Figure skater Alina Zagitova reminds us that a coach is not a parent

According to the Instagram page figureskating_sportsru, Alina Zagitova is reportedly the only pupil of Éteri Tutberidze – the ‘tsarina’ of Russian figure skating who ‘breaks down her athletes to build them up again’ – who has not ended her collaboration with her after competing at the Olympics. According to the page’s administrators, there have been numerous champions who, in the past, have decided to end their collaboration with Tutberidze: Lipnitskaya in 2014; Medvedeva in 2018; Trusova in 2022; Shcherbakova in 2024; and, most recently, Valieva, following the end of her doping ban, in 2025. In recent days, according to the same page, Adeliia Petrosian, the 19-year-old rising star of Russian figure skating – who was expected to demonstrate at the Milan-Cortina Games that ‘without Russia, it’s not a real Olympics’ – is said to have made the same choice.

The news of her decision triggered a Pavlovian-style reaction amongst fans back home, with comments that speak for themselves: “Ingratitude is rife amongst athletes,” declares one commenter; “What happened was that, after her failure, Adeliia automatically blamed her coach: it’s sad,” speculates another; “Adeliia has done something stupid! Just like the others! Girls, who’s your boss?”, a third user finally admonishes. These are familiar sentiments in the sport. The classic condemnation that befalls athletes who, guilty of ingratitude and disloyalty, decide to end their partnership with their coach. Condemnation that I have seen and heard time and time again first-hand during the many years I’ve spent between the pool and the poolside. In my experience, in fact, I’ve learnt all too well how the coach-athlete relationship is often burdened with aspects that shouldn’t concern it, to the point where the coach no longer sees themselves merely as a coach, but as a parental figure: a second father or a second mother. The swimming pool – in my case; the running track, in Adeliia’s case – is not perceived as a place of commitment, challenge and personal growth, but as an extension of the family home. This is how the agreement between coach and athlete ceases to be a delegation of responsibility and becomes a bond of blood.

The result of this cultural distortion is a widespread and latent toxicity that poisons the careers of far too many athletes. If the coach is equated with a ‘father’ or ‘mother’, in fact, an athlete who chooses to change coach or team is not simply making an adult, mature and responsible decision about their career: they are committing the most painful of betrayals – the child who, stabbing them in the back, abandons the parent who has nurtured and protected them. Seeking one’s own path is seen as something incomprehensible and unacceptable, and it is not uncommon to see ‘seasoned’ coaches cutting ties with athletes ten, twenty or thirty years their junior – the ‘ungrateful children’ who have betrayed them. But – and it seems absurd to actually have to write this – a coach is not a parent, and an athlete is not a child, especially at the levels of Adeliia and Éteri. Does the relationship sometimes develop elements common to a parent-child relationship? Yes, with its positive and negative aspects (a sense of security and protection; fear of letting the other down and of one’s own desire for independence). Should the relationship be shaped and maintained along those lines? From experience, I’d say it’s better not to. Coach and athlete are two human beings – adults in some cases, young adults in others – who are independent and competent, and who choose, day after day, whether or not to collaborate towards a common goal; and only if they remain as such does the exchange of skills produce value.

Over time, this collaboration can become entrenched: the dynamics of the relationship stagnate around more or less rigid patterns of perception and reaction; unspoken issues and misunderstandings come between the coach’s instructions and the athlete’s confidence in carrying them out; the visual-cognitive and creative abilities of both parties become stunted by the ‘familiar’, making it harder to see – and think – beyond what is expected. And all of this is perfectly normal.

Our bodies and minds, in fact, have been masterfully optimised by evolutionary pressures, so that they function not by seeking the ‘best possible outcome’, but rather the ‘minimum satisfactory outcome’: expending the bare minimum necessary to achieve a satisfactory result. Any further investment, therefore, whether physical or cognitive, requires valid reasons to be made. In this sense, a different team or a new coach can transform the familiar into the unfamiliar, the known into the unknown, and thus provide useful stimuli to persuade one’s systems to produce and make new resources available, rather than relying on previous, already-optimised mechanisms (which are therefore unstimulating and incapable of fostering the organism’s growth). Renewal, in both sporting and personal development, is not an ‘extra’: it is a necessity. To continue evolving, at some point in their journey, almost every athlete will have to face situations in which they must part ways with their coach to seek ‘fresh eyes’ and new perspectives. And this is not a betrayal, unless we wish to regard the expertise acquired as a debt to be repaid. In that case, then, seeking a change might mean disavowing the work done previously; otherwise, it would simply mean that one has not yet stopped wanting to grow. As long as coaches and the public continue to expect athletes to show absolute, childlike devotion to the former, the need for autonomy will continue to be confused with ingratitude, and athletes will continue to be prevented from seeing themselves as ‘real people’.

As for Adeliia and Éteri, we cannot know for certain how the relationship – private and personal – between the two unfolded. We do not know whether Éteri reproached Adeliia for an alleged betrayal and possible ingratitude, or whether, on the contrary, she accepted and listened to her reasons, preserving their personal relationship beyond the end of their professional one. What I do feel I can say, however, is that Adeliia, simply by leaving her coach’s ‘ice palace’, has not betrayed any mother. In the course of her personal development and sporting career, the young skater has simply done what a mature professional is called upon, at a certain point, to do: she has taken responsibility for her own future. And it is now time for us too – the public and the coaches – to start expecting the same from other athletes.

Giorgio Minisini is a former Italian artistic swimmer, winner of 4 gold, 4 silver and 2 bronze medals at the World Championships, 4 gold, 5 silver and one bronze at the European Championships, as well as 12 gold medals in the World Cup. He was an icon of Italian artistic swimming (from Tuesday, you can hear his story on the ‘Il Foglio Fuori Campo’ podcast, available on all platforms). Having recently graduated with a degree in Psychological Sciences and Techniques from Sapienza University of Rome and still an active member of the Fiamme Oro Sports Group, he is beginning to contribute to "Il Foglio Sportivo".