the difficulty in his high bar routine to have any shot at a medal. While that might not sound too impressive, consider that most gymnasts spend months working on a routine before it's ready for competition.
Horton spent all of three days.
"I had initially said, `No, don't change your routine. Go with what got you here,'" said Mark Williams, Horton's coach. "Jon's a riverboat gambler. He said, `I'll kick myself if I don't.'"
Horton added one gravity-defying release move and changed his body position in another, adding a full half-point of difficulty. And he did it to perfection.
"I hit the floor and I looked at Mark and said, `Can you believe that just happened?'" Horton said. "I knew instantly I was going to medal."
Had Horton not taken a hop on his landing, he might have had gold. But he'll happily take his silver medal to go with the bronze the U.S. men's team won.
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