2021 TDF Stage 4: Eucatastrophe at the Tour de France

Redon—Fougeres, 150km

What a day on the Tour de France we saw today. It was a day of such emotions, surely only the biggest race in the world can produce them. The agony of defeat and the ecstasy of victory were simultaneously on full display today. Our hearts went out to the loser, and our hearts were melted by the winner. We were gutted and dazzled at the exact same moment. We were deeply moved.

It was a standard “dog day” transition stage of the Tour de France until the business end finale. In the breakaway were only two riders: Pierre-Luc Perichon (Cofidis) and Brent Van Moer (Lotto Soudal). To the avid cycling fans, Brent Van Moer has become a familiar name in the past two months. It was he who was in the clip circulating social media of a rider solo in the lead of a Dutch one-day race being directed wrongly by a race official, and the misdirection cost Van Moer the win. Van Moer is also the rider than bounced back from this misfortune within a fortnight to take an even more valuable victory on the first stage of the Criterium du Dauphine—the most famous preparation race for the Tour de France. Perichon is a seasoned veteran, and Van Moer has already proven his quality this season. But to see their time gap well pinned to less than a couple of minutes all day by the large sprint teams, none of us gave these two breakaway artists much hope. In the last 20km the gap to the peloton was less than a minute, surely the sprinters’ teams were hungry for this stage win after many were encumbered by crash victims the day before. In the last 15km when Van Moer and Perichon began ratcheting up the pace and even putting in digs against each other, all only assumed they were duking it our for minor praises of who would be the last man left, who would receive the super combative award for the day as the most aggressive rider.

But this is 2021. This is a new era of cycling. Romantic strolls and down time are long gone and a relic of past. Teams get themselves in position to win, even in the daily long-range breakaway. There is a reason only two men were in the early break, it did not suit any other teams’ chances to win today. I have listed how he became a familiar name, we should not have been surprised when with 14km to go Brent Van Moer revealed he was not just rolling the dice in hopes of winning a most aggressive prize: Brent Van Moer was here to taken a maiden Tour de France stage win. When the gap was down to just 43 seconds, and Perichon could no longer sustain a pace that would help the pair stay away, Van Moer attacked this man who had been his de facto teammate for past 100+km. The chase was on, how would promising young Van Moer fair on highest level of the sport?

He was impressive. He was heroic. He has the Right Stuff to be a renown Breakaway Escape Artist among this prolific generation of young stars. Perhaps he has been taken under the wing of Lotto Soudal veteran Thomas De Gendt—the greatest Breakaway Escape Artist of his generation. Yes, yes, Brent Van Moer had all the time-trialing power required to pull off this late escape feat. He had all the cool calculation and poise to evenly exert himself to his optimal abilities for these final kilometers. He drove himself into the ground, and gave it everything he had. He made everyone viewing sit upright, glue themselves to the screen, tense up their muscles, even make them flex their quads in a riding motion as if they were with Van Moer and that would help him get to the line quicker. With 12km to go, his lead had extended to 55 seconds over the peloton. With 11km to go, his lead had extended to 1:02. At 9.6km to go, he had 1:06. Using the fabled rule of thumb: “One minute per every 10km” to reel in a breakaway on a flat stage…in Jim Carrey style we were all telling Brent Van Moer he had a chance. Behind the sprint teams were having trouble marshaling to the front. Too many General Classification teams were still concerned with being at the head of the race where it was safest to protect their overall contender. These GC teams did not really care about pulling back the solo escapee up front, who won the stage was none of their concern. Additionally, Van Moer’s Lotto Soudal teammates—with no Caleb Ewan team leader to protect, for he crashed out with a broken collarbone—were getting in the mix at the front as well to explicitly slow down the pace. Now, on the professional level, having teammates blocking on the front of the peloton to detract rivals from chasing down the breakaway is heavily frowned upon, is considered bush league, and creates bad karma for the team. Other teams and their sports directors in the cars will not forget these acts of malpractice come future races. And thus, on the rare occasions that blocking on the front of the peloton happens: I love to see it. It gives a hyper sense of urgency, it implies something special is going on if the team is willing to endure the ire of the rest of the peloton for their escapee up front to pull off such a special win. Thus thanks to his teammates creating disorder and chaos behind, Brent Van Moer still had a minute lead with 6km to go.

But the road widened. The sprint trains formed, came to the front, and laid down every ounce of power they had. It was now one man versus some 40 or 50 willing to contribute to the pace. It was underdog probabilities; it was a hero against an army. The gap finally began to tumble like a perfectly calculated physics equation projecting a rocket’s trajectory. With 4.2km to go the gap was back down to 43 seconds. With 3.1km to go, the gap was down to 33 seconds: we had entered the thrilling realm of “too close to call.” No expert had any idea which way it was about to go. Surely by now, Brent Van Moer had no energy to spare on panicking. All he could do was keep digging as deep as possible and get on with the task at hand. He was only 3 minutes away from career-culminating glory…and the pain being over. He was in tunnel finish squinting his eyes in hopes to see the line sooner than expected, hoping against hope every turn was the last of the day. Every single downhill inflated him with confidence, every slight rise taught him a lesson in fortitude. But on and on the peloton drove like a sandstorm, they were determined to barrage and envelop this solo escape artist Van Moer up ahead. With 2.2km to go the gap was down to 23 seconds, still it all hung in the balance! None could tell which way it was going to go! With 1.4km to go, the gap was down to just 14 seconds. O! Surely, surely, the peloton could see him now! And they had the bit between their teeth! But still Van Moer rode like a valiant warrior trying to stave off the unstoppable force. Under the Flamme Rouge, the Red Kite, signifying 1km to go, Van Moer looked back: he could see them, but it was all still in the balance. The peloton did not know if they were going to catch Van Moer. Van Moer did not know if he was going to stay away. And we watching were at the edge of our seats willing him on. With 500m to go, Van Moer was still away and clear by perhaps 100m, but now, now the peloton was ferociously bearing down, breathing on his very neck! Van Moer did not give in, surely his body would not have given him a choice—every sinew of his body was concentrated singly on crossing the finish line, no other thought in the world could pervade his mind at this time. But with 300m to go, the peloton had closed down to within 50m and the lead out men were reaching their maximum speeds. The upstart fairytale, the first rise of Van Moer was surely about to be dashed. The road dragged on a false-flat upwards, but still Van Moer was not caught until 150m to go. But in the end all the sprinters swooshed around him on his left, they would not be denied their day of glory.

Our hearts went out to young Brent Van Moer, for those last 15km we were invested in his story and tied to his fortune single mindedly. He was an underdog to which we average joes could relate. It was an example of heroism to us to see him doing something so exceptional: holding off the full might of a Tour de France peloton. The entertainment of the stage was contagious and undeniable to any human being. To see Van Moer’s dreams dashed gutted us deeply, to lose in such dramatic fashion shall be a psychological scar to this young hero. He shall wake up tomorrow and think it all a nightmare, though in reality he was the epitome of valiant for the finale of this Stage 4. Ah! But before we could share in his anguish, our attention was still enthralled. We still needed to see what would transpire in these final 150m. Which sprinter would take the spoils denied to Van Moer?

