Radios: They’ve made it possible for us to gather news and information, and to communicate with each other more quickly than we could with ink, paper and ponies. They’ve allowed for advancements in navigation in the air, on the sea and on the ground. They’ve brought music into the homes and cars of people everywhere.
The radio communication that we’ve become accustomed to in cycling – the direct director to rider lifeline, however, hasn’t benefitted the sport, so it pleases me immensely that for at least 2 stages of this year’s Tour de France, radios on riders are verboten – or at least that is the intention.
Kent Wesselman - Winona, MN
That's a fine question, Kent - one that I have gotten frequently over the years. I find it funny that a person from Minnesota is asking that, seeing as how the land of 10,000 lakes is one giant, frozen tundra for about 8 months out of the year. But then again, since I lived in Minnesota long enough to freeze my bones completely, I will quit hassling you.
Belgium has terrible weather - no questions asked. It does, however, have an absolutely fanatical cycling culture and the racing is tough. On any given day, an amateur racer can choose from any number of races, where it is not necessary to be on a team. All I had to do was show up and race. It was great.
Racing in Belgium absolutely, positively made me tough enough to be a pro. I am not sure it is the greatest choice for everyone, (I wouldn't send a true climber there) but it was a good one for me. Whether or not you want to go seek fame and fortune in Europe as a bike racer, make sure you make it to Belgium someday for the Classics.
A few weeks ago Gary B at BikeRadar.com woke up my old memory banks with a shotgun blast of great old “flying V” bike racing victory salutes. Since this blast of photos was flying at me via Twitter, and I am competitive, I set out to find my favorite victory salute of all-time, made by Pol Verschuere. It is hard to see from the video (about a minute in) but Pol gives a defiant “Blank You” upon winning the first stage of the 1986 Tour de France. Being an insider in the European pro peloton back then afforded me some of the hot scoop – probably more than I needed, or wanted to know, but I got it anyway. Pol’s forearm under forearm, fist high gesture was directed at his Fagor team bosses, who’d cut him from their Tour de France roster just a few weeks before the race, only to bring him back onto the squad just a few days before the start, to replace a sick teammate.
“See guys, you shouldn’t have cut me from the squad in the first place. I just gave you a stage win. Take that!”
In the words of Arlo Guthrie though, “but that’s not what I came here to talk about.” I didn’t come here to talk about victory salutes, but one of cycling’s old characters.
I wish the Astana team had a sprinter to go along with their GC contenders. Yes, I know that with that many potential TdF winners, there’d really be no way to support a sprinter. I guess I will have to just hope that one of the guys pulls on a yellow jersey quickly and that Bruyneel decides to go ahead and defend the thing. Yeah, I know that won’t happen either but a guy can hope.
With all the Lance, Levi, and Alberto hype running up to the Tour de France this year, something important has been overlooked. Wim Vansevenant will not be going for his fourth consecutive Lanterne Rouge. Nope, like the great champions do, Vansevenant retired on top – or on bottom, depending upon how you look at it.
A Dog in a Hat celebrates the glory of bike racing, but thrillingly tells the hard reality of professional cycling and sheer physical agony of racing day after day. Buy the book.
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