Leicestershire athletes aim for Olympic gold
Zara Jurenko
When Zara Jurenko gets on a tennis court she almost becomes another person. Well, two people actually.
"I get quite aggressive," says the mild-mannered 21-year-old from Kirby Muxloe.
"I cheer myself on and slap my racket when I miss a ball, and praise myself to play better.
"People must think that I'm a right weirdo," she laughs. "I'm always talking to myself."
The confident young woman of today is a far cry from the painfully bashful little girl with the broom-straw legs and clumpy trainers who came under coach Tony Blackburn's wing a decade ago.
Back then, Zara was bottom of the class and the butt of cruel classroom jokes. Her learning difficulties had only just been diagnosed.
When Tony told her she had hit a good shot, Zara looked at him as if she could hardly believe it, shyly accepting each compliment like it was a can of pop she suspected he had shaken.
Zara was blessed with natural tennis talent. The shots came quickly. Learning that she was going to be good at something took longer.
"When I met her she was very shy, very, very quiet," remembers 69-year-old Tony.
"She always looked ready to burst into tears at any minute.
"I've seen her grow up. She's a great girl who's got a tremendous attitude.
"She never gets upset, she listens to what you tell her, and she's turned into quite a nice player."
Reading and writing might not be Zara's strong points, but she's a natural talker. As interviewees go, she's more lively and engaging than most professional sports stars.
A move out of mainstream education to Maplewell Special School in Woodhouse Eaves saw Zara's confidence begin to blossom.
Tennis became a release, she believes, because she didn't have to think too hard about it.
"I used to get bullied at my old school... which wasn't very nice," she says. "People weren't very nice.
"When I started tennis, I used to pretend their [the bullies'] heads were the ball.
"I don't do that anymore. Everyone is really nice to me now.
"Before I went to Maplewell I was really shy. I didn't talk to anyone else. I'm a lot more confident now. I enjoy meeting people and being on the TV, things like that."
A small army of friends and family will be courtside at Lancaster Boys' School to cheer our homegrown ace on in a fortnight's time.
"It's going to be really nice," she says. "I'm really excited. Everyone is going to get 'Zara' T-shirts, so that's going to be good.
"I used to get nervous when people watched me play, but not anymore. I like it now."
Zara, who works as a fitness coach for a local gym, has travelled the world playing tennis.
Gold in the ladies' singles final of the World Summer Games in China takes pride of place in a bedroom overburdened with medals, but success in her home town Olympics would trump that.
"I'm glad it's in Leicester, where I come from," she says. "Representing Leicester, where I was born, where I work, will be brilliant."
A place on the winner's podium, if it comes, will be underpinned by countless hours of hard work.
Zara practices for an hour and a half most days and spends another hour in the gym. Boyfriend Josh has even taken up the sport so he can help her train.
She will be playing in the women's doubles and mixed doubles in Leicester, but success in the singles is the one she most wants.
Zara counts herself as one of the favourites, providing she can find a way past a formidable rival called Melissa.
"I can't remember her second name," she says, "but she's really good.
"I've beat her and she's beat me. We played one time and the game went on from 3.30pm to 6.30pm. We had to move courts because the game went on so long. The one we were using had been booked by someone else."
Tony will be watching on sidelines, trying to keep a low-key presence so as not to distract Zara.
"I'd love to see her win. She's a great girl," he says. "Whatever happens, she's a winner in my book. She's come such a long way."
Emily Smith
If the power of positive thinking works as well as some sports psychologists believe, then Emily Smith is a dead cert for gold. Horse-rider Emily has thought of little else since she qualified for the equestrian finals last September.
She can picture it all: the win, the medal being slipped over her head, the banners being unfurled, the crowd cheering... the big McDonald's breakfast afterwards.
"I'm going to win gold," insists Emily matter-of-factly, "because gold is my favourite colour."
"Everyone is going to have banners with my name on," says the torrentially talkative 19-year-old from Thurlaston, "but they're not allowed to wave them until I've finished my event. Then they can go ballistic."
Mum Sarah worries Emily might be setting herself up for a fall with such ambitious talk of gold in her first Special Olympics, but she knows better than to write her off.
That her daughter can even dream of such a triumph is testament to her indomitable spirit.
"She's very stubborn," says Sarah before settling on another, better word to describe her daughter.
"Determined," she smiles. "She's very, very determined."
Emily was born with Down's Syndrome and a heart defect. Medics who carried out open-heart surgery gave her a 50/50 chance of survival. When she did pull through, her parents were told if their daughter managed anything more than walking and talking and feeding and dressing herself it should be seen as a bonus.
"There was a lot of prejudice back then," says Sarah. "Some surgeons still used to say you shouldn't waste resources on children with Down's Syndrome. They weren't worth operating on basically."
Emily's life and achievements have been one long bonus. She went to a mainstream school, she got a GCSE in English, she holds down a part-time job in a box-making factory and now, slightly unbelievably, the Olympics beckon.
"I'm doing lots of practice," says Emily who has ridden since the age of four, but has never competed on such a big stage before. "It's quite tiring. You have to be very quiet."
Emily will tackle three events with her 16-year-old pony Snazzy Tazzy: the dressage, an obstacle course, and an oral exam which will test her knowledge of riding techniques and how to look after horses.
Her sister Grace is her groom and her mum is taking care of her training.
Many competitors will be on borrowed riding school steeds. Emily will be on her own horse.
It's a dubious advantage. "Snazzy is a bit like Emily – he knows his own mind," laughs Sarah. "He's very honest and very kind, but he's not the best behaved of horses. If he's got an itch he'll go off and scratch it rather than concentrate on the job in hand."