Then a strange thing happened. Just as we were bowing our heads in defeat with Van Moer, we clutched our hearts! We held our breath! We saw the winning sprinter emerge from around Alpecin-Fenix’s Jasper Philipsen in the closing dozens of meters, and waves of nostalgia hit us like a tsunami with terrestrial tons of force! We were transported back in time. We could not believe it, the sprinter that won could not believe it. There was instantly 105% consensus: “If Brent Van Moer had to be denied by the sprinters this day at the Tour de France, I am glad this man could do it.”

By now, by now, you have seen all the headlines. And you have now seen a seismic exception to the Law of Diminishing Returns. For surely his 1st Tour de France stage win was not as sweet as this 31st Tour de France win after all he has battled through to get back to this moment. Yes, yes, Deceuninck-Quickstep’s Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile, the living legend of old who has looked beaten and defeated like a shaggy mangy mutt well past his last legs and having carried on far too long…has once again reclaimed the mantle as the Fastest Man on Two Wheels. Cav has come full circle and ridden his way into a real-life fairytale.

In his first season with Dimension Data in 2016, I had considered Cavendish’s unexpected 4 Tour de France stage victories, his Olympic Silver Medal in the Omnium, and his Silver medal in the Road World Championships a resurrection of his career of sorts. But in 2017 he was plagued with illness and injury, he sunk to lower lows. It almost became sad to see him limp on. All yearned for him to just get any sort of last victory so that he could just end his career on some sort of not-low-note. But this is Mark Cavendish, one symbol “Cav,” who is part of that long lineage of illustrious cycling showmen. Nothing he does is quiet, his flame cannot suffocate down to a tiny ember and finally be snuffed out. Cavendish’s 2020 season almost ended in buckets of wailing tears, for this snuffing out did seem almost about to transpire when he could not find a contract for this season. But Patrick Lefevere took his chance on him with a return to Quickstep. Surely, Cavendish knew: if any team could help him turn his fortune around for one last hurrah it would be here at Quickstep, one of the fine teams in the world. They brought Cavendish to the second division Tour of Turkey where he got his mojo back barnstorming his way to four stage victories: that Tour of Turkey stopped the cycling world dead in its tracks and grabbed all our attention. When I had heard the news of the Quickstep transfer, in a cycling groupchat I immediately set the Over/Under on five wins for the season, thinking it was overly optimistic but would make for a great story. I then jokingly floated out there that though I would never want to see any misfortune come upon Quickstep’s top sprinter and defender of the Green Jersey the admirable Sam Bennett, it would be a fairytale moment to see Cavendish take his place in the Tour and win a few swansong stages. Unbelievably this has all now taken place, Bennett pulled out of the sprinters’ Tour-tune-up, the Belgium Tour, citing knee problems. Cavendish was slotted in and won a phenomenal stage against the rest of the top sprinters in the world. And though the Quickstep selection circumstances are still very murky, Cavendish was selected for the Tour and has now repaid his selection in spades. Cav was incredibly emotional in his interview, because Mark Cavendish is an experienced veteran. He gets it. He said in his interview, when he signed for Quickstep: He didn’t even think about riding the Tour. That’s the biggest race in the world, that’s for proven stars at the top of there game, not even once great ones are allowed to rock-up there without proven immediate good form. To have this all fall into place was greater than even Mark Cavendish’s grandiose dreams, even his ambitions have limits. And now today, after 13 years since his first stage win, Mark Cavendish has shocked not only the cycling world, but even himself as well.

Eight months ago, Cavendish was going to be put out of his misery as his career was about to be unceremoniously extinguished without any sort of sendoff. We were about to see the greatest sprinter in the history of the sport go out with such a gut-wrenching whimper, it would have turned many a romantic into a cold cynic. And in the spirit of the moment today, all of us fans had romantically dared to dream and put our weight behind that Van Moer underdog, but our hopes were dashed. And yet, within 10 seconds, before the brutal realism of cycling—which functions as a microcosm of human reality—painted upon us the grayest of bleak gray worldviews imaginable…a kaleidoscope of vibrant color and hope jarringly shattered that drab premature assumption of “reality” better than any Hollywood movie script ever could! My beloved J.R.R. Tolkien would call this a moment of eucatastrophe. “Catastrophe”: a sudden turn, or downward spiral…“eu”: the Greek prefix for “good.” Yes, yes, the finale of today’s stage, the events of Mark Cavendish’s career for the past 8 months have produced this “Good Catastrophe,” this unexpected “Good Twist” of events! Like I said, our hearts go out to Brent Van Moer, but if he was destined to lose this day at least it was to this sprinter of sprinters harnessing his one last shot to bring fairytales to life after such a long career.

Mark Cavendish took his 30th Tour stage win a long 5 years ago, today he took his 31st. He is now 3 Tour stages shy of tying Eddy Merckx’s record of 34. But honestly, no one can even handle talking about that—that conversation can begin if he wins another one this Tour—right now all are just too swamped trying to wade through and bask in the nostalgic vibes that have flooded us this day. Cav took his first Tour stage win 13 years ago in 2008. For me, truly that was all the way back when I was literally growing up—inch upon inch taller in my teenage years. I watched this Manx Missile in the peak of his powers. He is my original favorite rider. I found mountain stages to be utterly boring compared to the exhilarating military operations the HTC Highroad team conducted for their most adept and clutch leader of leaders, Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile, the Fastest Man on Two Wheels. He won on the Champs-Elysees an unrivaled four time. He took the scalp of every great sprinter of his generation and the next, few beat him once, only other legends beat him twice. And here is the spicy final thought of the day: the sport is now dominated by a generation of riders who shall still qualify for the White Jersey of Best Young Rider for years to come. Like me, these youngsters also grew up watching Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile at the peak of his powers over a decade ago. When they beat their schoolyard friends in a sprint past the fire hydrant on the neighborhood side street, they pretended they were Cav. When HTC Highroad was riding in formation on the front of the peloton in the closing kilometers of a stage, they would ignore their parents who told them to get up and clean their room. Mark Cavendish was part of Tadej Pogacar’s days of yore, now he is racing against him. Even Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer was young enough to look up to Cav the Manx Missile over a decade ago…now Alaphilippe—one of the top showmen of the new generation—had the honor today to help Cav the old veteran, Cav the living legend, take a swansong victory that made us all feel 10 years younger. Congratulations, Cav! And thank you for daring us to believe in fairytales once again.

2021 TDF Stage 3: Battle Scars

Lorient—Pontivy, 182km

It was a day of grizzly war on the Tour de France. O! So many of the riders rode in like shellshocked soldiers finally relieved from duty in the trenches, or like the Achaeans hauling their heavy armored bodies to their ships on the beaches of Troy after yet another long grueling day of war. To run through the casualty lists, to even try to count the crashes would be impossible affairs. It would be easier to count who made it through it all unscathed for surely it was no more than a tithe of the peloton. Mathieu Van Der Poel the Renaissance Madman wearing the Yellow Jersey played the finale masterfully as he rode not even for himself, but in service of his Alpecin-Fenix teammate Tim Merlier. Merlier has proven himself to be a fine and legitimate sprinter in recent years, and he proved it once more this day taking a massively fine victory over what remained of the decimated field. Yes, yes, Alpecin-Fenix were the only unscathed victors this day as they took their second stage win in a row.

