Category: WAG

As the Soviet Union released information about Elena Mukhina’s accident in measured drips—carefully chosen, deliberately vague—the rest of the world filled the silence with speculation. Rumors crossed borders faster than facts. Many reports were hedged with caution: “we’ve been told,” “a Soviet gymnastics official has said.” At times, the tone was skeptical, as if even the journalists weren’t sure which pieces of the story to trust.

What follows is not a comprehensive catalogue of coverage. Instead, it’s a glimpse into the confusion—how a vacuum of truth became a breeding ground for contradictions, conjecture, and chaos around the globe.

Reminder: This is the second installment in a two-part series. To read about how the Soviet Union covered the accident and to understand what happened, please jump to part one.

On July 3, 1980, in the Minsk Palace of Sport, Elena Mukhina was still nursing a broken leg that never healed. While her coach, Mikhail Klimenko, was away, she tried an element that she knew her body was not ready for: a Thomas salto on floor. When she went for the roll-out skill with one-and-a-half twists and one-and-a-half flips, she didn’t get the height she needed. She landed on her chin. Three vertebrae broke. And she never walked again. 

We know those details now. But in 1980, they were impossible to piece together.

I wasn’t alive then. I grew up with Mukhina’s story fully intact, a cautionary tale passed down through books, articles, and documentaries. But I often wonder: what was it like in real time? What did people know, and when did they know it?

To answer that, I went rummaging through the archives. Not surprisingly, the Soviet version of events looked quite different from the one told abroad. This four-part series traces how the story unfolded—first in the Soviet press, then in the international press, and finally in Mukhina’s own words in two interviews, nearly a decade later.

Let’s start by looking at the slow drip of information from the Soviet press.

In 1973, Larisa Latynina — gymnastics legend and head coach of the USSR at the time — offered her take on the star of world gymnastics, Olga Korbut. Latynina praised her talent, certainly, but she also delivered a cool splash of honesty:

True, from fans of Olga Korbut’s gymnastics talent, you often hear: “If not for that unfortunate mistake on the uneven bars in Munich… If not for that unexpected leg injury in London…” But here lies the very line that separates a true leader from any — even a magnificent — master. The strength of a leader lies in this: there can be no “ifs”; she must be able to win under any circumstances. And, for that, one must first of all be a true person in every respect: in relation to sport, to oneself, to one’s own fame, and especially to the fame of others. And Olga Korbut does not yet possess these qualities. So yes, there are many bright “stars” in Soviet gymnastics today, but there is only one leader among them — Tourischeva.

Though Latynina sprinkled plenty of compliments elsewhere in the interview, this one paragraph in Komsomolskaya Pravda ricocheted across the globe.

Below, you’ll find the full article, along with a follow-on piece from Japan — proof of just how far Latynina’s remarks traveled.