Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Schwikert: More than ‘bad girl’ of gymnastics

Contrary to what you have may have read, Tasha Schwikert doesn't flip, fly and pirouette around the gymnastics arena in a multi-colored hairdo with iconoclastic tattoos and piercings adorning her muscular and oh-so-nimble body, a la Dennis Rodman.

That's who the New York Times compared her to in a recent feature story that depicted Las Vegas' Olympic gymnast as an iron-willed, petulant and hard-to-coach problem child.

Of course, in that it was Schwikert's mother, Joy, who made the Rodman reference, perhaps the Times story, like Schwikert herself, was pretty much on the beam.

"It wasn't my favorite story," said Cassie Rice, who has been Schwikert's coach since the latter was 7, as she watched the most famous member of the Henderson Gymcats continue to pound the training mats in preparation for this weekend's U.S. Olympic Team Trials at the Arrowhead Pond at Anaheim. "But it was a pretty honest (portrayal) of her.

"She knows her faults and sometimes she's not as willing to change them as I would like. But Tasha doesn't mind having an honest depiction where a lot of these girls -- some of whom didn't make these trials -- do all these things and worse, then pretend they're these good little girls who don't do anything wrong."

With Schwikert, what you sometimes see is what you sometimes get. Other times, as an observer at one of her recent workouts might have noticed, what you get is the driven athlete who seems committed to being the best she can be.

"Tasha is a little more honest. You know, 'here I am,' " Rice adds with a wry chuckle, as if to say "if you only knew."

"We've never hid anything of hers. Perhaps we should have."

In these politically correct times, that's what makes Schwikert -- and, to a lesser extent, Rice -- so refreshing. Rather than sugarcoat the way things are, they are up front in discussing the bitter parts of their coach-and-pupil relationship.

For instance, even with a second consecutive Olympic berth hinging on the outcome of a renewed committment to her sport following a series of nagging foot and ankle injuries, Schwikert admits that at times it has been difficult to stay focused.

"Yeah, definitely" she said, winding down a workout with a series of Gumby-like stretching exercises, "but I don't think any more than before. It's not like because I'm 19 it's any different. I've always had my ups and downs.

"It's not like I don't want to do it because I'd rather be hanging out with my friends. It's more because I'm sick and tired of my body having to go through this. Like the impact (to her body), and being at the gymnasium all the time. It's very tedious. It's like Groundhog Day. It's the same thing, every day."

But, as Schwikert says, that's the way it has to be at her level.

"I have to look at what I want to accomplish," she said. "You know, no pain, no gain, I guess. Great things aren't going to come easy."

Just days after the Times story appeared, Schwikert struggled to a ninth-place finish at the U.S. Championships in Nashville. She was a solid third after the prelims before her ankle started to bother her.

Schwikert, who came across as bright, friendly and charming during a 30-minute interview, said she hadn't read the Times story.

"No, I didn't, but I heard it was really bad," she said.

"I'm sure I hang out more than some of the other kids. But then, I'm older, and I was brought up different."

Both her mother, who played professional tennis, and father, Shannon Warren, are longtime swing shift craps dealers at Caesars Palace, meaning that Schwikert has had more independence away from the gym than most members of the national team. Perhaps that is why sometimes -- with an emphasis on sometimes -- she finds it difficult to do exactly as she is told during training.

"It's not like I don't work hard," she said. "It's not like I'm driving by the gym and say ... I'll think I'll decide to stop in this week. If I didn't show up here every day and work at least six hours, or if I didn't come by for a week, Cassie would be like, 'Don't come back again.' "

Not that that hasn't happened before. But at least it hasn't happened recently. Rice said if Schwikert's "eye of the tiger" has drifted from time to time, it appears to be back with a steely determination, what with the Olympics and the end of her elite career so near.

In the fall, Schwikert and her sister, Jordan, also an elite gymnast before back surgery curtailed her career, will attend UCLA on gymnastics scholarships.

"It's pretty much been the same," Rice said of Schwikert's desire and commitment. "She just has a hard time of having to give up something, like when you want to have a social life or something like that. But it's (always) been that way. At 12, it might have been a pool party; at 15, something else. She's gone through some periods like that.

"But it's at that moment where a kid decides 'I'm going to give that up and commit myself to this goal.' If not, they are not going to make it."

Having made it once, as injuries to more established gymnasts enabled Schwikert to step up to prime time at the Sydney Games in 2000, Rice said she wasn't sure if Schwikert would stay committed to her rigorous training schedule, especially when injuries interrupted her pursuit of international acclaim following her 2001 and 2002 United States all-around championships.

She was captain of last year's U.S. team that won its first world championship, also at the Pond, which could have served as another perfect place to quit and get on with being a teenager.

"She's had the opportunity to do that (quit) a couple of times." Rice said. "She just graduated and she had a full ride (to UCLA) and she's already been an Olympic team member, so it would have been real easy for her not to do this. But she's here, and my assumption has to be that this is her goal."

A second later, Schwikert literally flew by overhead, twisting her body into the shape of a pretzel before uncurling into a perfect landing.

At least it appeared to be a perfect landing. Schwikert looked at her coach and frowned while Rice simply nodded -- sign language to do it again. When you have been at it as long as these two have, words rarely are needed when it comes to the notion of practice making perfect.

"I know it's really hard at times," Rice said. "But it's something she has committed herself to or she wouldn't be here."

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