The Ecuadorian Richard Carapaz finished in the lead group as well for the Ineos Grenadiers. Carapaz and Ecuador can quietly celebrate the good position, but already the Grenadiers must be weary. In the first two stages both Richie Porte and Tao Geoghegan Hart, nominal Grenadier team leaders, lost minutes on the General Classification (GC). And early on in this Stage 3, in the wet and rain, in the midst of the peloton: the Grenadiers’ fourth named protected rider, Geraint Thomas, crashed heavily. O! O! To see Thomas on the ground holding what looked to be a broken collarbone, why he looked like his legendary British or Welsh hero King Arthur succumbing to his battle wounds. Though mortally wounded in battle, legend says King Arthur was whisked away to the Isle of Avalon to nurse his wounds or go into an eternal sleep until he comes again at Britain’s Darkest Hour. Geraint Thomas could have done something similar: gone back to his training base in Monaco, even gone to rest and recover in Cardiff in Wales—not too far from this Brittany crash. But Thomas opted to battle on like a warrior, to pick himself up and keep fighting. He is one of the hardmen of cycling, it is not yet his time to go the way of Arthur to a lost Celtic Isle across the sea. Thomas and the rest of the Grenadiers survived the day. But all the leaders have now shipped off GC time to their rivals, save Carapaz who will soon ship time myself in the Time Trial on Wednesday. With the two mighty Slovenians still in the race, it has been predicted that the Grenadiers will need to play a tactically flawless race and use multiple GC riders to their advantage, but how are they to do that now with injuries and/or time losses for Thomas, Porte, and Geoghegan Hart?  

Alas! in that same Thomas crash, one man’s Tour did indeed end. Robert Gesink (Jumbo-Visma) was caught up in the crash, and his injuries were severe enough he had to abandon the Tour. Ah! Ah! How heartbreaking it must be for him and the Jumbo Wasps to see him go so early on while hopes were still so high. Jumbo leader Primoz Roglic came to this race in an attempt to take victory in an act of Relentless Redemption. To have one of the seven lieutenants leave with such injuries was like sending away one of the 300 Spartans early on after one of the early skirmishes on the Thermopylae pass. Ai! Ai! How that man would rue his injuries that took him away from his warrior-brothers in desperate need of every man they could acquire.

But Jumbo-Visma had far more problems to deal with on the day. With 10km to go, their team leader Roglic the Relentless hit the deck hard on a narrow road. There were pinch-points a plenty, the peloton was already nervous and exhausted, just a couple kilometers before Movistar’s Superman Lopez and Groupama’s David Gaudu had been caught up in their own crash as well. Roglic went down hard on his left side, on the far left side of the road. The shoulder and hip of his jersey were tattered and torn away. He was not quick to get up, a bike change was needed. A few Jumbo teammates were caught up in the crash as well, and more went back to help him. With only 10km left in the flat sprint stage, it was a ferocious chase to limit time losses; for it is not until inside of 3km to go that crash victims would receive the same time gap as the riders next to them. Roglic was physically bleeding and it shall affect him for the rest of the Tour, but in that moment the GC time bleeding was even worse. Like a soldier heavily wounded and gushing blood from a shrapnel explosion, Roglic and his team hurried to the finish where a GC-tourniquet could stop the time-bleeding. But the Jumbo Wasps could not make any dent in the peloton’s lead as the sprinters’ trains drove the pace for the slightly downhill final kilometers; only crashes further ahead that marred other GC favorites helped Roglic limit his losses. Jumbo’s only Pyrrhic victory was that Wout Van Aert finished with the leading group to maintain a high place on GC, but Roglic would finish 1:21 down on the stage winner Tim Merlier. There is no way around it, this was a heavy blow to his GC campaign.

And yet, as stated crashes further ahead did help Roglic limit his losses. Superman Lopez and the rest of Movistar finished in the same group as Roglic. Ahead, with only 4km to go, yet another crash held up or caught out many on GC, only Carapaz the Grenadier and a handful of sprinters with their lead out men managed to escape. In that crash, even the other mighty Slovenian would get caught up: Tadej Pogacar (UAE) wearing the White Jersey was spotted amongst the fallen casualties. Pogacar was quick to his feet and saddled up on the bike again, like the best of GC men he knew there was no time to ache or nurse his wounds until he had crossed the finish line: he too must limit his losses to his unscathed GC rivals ahead. Pogacar has entered this Tour with an air or aura akin to that of Young Beowulf returning home from Heorot after slaying Grendel and his Mother: he is a mighty hero and a warrior of great renown, no longer just the talented boy he was in 2019. To see even this talented and seeming impervious one get caught up in a crash was alarming. With him were Geraint Thomas, Estaban Chaves (Team BikeExchange), David Gaudu (Groupama-FDJ), and Sergio Higuita and Rigoberto Uran (both of EF Education-Nippo), all crossed the finish line 26 seconds down on the victorious Tim Merlier. But one man who did not get up from that crash, like Beowulf in his old age, was Bahrain Victorious’ Jack Haig. He lay there on the ground, but he had not the comfort of knowing he had slayed a dragon, a giant wicked worm. No, no, Jack Haig could only feel physical pain, and knowledge that his Tour de France was over before it had even gotten going. Ah! Ah! It is so cruel to see how brutal this sport can be. A whole season built around this race, and within an instant it ends in complete sorrow. Yes, yes, I think this would be the appropriate time to utter the cliché for the one and only time this Tour: Today was not a day you could win the Tour, but you sure could lose it.

If the unknowing reader thought all these crashes and casualties were now over with only 4km to go, they would be wrong. Still many fine sprinters had been at the front and were ready to show their paces in the finale after Mathieu the Renaissance Madman’s ridiculous bullet train lead-out while in the Yellow Jersey. The speeds were scorching and incredibly intense, the finish was on a slight downhill—something that has proven dangerous in the past of other races. In a typical sprinter’s fight for Merlier’s wheel were the Pocket Rocket Caleb Ewan (Lotto Soudal) and the Rockstar Peter Sagan (Bora-Hansgrohe). But on a gentle righthand curve with only a few hundred meters to go, as Ewan was moving up on the inside apex, Tim Merlier launched his final sprint. It appeared Ewan’s front wheel must have skimmed Merlier’s back wheel, for Ewan immediately lost control. Caleb Ewan’s front wheel swerved left and he crashed into Peter Sagan right next to him. Both skidded and screeched across the unforgiving payment and all stage honors were completely dashed. Peter Sagan was up quickly and hopped back onto his bike, not that he was in a hurry at this point, he crossed the finish line immediately and presumably went to the get checked out by a doctor. Surely, he knows, crashes such as these happen in such a sport as this. But Caleb Ewan the Pocket Rocket was very slow to get up. All the GC riders and their teammates who were hemorrhaging time flew by him as he lay injured on the ground in gruesome pain. Like all the other riders before him, Caleb Ewan too looked like a mortally wounded warrior from some ancient battle of old. In this instant, brave and unbowed Spartacus the gladiator-rebel comes to mind. Though so close to the line, Ewan was the last one to cross it. Surely, he shall have a tough time sprinting tomorrow, if he even starts the stage.

