The garbage can stood no chance. Alicia Sacramone Quinn, captain of the 2008 U.S. Olympic silver-medalist gymnastics team and winner of 10 World Championship medals, was furious after not making a forgotten gymnastics team. She channeled her anger into kicking the bin.
Now a mother of four, twelve years removed from competition, Quinn shares this story to emphasize a simple message: “I understand,” she says. This week, she will generate both ire and agony. Sixteen women will compete in the U.S. Olympic Trials in Minneapolis; only five will be selected to compete in Paris. Quinn, the national team’s strategy lead, will assist in making the tough cuts.
But those three words — I get it — are the reason why she and Chellsie Memmel, the technical lead, are in this position. They are not the typical choices. For the past 25 years, the women’s national team program has been led by older coaches with extensive experience. Quinn, focusing on planning the team’s strategy, worked on the development staff a decade ago and served on the board of directors for the Athlete Assistance Fund. Memmel, tasked with maximizing points values in routines, is a respected judge. Both are just 36.
After a necessary reevaluation woke the sport up to its unpleasant past and worked towards restoring its future, Quinn and Memmel symbolize the positive shift the sport’s leadership sought. They are athletes turned administrators, young enough to understand the harm the sport endured, mature enough to enhance it, and brave enough to not care who might be offended in the process.
“Ultimately, I want these athletes to look back on their careers and be happy with it,” Memmel says. “I want them to have fond memories, to be proud of their achievements and not just say, ‘I did it, but at what cost?’ I don’t want that, that price.”
Describe Quinn, her coworker, co-conspirator, and “work wife,” Memmel ponders the question. She represents the stereotypical Midwestern girl – thoughtful, even-tempered, and kind. Born in Wisconsin to two gymnastics coaches, she naturally gravitated towards the gym. Memmel’s precise tactics quickly set her apart from the rest. She is well-suited for her position in nuanced routines and maximizing point values.
Quinn, on the other hand, is different. She jokes that she’s there for comedic relief. Born in Boston to an orthodontist dad and salon owner mom, Quinn discovered gymnastics by cartwheeling around a mall. She succeeded with determination, moxie, and verve, positioning her well as the front-facing figure for her sport.
“Spicy,” Memmel finally decides on to describe Quinn. The descriptor earns Quinn’s approval, with the addition that Memmel can be spicy too if needed. They both grew up in the sport in different paths, encountering frequently. In 2004, they shared a room for the first time at the World Cup in Birmingham, England. Their divergent personalities and shared experiences prepared them for their current roles.
Choosing a team doesn’t make anyone popular, and Quinn has faced calls from upset coaches more than once. She uses Memmel’s measured approach when possible, but knows when to stand her ground. Memmel and Quinn admit they’re young, new, and don’t have all the answers, but won’t be bullied.
Quinn and Memmel, in many ways, have more experience than most coaches they deal with, especially when it comes to the national team and its outdated system. The sport finally meant gymnasts were starting to receive the attention they deserved thanks to people like Quinn and Memmel.
In 2021, after decentralizing control in USA Gymnastics, the responsibilities were divided among three directors. The team selection process now involves a committee to fill rosters.
It’s getting better under Forster. The newfound focus on gymnasts illuminates the flaws in the old system. Quinn and Memmel put individual attention on gymnasts, taking into account nutrition and mental health often overlooked before.
This is going to be tough. Of the 16 women in Minneapolis, four were on the Tokyo Olympic team. Building an Olympic team is complex, with specialists crucial despite the abundance of talent. Difficult choices await, with no clear options beside Biles.
Memmel and Quinn witness the emotional toll of selections. They’ve spent months observing athletes who all want a spot on the team. The pressure is immense.
It’s not a test. Just incredibly tough decisions. Both women now understand the weight of selections
Adds Quinn: “I’m like everyone’s crazy aunt. I want them all to do well.”
Memmel and Quinn “get it.”
(Illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; Â photos: Tim Clayton, Xavier Laine, Aric Becker / Getty Images)