Aimee Boorman has heard that line, over and over, from other coaches when they talk about the gymnast she helped lift to heights never seen within their sport.
“They say it with a sense of pride,” Boorman tells USA TODAY Sports, “and it’s like, ‘So you realize how many potential Simones you have pushed out of your gym?’ “
Biles was the kid who always loved the gymnastics part, but not the work that went into making her the best. Some days she just wanted to go home.
Those characteristics didn’t necessarily change as she grew into the decorated champion America knew. Boorman, though, was willing to manage them in a way others wouldn’t.
Biles’ coach from age 7 through her four-gold-medal performance at the 2016 Rio Olympics remembers her as one of her more challenging pupils.
“If everybody is just strict and obedient, you grow stale as a coach,” Boorman says. “So when you have somebody who’s throwing something new at you all the time, on an emotional level, on a personality level, you gotta grow. And I think some of those other coaches weren’t willing to grow.
“When people say, ‘Well, there’s only going to be one Simone,’ I’m like, ‘That’s not true.’ You have to know how to manage that athlete to get them to the point they could be a Simone.”
Boorman’s approach – nurturing, forgiving, even relenting – was novel to coaching within a sport of forced discipline and regulation. She lays out her methodology, ingrained in her by a tumultuous childhood experience, in “The Balance: My Years Coaching Simone Biles.”
The book, which was released last week, reveals a back story of how athletes develop and mature but also how they can have giggles on their face before and after their most triumphant Olympic moments.
Boorman and co-author Steve Cooper spoke with us about facing unique challenges while coaching and parenting our athletes and how we can overcome them in unexpected ways.
“Nothing about Simone’s greatness was inevitable,” Cooper said during our Zoom interview. “It was a process. It wasn’t just luck.”
‘If it wasn’t fun, she wasn’t having any part of it’: Without love for a sport, it’s difficult to move forward
Boorman is often asked if she knew when Biles would become superstar. The answer: When she became one.
“Up until that point, anything can happen,” she says, “and any given day, if Simone didn’t have that passion and that love for gymnastics inside of her, she could be like, ‘I’m done. I’m gonna go run track.’ “
Boorman recalls the joy she felt as a young girl in the early 1980s, when she first flung herself from the bars of Lakeshore Academy in Chicago, but also how quickly a reckless coach drained it from her.
No matter how long she stood on the balance beam, her arms raised until they were numb trying to get Coach Jeremy’s attention, he wasn’t satisfied. His name is a pseudonym, but also an extreme archetype for an era of the sport: No positive reinforcement, no acknowledgement of effort and sometimes little hope.
“That constant negative input made me have total lack of belief in myself,” she says.
And yet, like most kids, Aimee yearned to please him. She arrived early one day, straining to grab his undivided attention by working out on her own. She broke her leg. Then he ignored her for months until she finally quit.