We lovers of cycling watched this whole stage finale with heavy hearts. None want to see GC campaigns marred or ended by crashes such as these. None want to see race ending injuries for any Tour rider who has worked so hard to be here. And yet all cycling lovers know this is of course part of the sport. For three stages we have seen the “ecstasy of victory” from the winners, their teams, and the cycling world. Today, we were served the first rounds of the inevitable “agony of defeat.” Not every battle can be won—unless you are Alexander the Great. No one is immortal—including Alexander the Great. Today was the sloppiest last 10km of cycling I have ever seen. Today was sober and somber viewing. The body counts were so high. It was not so much a question of which teams are in good position, but which teams are in the least worst position. The Ineos Grenadiers and the Jumbo-Visma Wasps are now both banged up from head to toe, even talented Beowulfian Pogacar has not survived unscathed. With still 18 stages to go, the war of attrition has properly begun.

2021 TDF Stage 2: The Renaissance Madman on the Mur-de-Bretagne

Perros-Guirec—Mur-de-Bretagne Guerledan, 183km

Another lovely day in Brittany as Stage 2 was set to finish with two passages up the Mur-de-Bretagne, “the Wall of Brittany.” There was breakaway action throughout the day to give us something to follow as the Tour traversed more beautiful rolling up-and-down country, and the proud Breton crowds were out in force once more. Ah! But alas! all of this action shall be shafted. For in the finale, all of it was blown away by already great champions adding another chapter or chronicle to their legend or saga.

Edward “Looney” Theuns (Trek-Segafredo) was the last man standing of the breakaway, and he was desperately fighting to hold off the peloton with 18km to go. Already he had locked up the super combatif prize for the day as the most aggressive rider, now his last goal was to get a last King of the Mountains Point on the Category4 hill into the town at the base of the Mur-de-Bretagne. Looney Theuns achieved this in the nick of time before he was swamped away by the peloton. Already the peloton was all-hands-on-deck, not just because this was the first passage up the Mur-de-Bretagne and position is always vital. No, not only was this the first passage up the Mur-de-Bretagne: at the top of this passage were available 8, 5, and 2 Bonus Seconds for the first three riders across the top. We have seen in the past that every second counts at the Tour de France, but especially in these early days when the gaps on the General Classification (GC) are still so small: any within a shout will take the chance to wear the Yellow Jersey, the Maillot Jaune of the Tour de France. The hilltop Bonus Seconds are not in every stage, but they were an addition by the organizers in an act of “nudge theory,” give the riders just a bit more incentive to race or sprint a little bit harder to kick off more action throughout the stage. They are in the same vein as the Finish Line Bonus Seconds of 10, 6, and 4 available to first, second, and third on the stage. Yesterday, when Quickstep’s Julian Alaphilippe won Stage 1 by 8 seconds over the chasing pack, a full 10 seconds was knocked off his GC time to give him an 18-second GC advantage over the rest of that pack who had not received additional Bonus Seconds for finishing in second and third on the day (those being: BikeExchange’s Michael Matthews and Jumbo’s Primoz Roglic).

With two passages up this Mur-de-Bretagne, the red-hot favorite was yesterday’s winner Monsieur Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer who wore no longer the Rainbow Jersey of World Champion but the Yellow Jersey as the GC Leader of the Tour de France. When a rider dominates a stage so thoroughly to dazzle us beyond belief, our brains, hearts, and memories are totally warped: “O! O! How can this Musketeer be bested tomorrow on a climb that suits his characteristics even better?!” But not all the riders had the minds of us giddy fans. Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer knocked it out of the park yesterday, but today competitors were ready to draw swords once again in an attempt to hold off lightning striking twice. Yes, yes, with all the Bonus Seconds available on both the passages of this Mur-de-Bretagne, the nudge theory went off with out a hitch. And who was bold enough to kick things off from long range? Why, of course, the Madman who always loves to kick things off from long range.

Mathieu Van Der Poel (Alpecin-Fenix) is the son of Dutchman Adri Van Der Poel, a decorated cycling champion of his generation. And Mathieu is also the grandson of Frenchmen Raymond Poulidor, one of the most famous cyclists of all time. Poulidor, affectionately referred to as Poupou, had the misfortune to span two generations of cycling that each had a supremely great champion. Yes, Poulidor raced against both Jacques Anquetil, Monsieur Chrono, and Eddy Merckx, the Cannibal. Between the three of them they won a combined 10 Tours de France. 5 Tours for Anquetil. 5 Tours for Merckx. 0 Tours for Poulidor, despite finishing on the Overall Tour podium a record 8 times. Unlike his grandson Mathieu, who I believe has become a greater rider thanks to his archrivalry with Wout Van Aert (Jumbo-Visma), Poulidor missed out on many victories because of Anquetil, Merckx, and the others of those eras. Now, in Poulidor’s defense he had a great palmares outside of the Tour de France, but his lack of winning at the Tour did generate his other nickname “the Eternal Second.” Combined his humble farming background with this nearly-man status, Poupou captured the hearts of every Frenchman over the course of his long career, it is well believed he is the most popular French cyclist of all time. O! How they all rooted for him to finally get over the hump and win, but not even for one day did he ever wear the Yellow Jersey as race leader of the Tour de France. It was this missing Yellow Jersey that Mathieu Van Der Poel came to this Tour de France to win for his late grandpa Poupou who passed away in 2019.

Yes, yes, on that first passage of the Mur-de-Bretagne, Van Der Poel lived up to the moniker I have dubbed him since his Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne antics at the beginning of this season: the Madman was on the attack for the first time at the Tour de France. How? How was I surprised to see him go on the attack? He did, he did actually play it safe and conventional yesterday. And what happened? In the end, he was bested by the better man on the day: Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer. Today, surely, Mathieu must not make the same mistake, he must always do the unexpected, he must be an even greater showman than the Musketeer. Even at the Tour de France, Mathieu the Madman cannot just play it safe. Unlike many others at the prestigious Tour who would rather not attack than risk losing big: the Madman goes for broke. And as we have seen this season on and off the road, Mathieu is not just the Madman. From winning Cyclocross Worlds, to winning in the Dubai crosswinds, to almost winning Kuurne while using it as a massive training session, to rocket launching to victory at Strade Bianche, to raising all eyebrows with multiple versatile Tirreno wins, to competing across all the biggest Cobble Classics, straight into podiuming Mountain Bike World Cups, then doubling straight back into winning multiple Suisse road stages….Mathieu Van Der Poel is a cycling Renaissance Man…or more accurately a Renaissance Madman.

