The high road
By Lily Bragge
November 19, 2003
Tatiana Grigorieva, Australia's pin-up pole vaulter, is eyeing Athens.
Picture: Cathryn Tremain
The glamour-puss of the Sydney Olympics is holding court. Surrounded by a circle of blokes in suits, their eyes glistening with damp admiration, their mouths agape, Tatiana Grigorieva is doing what the modern, successful athlete does when not in competition: selling her presence.
The Russian-born, Australian-made, Olympic pole-vaulting star is here in name of an unlikely cause: weed killer. On film and in pictures, Grigorieva appears fit and healthy — more handsome than pretty. In the flesh, she is disarmingly lovely, possessed of a glacial, vulpine beauty.
With her mega-watt smile and washboard stomach — replete with its provocatively exposed tattoo— Grigorieva has more obvious features than a display home. Her manner is so beguiling and convivial, who can blame this group of men for gathering so snugly around her.
The Event? A private corporate function for 30 select representatives from Dow Agro-Sciences and farming giant Elders.
The Place? The Garden Room at Melbourne's Crown Casino.
The Mission? First, it is an opportunity for company representatives, country blokes from towns such as Wycheproof and Kerang to mix in the city for two days and listen to Grigorieva speak on "What business can learn from sport".
Second, the event provides Grigorieva with an opportunity to brush up her public speaking skills and cement her most recent corporate partnership — as pin-up girl (or, in this case, a 12 centimetre-high cardboard cut-out) for an industrial-strength weed killer.
Introducing Grigorieva at the dinner, the master of ceremonies proudly tells the audience that since the campaign was launched earlier this year, four out of 10 farmers can recall Grigorieva's association with the product. Not only that, cockies have been souveniring the cut-outs from counters all over the country. Their latest ambassador is beautiful, charming and successful — that she is capable of presenting a captivating speech is a bonus.
Not surprisingly, Grigorieva has little interest in such products beyond her own back garden. When one of her managers, Rick Carter, suggested this low-saturation campaign (the advertising is restricted to Elders outlets only), she did not really see the point. It wasn't until Dow Agro-Sciences agreed to make a sizeable donation to her selffounded charity, Gift for Dreams, that the deal was sealed.
Like most high-profile athletes, Grigorieva has a tight management team that has wrought the most out of her celebrity.
Three years since winning a silver medal at the 2000 Olympics and less than a year out from the Athens games, she has made herself a fixture of the Australian media landscape. She's had magazine covers aplenty, including a nude spread for the artistic periodical Black and White — shots that have since been hijacked and displayed on various porn sites on the internet.
Her forays into fashion included a short-lived line in eponymous mail-order pyjamas and lingerie. There are plans for a new range aimed at teenagers. Now the "face" of Rexona, Grigorieva has also touted for Amco, Ford, Video Ezy, Jarvis Cars, the Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival and Brisbane's Goodwill Games. Other sponsors are IGA Athletics, Adidas and Versace.
Every day is highly structured for Grigorieva and her husband, fellow pole vaulter Viktor Chistiakov, as they train, live and work together. Both are in rigorous preparation for potential selection for the Australian team at next year's games. In a reversal of fortunes when it comes to scoring medals, Chistiakov, whose recent form has been his best since he was a world champion teenager, looks a much surer bet than his wife.
Beset by injury in the past 12 months, Grigorieva has lost her world ranking. While she says it has been a time of disappointment and severe frustration, it only inflates her determination to compete at Athens. That's why the speaking engagements, the endorsements and the ad campaigns are about to go on hold. With the exception of her obligations to Gift for Dreams, all modelling, speaking engagements and advertising campaigns will be postponed.
Anthony Zammit, who also represents the couple, says that although Grigorieva's performance over the past 12 months has been unsatisfactory, people would be foolish to write her off or underestimate her resolve. He says her will and extraordinary athletic abilities are a formidable combination. Grigorieva was born in St Petersburg in Russia in 1975, her father a mechanic, her mother an economist, both communists.
Coming from a nonsporting background, Grigorieva says she was a hyperactive child who, bit by bit, began wrecking the family house before her parents placed her in a sporting program to re-direct her wild energy. It wasn't until coming to Australia for a holiday to see Chistiakov (her then fiance) in 1997 that Grigorieva picked up a pole vault for the first time.
Formerly a national 400-metre hurdler in Russia, and unable to find a coach in that event here, she confounded everyone by becoming a successful international competitor in her new sport after a mere 12 months.
