Baton twirlers spinning gold

0 Comments | Insight on the News, August 12, 1996 | by Gayle M.B. Hanson

We may think of them as majorettes, but they have a dream -- to compete at the Olympics.

The Henry J. Kaiser Auditorium in Oakland, Calif., may be a continent away from Atlanta's Olympic Village, but that didn't matter to the hundreds of baton twirlers who descended on this city in July to compete in the national championships hosted by the US. Twirling Association, or USTA.

As far as these competitors are concerned, a gold medal is a gold medal is still a gold medal. And if gymnastic baton twirling has yet to receive status as an official Olympic sport, it's only a matter of time before they get the respect they deserve.

"It has sometimes been really frustrating for me," says 24-year-old Liane Aramaki, this year's national champion. "At my age, I'll never have the chance to compete in the Olympics, but for younger twirlers there may be that possibility."

If baton twirling conjures images of sequin-clad majorettes strutting to Sousa, that's not off the mark. Aramaki, for instance, is the lead majorette for the University of Southern California Trojans. But off the playing field, the sport has evolved into a sophisticated meld of gymnastics and juggling. Picture Nadia Comaneci doing her floor routine while twirling three batons simultaneously.

"Baton twirlers today are on the same level with gymnasts and figure skaters when it comes to athletic ability and self-expression," says Sandi Wiemers, chair of the USTA. Indeed, during a week of competition, both for the national championship and for a place on the US. Twirling Team that will compete in the forthcoming World Twirling Championships in Genoa, Italy, the athletes displayed the kind of poise and conditioning that dazzle audiences.

So why no Olympic recognition?

"We were a demonstration sport at the last World Games," explains Kathy Forsythe, executive director of the USTA. "In order for us to have a shot at becoming an Olympic sport, we must have 30 countries competing. Right now we have 16. But we have been working very hard to bring new countries to the sport."

Baton twirling is a homegrown sport with its roots in Swiss flag swinging and Scottish saber twirling. The batons used by twirlers evolved from the mace or long baton used to mark the rhythm of military bands on the march.

Today, twirlers may compete in a variety of events including dance twirl. All competitors use the same music, but unlike the Olympic gymnastic and figure-skating competition there are no compulsory maneuvers. If the sport is to become an Olympic event, USTA board members acknowledge, they will have to introduce some standardized moves. "That is definitely the wave of the future," says coach Jackie Stewart.

It could be years before the wave hits the Olympic shore. But even as Arimaki admits that her time as a competitor may be drawing to a close, coaches have their eyes on an 8-year-old dynamo from Ohio by the name of Mindy Sluss who made it to the finals in three out of four solo events.

Despite the fact that she was not much taller than her baton, she tossed, twirled and tumbled with the best from across the country. A pint-sized blue-eyed blonde, she has been practicing her sport almost all of her short life. And although she didn't make it onto the national team this year, she's confident she will in the future.

"I'd like to win a gold medal," she says.

At the Olympics?

"Sure," she grins.