Up, up this Mur—this Wall—he attacked! All the other GC and stage favorites let him go, not even the other Mighty Ace Wout Van Aert, the Champion of Belgium, tried to hawk down his archrival—was he on team duties riding and protecting Jumbo team leader Primoz Roglic, or did he have no desire to escape away with this Renaissance Madman? It was still unbelievable to see, that Mathieu the Renaissance Madman would try such a long range attack at the Tour de France to take not just the stage, but the Yellow Jersey as well—the Jersey his grandpa never wore. Mathieu had gone from the bottom steeper section of this Mur-de-Bretagne climb. He muscled his way up, he got a solid 7 second gap-or-so on the peloton behind. But as the road began to level out his gap stopped extending, for the rivals behind were winding it up for the Bonus Seconds sprint at the top. O! O! Had the Renaissance Madman miscalculated again as he did at Kuurne on the season’s Opening Weekend? Surely, surely, that is where the Madman name comes from: often Mathieu can play some tactics that are quite simply un-astute though always exciting to see. Then the admiration of us fans comes from when our jaws drop to see him over come his audacious tactical mismanagements and still take the day by sheer strength, power, and unrivaled technical skill. But as Mathieu churned and churned to the top of the Mur-de-Bretagne, behind the Slovenians—Roglic and UAE’s Tadej Pogacar—were unleashing their sprints with Julian Alaphilippe in Yellow, and the Genadier Richard Carapaz following behind. Van Der Poel crossed the line first to take the 8-second Bonus only a handful of meters ahead of Pogacar in White for second, and Roglic in third. Alaphilippe the Musketeer, the man of the match yesterday, took fourth and NO additional Bonus Seconds. But what could Mathieu have been thinking? If he had stayed in that peloton—still 60-to-70 riders strong—surely he could have outsprinted these GC rivals. He had taken the 8 seconds the hard way and not managed to escape away solo like the Renaissance Madman he is.

Over the top of this climb and into the final circuit loop, Mathieu the Madman, the Slovenian stars, and Alaphilippe in Yellow all settled back into the peloton and were comfortable to let the Ineos Grenadiers drive the pace on the rolling terrain back to the base of this same Mur-de-Bretagne for the stage’s final passage up. It was the Ineos Grenadiers and Bahrain Victorious that shared almost 90% of the pace-making on the front for this final circuit, but curiously a curious third team was in formation still towards the front too: in navy-blue Alpecin-Fenix, the team of Mathieu Van Der Poel the Renaissance Madman. Yes, yes, the Madman was still up for this. He had not wasted all his bullets on the first passage of the Mur-de-Bretagne: this showman’s act was far from over this day.

On, on, Ineos drove the pace and the peloton into the bottom of the final climb. At the base of the climb, the Tasmanian, the King of Willunga Hill, Richie Porte ratcheted up the pace even more in service of his Grenadier Generals Geraint Thomas and Richard Carapaz—yes, yes, on a climb like this Richie Porte is O! so absolutely filthy lethal at riding everyone off his wheel! UAE’s Davide Formolo tried some sort of satellite attack for his team leader Pogacar, but suddenly the power went out quicker than cutting electrical wires. On, on, Richie Porte drove that ruthless pace over that first steepest kilometer of the 2km climb. But before the gradient let up, still one man dared break the Ineos stranglehold, the man who has been trying a decade now. Arkea-Samsaic’s Nairo Quintana went on the attack, hunting for glory and stage honors! Via his diminutive figure, he accelerated right over the crest of the steepest part of the climb. The entire peloton began reacting to Nairoman’s attack…but only one was successfully mounting and muscling a formidable bridging maneuver up to the light and decorated Colombian, the Renaissance Madman.

Mathieu Van Der Poel drew even with Quintana, he was still dragging a great share of contenders for stage honors with him as they passed under the Red Flame, signifying 1km to go. Mathieu the Renaissance Madman did not much seem to care that he was stuck on the front, for he was prepared to go with everything anyways. With 800m to go, Bahrain’s Italian Champion Sonny Colbrelli attempted to launch an attack, but Madman Mathieu instantly covered it with Tadej Pogacar in his wheel. But Van Der Poel the Renaissance Madman in one swift motion counterattacked over Colbrelli with the most confident body language announcing to the world: “TODAY, THE RENAISSANCE MADMAN CANNOT BE BEAT!” Even the talent Slovenian Tadej Pogacar wearing the White Jersey of Best Young Rider had not a prayer to follow Van Der Poel. Madman Mathieu was rocket launching away once more. Ah! Ah! To see him take length after length, his lead inflate like a balloon filling with helium, it was spectacular. Finally, finally, this Mighty Ace Mathieu Van Der Poel has made his presence felt at the greatest race on earth, on the biggest stage. How? How was he growing such a gap on this more shallow part of the climb? Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer in Yellow could not close the gap and swiveled his head for others to take over, but Israel Start-Up Nation’s Michael Woods was on the limit as well, and even the other Mighty Ace Wout Van Aert could not the bleeding.

Mathieu Van Der Poel the Renaissance Madman muscled all the way to the line for every second he could take over his rivals. It was not just the stage win, but the Yellow Jersey he would take if the gap was big enough and the Bonus Seconds were taken by the right rivals. He crossed the line in victory, pointed to the heavens, and was incredibly emotional. Behind 6 seconds later, the Slovenians, Pog and Rog, respectively swiped up the 6- and 4-second Time Bonuses. Alaphilippe crossed the line in 5th place 8 seconds after Van Der Poel. Thus with the 8-second Time Bonus on the first passage up the Mur, with the 10-second Time Bonus for the Stage Win, and the 8-second margin of victory over Alaphilippe the Musketeer: Mathieu Van Der Poel took an 8-second lead on GC. Yes, the day ended with the Mighty Ace Mathieu Van Der Poel the Renaissance Madman donning the Yellow Jersey for the first time in his career, at his very first Tour de France. He was emotional in the interviews, Mathieu has now done what his grandpa Poulidor could not. Ah! But surely, surely, Poupou is looking down on him now, shedding tears of joy as well at all his Renaissance Madman grandson has accomplished in his career.

2021 TDF Stage 1: The Musketeer in Yellow Once More

Brest—Landerneau, 197km

Vive le Tour!

