July 15, 2009
No, this is not boring.
As I sit here in the war room watching Tour de France coverage on TV and reading it on Velo News dot com, I am thinking about how many people out there in TdF viewer land think that what they are seeing in the first week(s) of this great race is boring. I am reminded of the times when the whole peloton was booed in various Belgian races because the fans didn’t think we were going fast enough. Dames en Heren, the flat stages are not boring – you just need to adjust your perspective.
First of all, without the flat stages you would see no good racing in the mountains. No, if the Tour de France did nothing but race in the big mountains, cycling would be like marathon running and TdF contenders would weigh less than 120lbs. Attacks would be anemic and the heroes of the sport would have all the charisma and charm of a rest stop bathroom.
Now don’t think for even a minute that I do not find marathon runners to be some of the most amazing endurance athletes in the world, it’s just that the truly great Tour moments are the brutal one on one (or more) battles that more closely resemble a boxing match than a running race.
What makes cycling the beautiful sport that it is, is the diversity of the thing – there’s something for everyone. We here in the United States seem to equate road cycling with higher education, affluence and technology. Yeah … “cycling is the new golf.” But for the rest of the cycling world, cycling is a blue-collar escape from tedium. When I moved to Belgium, my first training partner was a swing-shift tire factory worker riding a bike that his “supporters club” paid for. He was, for all intents and purposes, the town’s hero – Friday Night Lights style. And guess what … that tire maker could ride a bike really well.
In the flat stages of the Tour de France, you see riders that you’ve never heard of going out on all-day suicide missions – their names and photos have never been printed in your favorite cycling magazines. Yet these no-hopers could come to any of our Wednesday night world championships and clean out collective clocks – guaranteed.
Then there are the sprint finishes. In my book I alluded to crashing an airplane. This is a true story. I really did crash one. While it was more of a fender bender than a freeway-closing ordeal, it was an airplane and a crash and, for the same money I could certainly be a pile of ashes in the burned grass next to a runway. Thankfully for me, that is not the case. That being said, I would gladly take my chances with the FAA and fire before subjecting myself to another European bike race sprint finish – those things are terrifying.
First of all, you’re going mach 3 with your hair on fire and then someone decides to punch you in the ribs. You want to stay where you are but are having a hard time because you can no longer breathe. The whole peloton shifts from one side of the road to another and then back again. Somebody hits their brakes hard enough that you smash into the side of the guy in front and on the right side of you. He swears at you in French and you tell him to “F-off” in English and swing your fist at his head while riding in tight quarters at 35 mph. The whole pack shifts to one side or another and you find yourself head butting the dude next to you just to stay upright. You hit your brakes, sprint, hit your brakes, sprint, punch the guy next to you, breathe, panic and then breathe again.
Folks, this is just the view from 50th place. Flat stages may not offer up the big time gaps the mountain ones do, but there is no lack of racing going on. Give it another look next time.
First of all, without the flat stages you would see no good racing in the mountains. No, if the Tour de France did nothing but race in the big mountains, cycling would be like marathon running and TdF contenders would weigh less than 120lbs. Attacks would be anemic and the heroes of the sport would have all the charisma and charm of a rest stop bathroom.
Now don’t think for even a minute that I do not find marathon runners to be some of the most amazing endurance athletes in the world, it’s just that the truly great Tour moments are the brutal one on one (or more) battles that more closely resemble a boxing match than a running race.
What makes cycling the beautiful sport that it is, is the diversity of the thing – there’s something for everyone. We here in the United States seem to equate road cycling with higher education, affluence and technology. Yeah … “cycling is the new golf.” But for the rest of the cycling world, cycling is a blue-collar escape from tedium. When I moved to Belgium, my first training partner was a swing-shift tire factory worker riding a bike that his “supporters club” paid for. He was, for all intents and purposes, the town’s hero – Friday Night Lights style. And guess what … that tire maker could ride a bike really well.
In the flat stages of the Tour de France, you see riders that you’ve never heard of going out on all-day suicide missions – their names and photos have never been printed in your favorite cycling magazines. Yet these no-hopers could come to any of our Wednesday night world championships and clean out collective clocks – guaranteed.
Then there are the sprint finishes. In my book I alluded to crashing an airplane. This is a true story. I really did crash one. While it was more of a fender bender than a freeway-closing ordeal, it was an airplane and a crash and, for the same money I could certainly be a pile of ashes in the burned grass next to a runway. Thankfully for me, that is not the case. That being said, I would gladly take my chances with the FAA and fire before subjecting myself to another European bike race sprint finish – those things are terrifying.