She's become something of a local celebrity in Thurlaston since she made the Olympic team, cutting the ribbon on a refurbished local pub and opening the village carnival.
Predictably, she's loving all the attention that is coming her way, says her mum.
There will be a few snakes in Sarah's stomach when Emily competes, but the overwhelming emotion will be pride – however well she does.
"The whole family is looking forward to it," says Sarah. "Emily is going to stay in the Olympic village eating nice meals at the Walkers Stadium. Grace will be camping out with the other helpers on Abbey Park.
"Emily qualified for the Special Olympics almost 17 years to the day since she had her heart operation.
"That was quite a poignant moment. We never dreamed she would be doing all this back then. We didn't dare to dream. We're all very proud of her. If she gets gold we'll never hear the end of it."
Christina Lewis
Swimmer Christina Lewis speaks with extraordinary care, making sure not to muddle her sentences or botch the pronunciation.
She's an articulate and thoughtful talker, but listen very, very carefully and you can almost hear the work going into those words.
Christina has dyspraxia, a syndrome that somehow scrambles your verbal and physical co-ordination. Even simple things like catching a ball or tying your shoelaces don't always come easily when you've got dyspraxia.
All of which is a roundabout way of saying what a remarkable young woman Christina is for: a) for patiently answering a barrage of daft questions from a journalist who knows next to nothing about competitive swimming ("Er, freestyle? Is that the old name for front crawl, then?") and b) for reaching the very top in her sport.
Put the 21-year-old from Hinckley in a pool and she is poetry in motion, a top-class athlete who leaves rivals and the clutches of dyspraxia trailing in her elegant wake.
"Swimming makes me feel good," she says. "When I'm in the water everything comes naturally.
"It took me a couple of years to be able to do some of the things, I used to go in fits and starts, but I'm pretty good now."
By "pretty good", Christina means a genuine contender for gold in the 400m freestyle, the 200m individual medley (the event where competitors do all four strokes, she patiently explains) and the 200m breaststroke – her personal favourite.
Christina has been swimming for 16 years and has trained and competed all over the world, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Rebecca Adlington and paralympic champ Eleanor Simmonds.
"They're quite friendly," she says. "They wish me luck and all the rest of it."
Christina is training six times a week for the Special Olympics, squeezing sessions in the pool at Hinckley Leisure Centre between a hectic schedule of volunteering.
"I do a lot of voluntary work for mums and tots and different children's groups and a local day centre," she says. "I also sell baby clothes on the market to raise funds."
Competing in the county in such a big event is going to be special.
"I'll probably have a few butterflies when it all starts, but I'm OK at the moment," she says. "If I can get gold in my home town it will be so nice. I like going on the internet and people are already wishing me luck on MSN. It's going to be great."
Rhys Milton
When Rhys Milton was born, dad Richard used to dream idly of kicking a ball around a park with him.
The kind of daydream all new dads have. Richard's was shattered within a matter of days.
The doctors couldn't quite put their finger on it but there was "something not quite right" with Rhys, they said, as they took him away for a raft of tests.
As the other mums returned home, Rhys was taken to intensive care at the Leicester General. They were worrying, dark days for Richard and wife, Sharon.
"I refused to believe there was anything wrong," says the 47-year-old business development manager of Botcheston, west Leicestershire.
"He was a bit floppy at first, I suppose, and as he grew he had no muscle tone." And yet still, said Richard, there didn't seem to be a great deal wrong with him.
Physically, there isn't. Mentally, Rhys has an undiagnosed learning difficulty.
Eighteen years on, not one doctor or medical expert has been able to put their finger on what Rhys has, or been able to pinpoint what might have caused it.
The Milton family have had to make do with the wholly inadequate explanation that it's just one of those things.
It doesn't matter any more, says Richard. It's all immaterial. What matters is that later this month, Rhys will walk tall into the Special Olympics in his home city of Leicester.
Search all you like but you'll struggle to find a prouder father than Richard Milton this summer.
Rhys – a Manchester United and Liverpool fan who did grow up to play football – is an Olympic bowler. During the rigorous selection process, his team were judged the sixth best in the country.
It's not about podiums or medals or personal bests, says dad Richard. It's an old cliche but it really is about the taking part.
"Everyone who takes part will get a medal," he says.
"I hope he does well but I'm just proud he's there. He's so excited, and really looking forward to it. We all are.
"What I like about the games is how they shine a light on something that usually goes unreported and unseen.
"It's great that these guys get a bit of positive publicity. They have huge abilities and have done so well so it's right that their achievements are recognised."
Last week, a man turned up with a package at Rhys's home. Inside was Rhys's official England tracksuit. It looks smart. Suddenly, says dad, it all feels very, very real.
Rhys is counting down the days. "I'm looking forward to it," he says.
"It will be good fun. I'm looking forward to getting together with the team – and I'm really looking forward to having breakfast and dinner every day at the Walkers Stadium. That will be brilliant."
Rhys won the Paul Nixon Trophy at a recent awards ceremony at the RNIB College in Loughborough in recognition of his sporting achievement. The Olympics will top off a memorable year, says Richard.
"When the doctors tell you that your son has some kind of learning difficulty it's only natural that you wonder what the future will hold for them.
"I was worried for him. But there was no need. He can do things I could only dream of. He's a better footballer than me, that's for sure, and I'd never challenge him to a game of bowls. He'd wipe the floor with me."
The Special Olympics kicks off on July 25 with an opening ceremony at the Walkers Stadiums, and plays out over seven days at 21 venues.
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