The Grand Depart of the Tour de France from Brest in Brittany went off without a hitch. And I must say it was a beautiful sight for all the crowds were out in force all day long supporting the Tour de France properly for the first time since the pandemic began. The weather was grey, cloudy, and cool for the entire day—appropriate for Brittany to be sure, and a refreshing break for many escaped to Brittany from a heat wave seeming to encompass the rest of Europe. Yes, yes, almost all the Breton fans were well behaved and encouraging. At this point in the history of French cycling, by all accounts the Bretons take the cake as the most cycling-loving Frenchmen: in the same way the Tuscans do in Italy. The Bretons have a rich cycling history to be proud of, and despite no mountain ranges their hills appear a treasure-trove of scenic cycling routes. From Brittany hail many Tour heroes and legends. In the earliest years just after the dawn of the Tour, the mysterious Petit-Breton twice won this French Grand Tour, but alas! just a few years later he was a casualty of the First World War. A few generations later, it was the Breton Jean Robic who reopened French cycling with his win of the 1947 Tour de France that brought hope back to the ruined and ruinous French country. But on the heels of Robic came the Breton Louison Bobet who was ultimately and unanimously France’s greatest star in the Golden Age of Cycling: it was he who was the first to win the Tour three times in a row in 1953, ’54, and ’55, it was he who could hold his own and best the other champions and legends of that era whose names shall never be forgotten: the Italians Coppi and Bartali, the Swiss Kubler and Koblet. Yes, yes, Bobet is one of the classy and illustrious pillars of that Golden Age, but another Breton eclipsed even his glory. Yes, yes, the Badger, Bernard Hinault, is of course famously a Breton as well. Ah! ah! to see the highlights of him churning the big gears, the intense drive to win and the scowl of pain across his face as he would punish himself and his rivals even more, what a larger than life character he was, and is, and shall be. He is the greatest French cyclist of all time. Among many other accomplishments: he won the Tour five times—only three others along with him can say the same. But still the French people wait for another Frenchman to take up his mantle, for he is also the last Frenchman to have won the Tour de France all the way back in 1985—ah! ah! truly, truly it is a drought or national curse, a sporting Returning King-esque yearning. Yes, yes, in the shadows of such legends still Brittany continues to churn out fine cyclists who are still actively working to build their legends, including attendees of this Tour: the sprinter Bryan Coquard (B&B Hotels), and the 2017 King of the Mountains Warren Barguil (Arkea-Samsaic). The Brittany hills provide such lovely and fertile training grounds: never is there a lack of testing terrain, and yet also routes on scenic little lanes that give all viewing an insatiable itch to get out and ride their own bicycles. Finally, in addition to the history, the scenery, and the healthy crowds of cycling admirers, the Bretons have one of the most iconic flags in cycling. Like the black-and-yellow Lion of Flanders flags that line the whole Ronde Van Vlaanderen, or the red-white-and-green Basque Country flags flying in every race that goes through that special land, to see the black-and-white Breton flag proudly flying or whipping in the wind gets the heartrate going and the blood pumping like few other symbols in cycling. In my youth I always thought it some confusing knock-off grey-scale American flag, ah! ah! but once I learned that it represented these proud Bretons, I fell completely in love with it for surely I needed such a symbol to identify this prestigious cycling people of mythical renown. This black-and-white Breton flag is seen all over France every Tour, but of course today it was and for the next three days it shall be out in droves for all the Breton stages. So, with at least minor homage paid to another heartland of cycling, what transpired on these Breton roads today during Stage 1 of the 108th Tour de France?

The road was relentlessly up and down all day, the flag dropped and the fight for the early day breakaway was on. All the riders that made this early day breakaway set their sights and hopes not on winning the stage, but on duking it out or mopping up the first points available for the King of the Mountains competition: yes, yes, the race for the Polka-Dots kicked off from the flag drop, before any real mountains were in range. Bora-Hansgrohe’s young Dutchman Ide Schelling proved the best of the break for halfway through the stage he went solo himself leaving the rest of his companions and competitors in the dust. If you had watched the Ardennes Classics this season, this was no surprise to see for it was this same young Schelling that was compulsively attacking and mixing up on similar hills to these. And it was great to see again, for not only were the crowds hyping him up, every time he crossed a line of any significance along the route he also cheered with the crowd—so energetic was his performance for he was so exhilarated to be at the pointy end of the action of his first Tour de France. Truly, it made us all smile and put us in a great mood, especially when with 47km to go Schelling crested the penultimate categorized climb alone to seal the Polka-Dot Jersey for day. Ah! But alas! only a few minutes later the refreshing, optimistic, and hopeful vibes that only the first day of the Tour can provide evaporated, as they also often do on the first day of the Tour.

Behind the peloton kept the breakaway in check all day for too many heavy favorites hoped to don the Yellow Jersey this day in addition to taking the stage win. Mostly it was Tim DeClerq (Deceuninck-Quickstep) who rode like his nickname, el Tractor, on the front for his team leader protected behind: Quickstep’s Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer wearing the Rainbow Jersey as Champion of the World. But the other top billed favorites for this Stage 1 and the Yellow Jersey were the Mighty Aces, the Renaissance Madman Mathieu Van Der Poel (Alpecin-Fenix) and The Swiss Army Knife of the peloton Wout Van Aert (Jumbo-Visma) the newly decorated Champion of Belgium. Yes, yes, all were hoping to see these three duke it out on that final climb of the day: Alaphilippe in the Rainbows, Wout Van Aert in the full Belgian Black-Yellow-and-Red, and Van Der Poel in Alpecin’s special limited-edition purple-and-yellow Mercier-esque throwback kit worn in tribute to his late grandpa the legendary Raymond Poulidor, the most beloved of all French cycling stars. After the Schelling celebrations things were pinging up well for an exciting finale: all systems go for fast and hard racing. But alas! all the Bretons did not prove to be good fans today. With 45km to go, on the right side of the road up came the Jumbo-Visma train at the front of the peloton, but a roadside fan looked not on the approaching riders, instead the “fan” stupidly held a large sign backwards to be captured by the camera in front taping the riders behind. The first Jumbo rider in line was able to swerve around it, the next Jumbo rider, time-trialing legend Tony Martin, could not. The sign stuck an obnoxious two feet out into the rode, the fan seemed to have zero regard for the riders coming by and only hopes of being on TV. Unlike the rest of the admirable fans looking down the road eager for the riders to approach only to cheer them on, this fan was much too absent minded. Alas! Alas! too often this happens at the big races of the modern age. Tony Martin went down, and like dominos so did the other riders across the road, and thus in an instant 90% of the peloton was held up by the crash. It took many riders a while to get back up and in order, many bikes were wrecked, and Team DSM’s Jasha Sutterlin’s Tour de France ended right there. Truly it is a shame to see such a needless crash caused by the actions of a fan, but let it serve as a warning to the rest on the roadside not to try such shenanigans—alas! how harmful they can be!

The only team that seemed to make it through the crash unscathed was Quickstep, but like honorable gentlemen the Wolfpack did sit up and wait for the rest of the peloton to regroup. We shall assume they both wanted to win with honor by not taking advantage of such a freak accident, and they also wanted to wait for their best man on the day Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer. It took a few kilometers for many of the heavy favorites like Bora’s Peter Sagan the Rockstar wearing the Slovakian Champion’s Jersey and Wout Van Aert The Swiss Army Knife to catch back up. But soon all the favorites were back in the peloton. Schelling was soon caught out front—truly, it seemed he had no ambitions to even attempt to stay away to the line knowing his chances were nonexistent. And the pace rapidly ramped up over the final hills as the kilometers counted down and were ticked off. But with 8km to go, disaster struck once more. The peloton was flying at some 60-or-70km/h, fighting to be at the front in the best and safest position for the final testing climb into Landerneau. Ah! But within the first 20 places, a B&B Hotels rider nudged wheels with another, he went down hard, hit the deck, skidded across the road, and so did half the peloton behind him. It was brutal to see at such high speeds, and it was frightful to see! With such a share of riders held up, surely among them must have been some stage favorite or a General Classification (GC) contender! Even if these men got up quickly with little injury to them, at such speeds and so close to the line, surely they would not be able to regain contact with those duking it out for the stage win: already on Stage 1 they would be ceding time on GC to unscathed rivals. Most notable of the injured and bruised were living legend Chris Froome and his entire Israel Start-Up Nation team, all of whom were shaky and slow to remount.

