Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateaux—Nimes, 159km
Well, it was a predominantly flat stage, but there was action out of the gates. It was fierce fighting for the breakaway and there were opening echelons forming from the attacks and the wind. But a thirteen-man break soon went up the road, and the stage settled down. Then before we knew it with 90km to go the breakaway had a 10-minute lead. Behind in the peloton, UAE was the only team riding on the front. Mark Cavendish and his Deceuninck-Quickstep Wolfpack team were nowhere to be seen, for one reason or another they were taking a day off from record chasing. Perhaps the carnage of Ventoux was too much and especially the sprinters needed an easier day to get their legs back. Thus it would be a day for the riders of lesser fame to elevate and increase their glory, perhaps to take the biggest win of their career.
But this 13-man breakaway was not made up of slouches. They were not cannon fodder, nor were they just the roster-rounders-out, most of the men that made this breakaway were the most physically built—perhaps in a sense, even burly riders of the peloton. Surely, they must have taken advantage to form off the crosswind echelons, thus these were some of the best echelon riders. Famously smaller of build sprinters like Mark Cavendish and some diminutive Colombians like Arkea’s Nairo Quintana always go well in echelons, but predominantly the riders who preform best in the crosswinds are the bigger riders in the peloton who have the frame and muscles to lay down the most powerful watts. Typically these bigger men are suited to sprinting, time-trialing, and/or the fierce Cobbled Classics requiring explosive efforts; all domains where weight is not much of a hindrance like it is in the mountains. Then additionally, these bigger riders that go well in the crosswinds are naturally some of the strongest riders available for a breakaway trying to hold off the peloton; conversely were these riders in the peloton they would be some of the best men available to chase down the breakaway. Allow me to increase the fame and renown of these men while simultaneously measuring how well they stack up to my categorization of the optimal riders for this stage. Israel Start-Up Nation’s now veteran Andre Greipel the Gorilla—an appropriately given nickname if ever there was one—was one of the greatest and most powerful sprinters of the last generation. Trek’s Edward Theuns, BikeExchange’s Luka Mezgec, and Total Energie’s Edvald Boasson Hagen all have a good pedigree in the Classics and sprinting especially from reduced bunches. Groupama’s Stefan Kung and EF’s Stefan Bissegger are both Swiss and both world class time-trialists. Movistar’s Imanol Erviti, Bora’s Nils Politt, and Arkea’s Connor Swift all have done well at the role of being their team’s GC leader’s guide and bodyguard on the flat days in addition to throwing down opportunist attacks across the flat. Lotto Soudal had two riders in this break: of Brent Van Moer’s attacking breakaway prowess across the flat and rolling nothing need be said beyond telling the listener to revisit Stage 4 of this Tour. This Lotto team’s Harry Sweeney was a bit more of an unknown quantity in this his neo-pro year, but going off his weight and statistics on ProCyclingStats he is a promising sprinter. Finally, the breakaway was rounded out by Quickstep’s Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer, and Qhubeka’s Sergio Henao. These last two do not fit the burly big muscled and big powered description stated above. But Alaphilippe and the other showmen of this generation have shown the stereotypical specialized rider molds can be broken with a combination of the following: confidence in one’s vast Range of abilities, a love of dynamic and unbridled racing, and a daring amount of extreme ambition to take victory—hopefully—by any legal means possible. UAE did not have a desire or reason to keep things in check early on, but if they had—even with Quickstep’s help—they would have had a difficult time bringing this powerful breakaway back.
And this breakaway worked well together for the first two-thirds of the stage. Truly there is not much else to report until 50km to go. By 50km to go, the break had some sort of unassailable 14-minute lead on the peloton, and with threatening winds and the “light at the end of the tunnel” within metaphorical sight, it was time to begin the thrilling endgame. Bora’s Nils Politt kicked off the attacks. The next 15km would be an unaccountable series of attacks, chases, bridges, and regroupings. It was a dice roll for which attack would stick. Who could attack at what in hindsight would be identified as the perfect moment? Which strongest competitors would have just finished attacks or catches of their own and—even if just for that moment—did not have the strength to follow that most opportune move? A move that was opportune because the very strongest or the next strongest guys were not prepared to be the one to chase and lockdown that move as soon as it was attempted. It is the classic situation where the strongest guy does not always win, because in such a situation surely everyone will be instantly willing to mark the historically strongest riders—because if they get any sort of gap it will be nigh on impossible to get them back. This is where some truth is manifested about the superstitious Curse of the Rainbow Jersey. To win the Rainbow Jersey means you are a proven champion, if you are a proven champion you are naturally going to be marked out as one of the best men to be aware of. And when you wear the Rainbow Jersey…you stick out like a sore thumb. Thus through this 15km of ferocious series of attacks, not only was Julian Alpahilippe the Champion of the World marked every time he even put in half-a-dig, many of the others subconsciously put the burden on him to chase down many of the other attackers. Alaphilippe did his best, but of course even he is human and could not cover all the attacks. Finally, the elastic had to break and some one or a few had to get away.
