Gymnastics Don't Call Them Pixies!

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For her part, Zmeskal describes herself as stubborn (her mom says she gets this from coach Karolyi) and perfectionist (this from her dad). She is mildly irritated when people mistake her silence during competition for shyness. "I'm not quiet," she says. "I like laughing and being with my friends." Away from practice and performances, there is a teenager who has graduated from New Kids on the Block to Boyz II Men, likes to hang out in malls and thinks it would be fun to act in a soap opera. As down-to-earth as she is, though, Zmeskal is just superstitious enough to bar trophy cabinets from her home until after her competitive career is ended.

Miller, by contrast, has had to make her peace with the attention that attends world-class competition. "Shannon's always had the talent, but would never take her eyes off the floor," says her balance-beam coach, Peggy Liddick. "She's had to overcome her shyness and learn to play to a crowd." Miller masks well the ego that helped get her to this point. She does not read her own press clips and refuses to watch videotapes of her performances, except for training purposes. "I would rather do gymnastics than watch it," she says.

Talk of winning is not her style, even with Barcelona approaching. "It's about each of us going out there and doing our best, not beating one another," she politely insists. On the other hand, ask Miller how she'd like to be remembered in the sport and her answer is firm: "Gold medalist, all- around." She claims not to be thinking about what it will be like under the kliegs in Barcelona. "It should be the same as anywhere," she says. "A beam's a beam." Instead, she keeps her mind focused on her routines and tries "not to think of anything negative."

There is something almost otherworldly about the hazel-eyed Miller. Her ghostly paleness and thin frame give her a misleadingly fragile appearance. She conveys a sense that she doesn't speak unless spoken to; her favorite answer is, "I don't know." When working out, she constantly looks as if she might break into tears. It was that very look that initially attracted the attention of Steve Nunno in 1986 when both were visiting a gymnastics camp in the Soviet Union. "Shannon was trying so hard and getting extremely frustrated," he recalls. "I felt, There's a kid I can help if I can channel that frustration into a positive energy." Conveniently, both were from Oklahoma, and Miller soon took up training in Nunno's Oklahoma City facility. "Shannon is the hardest worker in my gym," he says, "and always has been."

American coaches who have watched Miller at competitions describe her as a "machine" because of the methodical way she practices her moves over and over and over. "What I respect most is her work ethic," says Liddick. "If I say do something 20 times, she does 30 and asks what's next." That discipline enabled Miller to recover from elbow surgery in five weeks' time, where a minimum of eight is usual. During the downtime, she was able to give other injuries a rest and develop strength and new skills. What could have been a career stopper has worked to her advantage, says Liddick. "She is fresh and ready to compete. Other kids are a little tired."