But amazingly, the heaviest favorites for the stage honors and for the GC Overall had made it through unscathed—truly towards the front in safest position. But, but, it seems many must have been out of position. Quickstep was in order on the front, surely Alaphilippe the Musketeer was among them in prime position, but where were the Mighty Aces, Wout and Mathieu? Where was the Rockstar Sagan? Had the Slovenian superstars made the group? Which of the Grenadiers were in this group? What overlooked puncheurs could seize the opportunity created by this chaos and pull off the surprise victory?

Into the climb the Quickstep Wolfpack drove it with three riders in front of their Alpha Wolf Alaphilippe the Musketeer. In one very long line was the rest of the peloton strung out. The climb was some 3km long with the steepest 14% slope coming early on in the climb. With 2.6km to go, on those steepest slopes, only one Wolf of the Pack, Dries Devenyns, was left on the front for Alaphilippe in second wheel. Behind the World Champion Alaphilippe came Wout Van Aert in the Belgian Champion’s Jersey, and Bahrain’s Sonny Colbrelli in the Italian Champion’s Jersey, followed by BikeExchange’s Michael Matthews, Trek’s Jasper Stuyven, and a massive host of others. Just, just over the steepest 14% gradient with 2.3km remaining, Quickstep’s Devenyns sat up tank emptied, job done for team leader Alaphilippe the Musketeer. And what did the Musketeer do with still so far to climb? Without hesitation Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer and reigning Champion of the World launched away like an Apollo rocket with the same ferocity and Herculean class as we saw from Madman Van Der Poel in the Spring Classics and Egan Bernal the Grenadier at the Giro. Wout Van Aert the Belgian Champion, The Swiss Army Knife of the peloton, was on Alphalippe’s wheel when he launched…and the Wout Van Aert the Mighty Ace could not respond in the slightest. Nor was the other Mighty Ace Mathieu Van Der Poel anywhere to be seen.

Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer, one of the top showmen of the sport among this great generation of audacious and theatric racers, was on the attack at the Tour de France in a quest for the Yellow Jersey once more. For much of the season the Mighty Aces have bested him in finishes such as these, but here today at the greatest race in all the world, on home soil, in the World Champion’s Jersey, even the Mighty Aces hadn’t a prayer to stop the Mighty Musketeer Julian Alaphilippe. In 2019, Alaphilippe went on that unforgettable and still cherished deep-run in Yellow with the epic Hectorian fall and collapse in the final week. In 2020, he kicked the Tour into full life with his Nice stage win where he donned Yellow once more and dedicated the feat to his recently deceased father. This year in 2021, on the Opening Stage of this Tour now as a father himself to a baby boy born less than a fortnight ago, Julian Alaphilippe was on his way into Yellow again for what is sure to be another flamboyant stint. Perhaps it was this intangible factor of fatherhood that fueled him so fiercely today, perhaps also it was the World Champion’s Rainbow Jersey he was wearing, and perhaps also it was the Tour’s matchless world stage that always fuels this Frenchman to soar without limits. Today the Musketeer was peerless. None, not even the Mighty Aces, were in the same class as Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer today. Jumbo’s Primoz Roglic the Relentless went on the attack to chase him down, and Tadej Pogacar (UAE) was instantly onto the wheel of the older-brother-esque mentor he slew last year; but neither of the Slovenians could make much headway. Finally, the Mighty Ace and Madman Mathieu Van Der Poel revealed himself to trying and chase down the Mighty Musketeer as well, but to no avail he had left it too late and had not even the energy to hold off the chasers behind. Only the Frenchman Pierre Latour (Total Energie) seemed to make any headway on Alaphilippe the Musketeer, but he too in time was swallowed up by the chasing group of elite puncheurs and GC team leaders.

Alaphilippe the Musketeer won by 8 seconds ahead of Michael Matthews and Primoz Roglic and the rest of the pack, but it was clear Alaphilippe was not looking for time today. What his ambitions are for this Tour are unclear or already accomplished here today. Now already he has the stage win and the Yellow Jersey, the Maillot Jaune he always looks so fetching in. For the third year in a row, he dons it. By now we know he shall defend it as long as he can. Yes, yes, Alaphilippe in Yellow is becoming a familiar sight. We dared to dream he could take Yellow all the way to Paris in 2019. For him to do so in 2021 is not beyond the wildest realm of possibilities but is ultimately unlikely because the highest mountains shall likely be a bridge too far. Surely, Julian is not yet thinking that far ahead. He shall celebrate this victory with his family which is recently one newborn bigger. He shall fight to rank up his tally of days in Yellow. And he shall fight for more stage honors. As is always the case with this keycard-carrying Club member, this victory by Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer has made our day. Looking back at the 2020 Tour, it is far too early to hop abroad a rollercoaster of emotion like we did for that deep-run at the 2019 Tour…and yet at the same time let us be honest with ourselves.

Already we are rooting and willing on Alaphilippe the Musketeer to stay in Yellow for as long as he can. Already once more we speculate how long he can hold it: “Tomorrow’s hilltop finish suits him even better. Then two sprint stages. There is a testing Time Trial on Stage 5, but he has won a Tour de France Time Trial before. A couple more sprint or hilly stages like this one after that. Ah! If he can make it through that TT, surely he shall hold this Yellow Jersey through the whole first week into the Alps.” Yes, yes, to Alps! To the Ventoux! To the Pyrenees! And even to Paris! Already in the deepest reaches of our minds and hearts, we wonder if he can go wire-to-wire. But whether Julian weares Yellow only until the Alps, or until the Time Trial on Stage 5, or until the Mur de Bretagne tomorrow: Vive le Musketeer, you beloved warrior and hero for France and all of cycling!

2021 Suisse, Papal Visits, and Other Matters

It was a busy week of racing, but alas with no major storylines to link up a well-crafted narrative…not to say anything else previously written has been well-crafted. I was tempted to just skip, take the week off and focus my efforts on Tour preparation and other exciting events happening in my life. Ah! Ah! But on Wednesday occurred too fun an event not to cover. Thus let us do a rundown of the past week and half, if for no other reason just to have this cycling season documented.

The Tour de Suisse

The opening time trial clashed with the last day of the Criterium du Dauphine and thus held my attention not at all. Congrats to the Swiss time-trialists going well on home soil. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Alpecin-Fenix’s Mathieu Van Der Poel’s two stage wins the next two days were exhilarating displays! On the first he head-scratching-ly attacked in the final descending and flat kilometers instead of waiting for the sprint in which he was heavily favored. Ah! Ah! But this is why I call him the Madman, for such attacks bolt us upright and dazzle us perhaps greatest amongst a Great Generation of Theatric Racers. And on Stage 3, his sprint outright blew everyone’s doors’ off, even Julian Alaphilippe the Musketeer (Deceuninck-Quickstep) was handedly dusted. From winning Cyclocross Worlds, to winning Spring Classics, to podiuming Mountain Bike World Cups, and now hopping right back in to take dynamic road stages against other top men pinging on good form for the Tour: Mathieu Van Der Poel is the greatest Renaissance Man in cycling at the moment. (An Author’s Note: Still I would say his archrival Wout Van Aert holds the metaphorical “Belt”/Title of THE Swiss Army-Knife of the peloton).