Once again under the impetus of Nils Politt, with 35km to go, a group of four finally had a defined gap. The said Politt was here, riding for Bora whose Rockstar Peter Sagan did not start today citing knee problems from his crash with Lotto’s Caleb Ewan. Groupama’s Stefan Kung was in the move, what a great result this would be for the team if Kung could finally a nab the Tour win after he came so close in the Stage 5 Time Trial. Movistar’s veteran Imanol Erviti was here, and O! how that Spanish team could use a stage win. And the quartet was rounded out by the true young opportunist Harry Sweeney of Lotto Soudal, not yet on his hands and knees on Stage 12 of his first ever Grand Tour. In order to not let any of the chasers behind get back into the picture, these four immediately started rotating and working well together. While, inevitably, the chasers’ cohesion imploded as one or two of them would try to bridge across the gap solo, but to no avail because other chasers would try to latch onto them for a free ride. That is the strategy and tactics of it, should the 2nd group have good cohesion, perhaps with even rotations they could steadily eat into the leading four’s gap; but by this point some were on their last legs and only wanted to hitch a ride up, Brent Van Moer would not help to chase down Lotto teammate Sweeney up front, and even the strongest men like Alaphilippe could not bridge a 30-second gap by themselves or with only one or even two others. Thus within a few kilometers, the gap stabilized above 30 seconds and it seemed this leading quartet were the only ones still left with a chance to take the stage.
It was a fun finale to watch beyond the tactical racing itself. The gravitas of the Tour permeated this end game. Kung has been agonizingly close to Grand Tour stage wins before, but never taken one. Politt and Evriti rarely get totally free opportunities to ride for themselves. And Harry Sweeney is a neo-pro (a rookie for Americans) in uncharted territory and easily on the biggest stage he’s ever been on. Yes, whichever of these four men won: this—a Tour de France stage win—would be the biggest victory of their career…and we all had front row seating to watch it happen. Even if they never won anything ever again after today, their career would be completely made. For the rest of his life every July, he will be able to walk into a bar and see the Tour playing on some TV—even if it’s only in the corner—and he will be able to say to his companions, the bartender, and the strangers seated near him: “You see that race,” pointing to the TV showing the Tour, “I once won a stage of that greatest race in the world. I beat the best men in the world. That stage was a culmination of years of dedicated training and honed race-craft. It was one of the most seminal days of my life.” Then those near shall be thoroughly engrossed to hear his tale of the day he won a Tour stage while also watching another reach the same career zenith on the TV as well. The bartender shall give the rider a few drinks on the house, and everyone will go home happy at the end of the night having heard such an inspiring story. This is the power of the Tour de France, and that is best highlighted by stages like these where the fewer-star favorites seize their rare chance of glory.
Seeking this most hallowed win, on the quartet rode. Despite a minute gap on the chasers, and a 15-minute gap on the peloton, these four were giving it everything and flying: at this point the hard efforts were to find separation between themselves. The last big challenge they would have to face would be an uncategorized climb that began around 15km to go. The climb would be nothing compared to Mont Ventoux, and probably not even worth of a Category4 status; but raced so fiercely and at the end of this stage after 12 days of racing, it could be hard enough to catch someone out. And like clockwork the climb did catch out Stefan Kung. Alas! Alas! Only one man can win the stage though all four were so deserving. But on the other three rode, strengthen by the thought of one less rival to out ride or out fox. Steadily the three climbed in unison on the rising road, all equal matches for each other, all completely laying down the power and the most massive watts they could push. But with just under 12km to go, surely as the uncategorized climb was about to be finished, Nils Politt used his last bullet.
Nils Politt had been one of the big instigators kicking off the finale two or three dozen kilometers ago. He was one of the riders always towards the front making or following every move that went off. He was definitely one of—if not the—strongest in the break today. Using the aggressive strategy to go with everything, he had made the elite quartet. The climb and high pace found out Stefan Kung, and Politt then only had to get the better of Erviti and Sweeney. He could have waited to follow and mark their moves, even counterattacked, or worked to hold it together for a sprint. But in end—trusting to his powerful strength and flying form flaunted throughout the day—he opted to put all his eggs in one basket: launch one big attack that neither could follow and then hold the gap. No catting-and-mousing, the time for cagey and opportunistic tactics was over, Politt was ready to fire his last shot—spend his last bullet—to win this stage by pure power. And that is what he did. He used the last bits of uphill to find the separation, and on that slope neither Erviti nor Sweeney could even get out of the saddle to attempt to mark him. Then riding over the top his momentum built up on the downhill, he was fueled by the successful progress he was making, and he was single-mindedly focused on the achieving the greatest result of his career. Over the top Erviti and Sweeney could not put any dent into Politt’s growing advantage, and thus around 8-or-7km to go they knew the writing was on the wall—resigned to fight for second place. Politt would solo into Nimes alone and be able to soak in the cheers of the final-straight crowd as he won his first Tour de France stage. Congratulations, Nils, O! how you lived up to your first name so well today. Recently I was listening to the biography of the most famous star-voyager whose first name is from a similar etymological origin as yours. Yes, yes, the name Nils or Neil derives from a ubiquitous Northern European word meaning: Champion. Champion Politt today you surely were. You shall cherish the day forever, Nils, forget not a detail of the race. For surely on a July afternoon two decades from now when you walk into a bar where the Tour is playing, all shall be impressed to hear the story of your day of glory at the greatest race in the world.
Cycling Odysseys 