Well, lovies, I’m back.
Anyway – we know 1988 was all about The Battle – you know, Yelena Shushunova v. Daniela Silivas (although I personally like to think of it as The Battle Of The Bad Perms. I’m on Team Shush, if only because I hate her hair slightly less than I hate Silivas’…gymnastic-ally, both ladies were brilliant, but that damn hair was simply much too distracting. Anyway, I’m rambling), but there is one gymnast who, I believe, had she been healthy, could’ve kicked some major booty in every possible way. Yes, I’m talking about none other than the lovely 1987 world champion Aurelia Dobre.
The girl was poetry in motion, for which I have decided to write a poem in her honor, but be warned: I cannot write poetry to save my life. I just need a few laughs tonight; it’s been a rough week. So bear with me, please.
In a decade famous for perms that resembled poodles,
Aurelia Dobre had enough sense to keep her hair long, like a wig made of noodles.
Her gymnastics was quite brilliant too,
She could flip and twist and tumble out of the blue.
Her lines, in particular, were exquisite,
Her choreography always looked absolutely terrific.
She danced and pranced not at all like a Rombot,
Every moment of her performance deserved a snapshot.
It really was too bad when she injured her knee,
Which ended her shot at Olympic glory.
But in the fans’ hearts she will always live,
So her not-that-successful Seoul experience we can forgive.
Oh, that was dreadful. But hey! You gotta do what you gotta do to cheer yourself up at the end of a long week.
Anyway, here you go. Enjoy!