First of all, you’re going mach 3 with your hair on fire and then someone decides to punch you in the ribs. You want to stay where you are but are having a hard time because you can no longer breathe. The whole peloton shifts from one side of the road to another and then back again. Somebody hits their brakes hard enough that you smash into the side of the guy in front and on the right side of you. He swears at you in French and you tell him to “F-off” in English and swing your fist at his head while riding in tight quarters at 35 mph. The whole pack shifts to one side or another and you find yourself head butting the dude next to you just to stay upright. You hit your brakes, sprint, hit your brakes, sprint, punch the guy next to you, breathe, panic and then breathe again.
Folks, this is just the view from 50th place. Flat stages may not offer up the big time gaps the mountain ones do, but there is no lack of racing going on. Give it another look next time.
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8 Responses to “No, this is not boring.”
Reading the comments section on the various online feeds, it’s clear that the people who think the race is boring are also the same people who have no idea how bike racing actually works.
It’s not stupidity or blatant ignorance, just the fact that for most people, even recreational cyclists, the only time competitive cycling’s on their radar is during the month of July.
Viewers of these feeds ought to be forced to read a primer on the sport of cycling, maybe even this blog, to get it into their heads why cyclists do the things they do.
At least then I wouldn’t be so annoyed when Velonews or Boulder Report explain yet again what the green jersey means or why Lance isn’t in a three-man breakaway.
Guiseppe, I think there is a lot of tension built up as to whether Big Tex and and the little brown elf will fight each other out. Sure, the sprint finishes are good, but what is so exciting about Cav slaying all. He’s good. He’s young. But he ain’t no Cipo. My friend Rev Big Ring said it best in a recent Twitter comment: the Tour so far is like a porno where the cable guy really is just there to fix the cable. Where’s the money shot?
Firstly, fantastic description of fighting for your place in the bunch!
Also, I totally agree about the blue-collar aspect to European cycling. As you rightly say, for a lot of these guys, being a pro cyclist is the only possible escape from working in menial jobs. Indeed, my own personal hero, Robert Millar, spoke in exactly those terms; the pain of working so incredibly hard to become a pro cyclist was preferably to spending your life in a factory.
As I say, my hero is Millar, so I adore watching the tour when it goes into the mountains but if you don’t get chills watching someone like Mark Cavendish rocketing towards the finish line, then there is something wrong with you
Thanks for a great post.
Scott.
Very vivid description of what it’s like to be in a bunch sprint. And to respond to Zach, I’m a recreational/wanna be racer who follows all the races, not just in July. I don’t claim to be an expert, but I certainly understand why Lance isn’t in a 3-man breakaway!
@Linda Jellison:
I guess I should’ve put a “some” in there.
The problem hasn’t been the flat stages. I love a good sprint finish. It’s dangerous and unpredictable — today’s was a perfect example, with Farrar almost stealing one.
The problem has been that the Pyrenees stages weren’t at all decisive. The climb to Arcalis (Stage 7) was not hard enough to be decisive. On Stages 8 and 9 the final climbs of the day were so far from the finish that they were effectively neutralized. The only decisive days were the first day’s ITT and the TTT, which has made it very, very difficult for any team but Astana to win the Tour. Why the organizer’s included two long TT’s in the first week is baffling. It has ruined the race for the overall.
We’ll be 2/3’s through the Tour BEFORE there are any decisive mountain stages. Now that’s boring. Giro was a much better race — there was excitement every day.
[...] – Maillot, author and longtime pro Joe Parkin had an interesting commentary about the “boring” middle stages the other day. I’m in the middle. On the one [...]
JP, is your point that Le Tour isn’t boring if you’re riding in it? I have not doubt, and your background notes are interesting insight, but make it no less boring to watch the tour. I have to disagree with you (and Kim). Le Tour is painfully scripted for a variety of reasons, the only interesting things that happen from this viewer’s point of view are those that aren’t scripted. Like when a DS gets mad for some arcane reason, sends the boys to the front in the crosswinds, shreds the peloton and burns the script. Oh no, unexpected time gaps!! The whole reaction around stage 3 makes my point better than I ever could. A genuine spontaneous, unpredicted race situation shocks the cycling press and the fan base. And the hilariously ironic thing is that it was a reaction to another team that wouldn’t do what it was supposed to.
Shorter stages! No radios! GC contenders attacking on Massif Central stages! Sacre bleu, I don’t understand how important long boring stages are to sponsors, and the exposure narrative that the teams sell them!
Hope you’re doing well in Cali! The weather back home is reminding me of S Cruz this summer.
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