The three-month sojourn was transformed when she gained permanent residency, citizenship and the right to represent Australia. Is her loyalty ever divided between the two countries? Would she like to pole vault for Russia in the future? "No, not at all," is the adamant reply. She says that since Russia provided her and Chistiakov with very little in the way of opportunities, they will always be grateful to this country. "I am Russian-born, but definitely an Australian-made pole vaulter."
Fluent in Russian and Italian, she says her biggest challenge was learning how to communicate. Armed with only a rudimentary understanding of English when she arrived in Australia, Grigorieva set about learning how to speak, read and write the language in exactly the same manner that she embraced mastering the pole vault.
Six years later, she has just read (and enjoyed) Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in both Russian and English. A sure sign that a language has soaked itself into your being is when you begin to dream in it.
Grigorieva says about a year ago, her husband told her that she had started speaking in English in her sleep. Equipped with a canny sense of her own capabilities, she wisely sticks to what she knows when speaking at public and corporate events. Her speech at Crown was a potted history of her life and its challenges, punctuated by amusing anecdotes.
The following day, Grigorieva launched the Kid's Help Line with Vanessa Amorosi at Federation Square and once again, she was heartfelt, poised and honest. Her Gift for Dreams foundation aims to encourage young people, particularly from disadvantaged backgrounds, to achieve their full potential through sport and physical exercise.
When she was a little girl, Grigorieva says, she dreamt of being rich and famous and being able to help people. This is a woman who believes there is always a reward for hard work. That all obstacles are challenges — simply nothing more than things that must be overcome. "I came from nowhere to somewhere by going step by step, never giving up and constantly setting myself new limits," she says.
Modelling is something she aspired to. Even posing sexily in a bikini for various men's magazines is a pleasure after training for competitions. It helps her to feel complete and good about herself. "When you are preparing for a big competition you are feeling like a machine. There is nothing exciting, (it's very routine) day in and day out. You are forgetting you are a woman. It is important for a woman to feel that she is a woman — modelling gives me a chance to do that. As an athlete I'm strong and aggressive and dedicated — I need something else — I can't be a thorn for too long, I have to be a rose as well."
Speaking of roses, Grigorieva's big tattoo of a rose entwined with thorns on her belly encapsulates the athlete's theory about life as well as her personality. She says, "It is black and white — the thorns are like pole vaulting — tough and aggressive, while the rose represents my family and friends, it's all about softness."
Brought up an atheist, Grigorieva has conflicted ideas about God. "I don't know whether I believe in God or not, but I do believe in some kind of great power. When other people talk about God, I see a picture of a man — Jesus Christ, right away.
"I definitely have something in my life that is guiding me — I think I must have an angel that is looking after, and protecting me." An angel indeed.
Surely there has to be a catch with this super-achieving, all-round nice girl? Grigorieva shrugs at these questions, only to say with genuine humility that any character defects she possesses are just more things to be worked on and rectified. Her husband claims she doesn't even have any bad habits. That there is only one weakness he can think of: "She's soft," he says affectionately. "Which being a woman can be seen as both an advantage and disadvantage."
The amount of unsolicited attention Grigorieva receives from doting, fascinated men could put a strain on the couple's marriage. She says that occasionally it does prove difficult, but she is a stickler for putting boundaries in place. An invisible line is drawn that few dare to cross. "In respect to my husband, I always make sure that no one gets too close or overly familiar."
Absorbed with constantly improving herself, Grigorieva intends to study business and management after she finishes competing. The plan is to retire after the Commonwealth Games in 2006 and have children.
Yep, business, philanthropy and babies, that’s the plan. Grigorieva says her greatest strength in life is her husband. "He is always by my side and supporting me in every situation."
Based in Adelaide, they are about to go their separate ways for the next three months. Grigorieva is taking up residence on the Gold Coast, where her focus will be on honing in on more height and getting greater consistency in her jumps. She must meet criteria set by Athletics Australia before she can resume training with their Italian-based coach, Vitali Petrov.
Meanwhile, Chistiakov, who has already qualified, is off to Europe. Stoically, they both acknowledge that they will miss one another terribly, but see the separation as just another hurdle to overcome in order to realise their Olympic dreams.
Grigorieva says, "A big advantage for me is my patience. I take time to think and sleep on things. I'm trying to develop both my mental and physical abilities all the time. I would like to think that I am quite strong that I never give up, no matter how bad it is."
