The price of a perfect 10
At the 1976 Olympic Games, as big-name runners blasted from the blocks and heavyweight boxers battered their way towards glory, a tiny 14-year-old girl in an off-white leotard became the greatest sporting superstar on earth.
Nadia Comӑneci, a car-mechanic’s daughter from a down-on-its-luck town in eastern Romania, twisted and whirled her way to the first “Perfect 10” in gymnastics history.
The packed Montreal arena went into meltdown for more than one reason. The electronic scoreboards had been programmed on the assumption that such a score was impossible, and were unable to display Nadia’s marks. Several minutes of confusion followed before the dark-eyed schoolgirl’s feat was confirmed.
Then she went on to score six more perfect 10s. Mesmerised by her pixie-like presence as much as her skill and poise, the world watched in disbelief. It was as though a long-jumper had sailed clean over the stands, or a weightlifter had hoisted 200kg with his little finger.
By the time the great tidal wave of interest hit, Nadia had been whisked away by the grim-faced minders assigned to stop any of the Romanian team defecting. A stronghold of the old Soviet empire, the country was ruled by ruthless Stalinist hardman Nicolae Ceaușescu and his paranoid wife, Elena, both of whom, it was revealed, had taken a “personal interest” in Nadia’s career.
