It gets better every time. So, in a super relevant and timely exercise 18 years in the making, we need to break it down together as a family.
We begin with the sun fading next to an onion dome. This is definitely not symbolism. No one here is using the subtlety of an anvil to imply that Russia is nothing more than a feeble husk of a former empire pathetically clinging to the last vile, shriveled wisps of long-faded power or anything. Who would do that?
Not Roza Galieva. She is a perfect sparrow made of angels, an innocent victim of an EVIL system, and now all the children of the world must gather around to learn the lessons of the epic, moving tale of the time “this happened to Roza Galieva.”
By “this,” do you mean having her hair smelled in the middle of flexibility training? That does sound traumatic. Of course, we all know that hair smelling is an intrinsic part of any respectable Eastern bloc training regimen. It’s why they’re so artistic. American gymnasts do the rope climb. Russian gymnasts cultivate their scalp scent. But no, something even worse than hair smelling happened to Roza Galieva.
At this point, Tesh informs us that now Roza is a withered old crone of 19, which is basically 40, which is like 90. By 19, a gymnast is more likely to be eaten by a shark than win an Olympic gold medal.
Speaking of being eaten by a shark, the 1992 Unified Team leotard.
But Roza Galieva wasn't always a washed up 19-year-old hag. Back in ancient times when she was a fresh-faced young sprite with an acceptable age like 15, she was full of dreams and innocence. That was before she was personally victimized by Tatiana Gutsu. Tesh drops his voice 16 octaves to introduce Gutsu because she’s Ursula the Sea Witch now or something. He was speaking normally and then leaned into a drainpipe to say, "Tatiana Gutsu." If you go into a bathroom and shout "Tatiana Gutsu" three times, her face will appear in the mirror. Maybe that's what Roza just saw.
Hey Roza, you’re doing such a great job. Quick note: For the next take, could you try curling up into a fetal position and staring into the middle distance while picturing the genocide of millions? That’s really the tone we’re going for with this piece. Thanks so much, sweetie! Because why be emotional when you can be THE EMOTIONEST.