EF’s Stefan Bisseger had a fun, thrilling, and well-earned stage win on Stage 4. Well done on home soil. Well done on in the wet and rain. Well executed sprint at the end. Ah! Ah! Stefan you are on your way to do even greater things!

Though many mountains had already been ridden, the first proper brutes revealed themselves on Stage 5 where Ineos’ Richard Carapaz won a thrilling stage and took the race lead. The mountainous Stage 6 went to a breakaway with UAE’s Rui Costa relegated for cutting off Andreas Korn (Lotto Soudal) in the final sprint at the mountain’s top. Thus Korn continues to built his name in the mountains of World Tour stage races, while Rui Costa showed off flying form, but without a great result.

The 23.2km Stage 7 Time Trial was interesting as it started at the base of Oberalp pass, had the riders climb all the way up the mountain, and then do the full descent down into the town of Andermatt. It was great to see Tom Dumoulin (Jumbo-Visma) return to racing and finish in the top five on the day. Bahrain’s Swissman Gino Mader impressed on home soil, ah! ah! yet another young climber’s career coming along nicely. Julian Alaphilippe was impressive in finishing second exclusively on a road bike for the entire route. In the Top 5, Carapaz as the race leader held his own extremely well in a discipline that is often the bane of South Americans. But one South American, EF’s Rigoberto Uran the Colombian—aging and eldest of their great stars—rolled back the clock to take a dominate 40 second victory over Alaphilippe and even more time on the other GC rivals.

And Stage 8 finishing over the famous San Gotthardpass with its elegantly laid cobblestones was a good show. Michael Woods (Israel Start-Up Nation) showed he is still on flying form ahead of the Tour de France, but Gino Mader showed off his descending skills into the finish to draw even with the attacking Woods and finish it off in the sprint. Behind, Uran made an attempt to overhaul Carapaz, but Richard Carapaz was too strong.

In the end, despite intriguing stage to stage stories: alas! it was the GC narrative that was lacking for this Tour de Suisse. Perhaps Alaphilippe could have shook things up on the final day, but he left the race early to be present for the birth of his first child—one thousand congratulations, Julian! Uran did was he could on the final day, but there not many fireworks. Yes, yes, Carapaz had the GC firmly in grip as soon as he took it, and even in the time trial he handled himself well. Thus, he wins the second major Tour preparation race for the Ineos Grenadiers—to match teammate Richie Porte’s Dauphine. Yes, Ineos look formidable for this Tour: Carapaz, Porte, Geraint Thomas, Tao Geoghegan Hart, and maybe even Pavel Sivakov shall enter this Tour on prime form: how shall they all get along if they have personal ambitions? Potentially a tricky question, but Ineos has already played such situations masterfully in the past. And it seems after these preparation races, Ineos is better off than their challenging superpower team, Jumbo-Visma. Jumbo’s captain, Primoz Roglic, skipped any final tune-up race before the Tour: it can be taken for granted Roglic shall be on good form, but what about his support crew? At the Dauphine and this Suisse race, none looked outstanding, flying, or riding with diamonds in their legs.

Yes, yes, beyond even Jumbo that was what made the Dauphine and Suisse GC campaigns feel relatively subdued: so many headliners were not in attendance. Roglic has opted to just continue controlled training forgoing any dress rehearsal racing. His UAE superstar Slovenian compatriot snubbed both the Dauphine and Suisse to ride his homeland’s tour as preparation. And because of the mountainous and lumpy courses of both World Tour prep races, most of the headline sprinters for the Tour went to the Baloise Belgium Tour for their final tune-up.

What transpired at the Baloise Belgium Tour is a good next topic to give musings on.

Baloise Belgium Tour

In the opening two stages, Remco Evenepeol (Deceuninck-Quickstep) rebounded and buried his disappointing Giro and Grand Tour debut. On Stage 1, he broke away with some lesser know riders to put time into any sort of GC rivals in attendance, though he only finished second in the sprint that day. But on Stage 2, he won the Time Trial to take a commanding GC lead that would not be assailed. Caleb Ewan (Lotto Soudal) took a fine pair of wins on Stage 3 and 4. And though they were fine shows, stating his sprinting dominance, Ewan and Remco and the rest of the Belgium Tour were upstaged by the news of the winner on the final Stage 5.

Quickstep’s premier sprinter Sam Bennett, who shall be leading their Tour de France squad, skipped this final prep-race that he was scheduled to ride; some sort of nagging knee problem forced him out of the action. Ah! But on the final sprint on Stage 5, there was the Deceuninck-Quickstep train in perfect position in the closing kilometers. After a last roundabout, the final kilometer was about dead straight and still Quickstep were their teeing it up for their sprinter. Who had filled the role of Quickstep sprinter at this Belgium Tour in Bennett’s absence? Yes, yes, we loved to see it: the greatest sprinter of all time Mark Cavendish the Manx Missile.

Earlier in the season he finally took his first victory in three years at the Tour of Turkey…and then he won three more Turkish stages for good measure. The wins were great, and Cav looked legitimately good despite no top tier competition. Ah! But here in Belgium was a really proving ground for old veteran Cavendish to really test his legs against most of the best sprinters in the world. It is no secret Quickstep have the best lead-out train in the world, especially when Michael Morkov is in attendance like he was this week in Belgium. Yes, yes, straight as an arrow, it was indeed a drag race down that final straight. Quickstep still had three men for the final kilometer on the left hand size of the road, but surging on the far right was the train of Alpecin-Fenix in service of Tim Merlier—a recent Grand Tour stage winner! Alpecin’s speed and gusto made it seem like they had it, even once both Merlier and Cavendish launched their own sprints. Cavendish looked good, but surely Merlier was drawing ahead—others like Ewan and Jumbo’s Dylan Groenewegen were in the hunt further behind—yes, yes, clearly Merlier must have taken the lead. Ah! Ah! But it was a drag race. Cav did not give up. Both had to gut it out with every fiber of their body to the very end of the line. But as they crossed, Cavendish knew he had it, and so did Merlier.

Cavendish was rightfully celebrating big time. The quartet of Turkey stage wins clearly gave him back his mojo, ah! but this Belgium Tour one was greater: for this was against topflight competition. O! O! It was just a dead straight road, there was little strategy Cavendish needed to do besides sit on his lead-out’s wheel. But he did it and then unleashed a pure sprint that showed he is still capable of mixing it up with the best men in the world. Ah! Full disclosure, I first regularly started watching the Tour in Mark Cavendish’s heyday: when he would take 4, 5, even 6 stage wins each Tour for HTC-Highroad some dozen to 15 years ago. To see, to see those days of yore rolled back by my original favorite rider warmed my heart immensely. Too long have I dreaded writing his retirement eulogy. Now, I am in a position to encourage Quickstep to hold onto him for a few more years, and potentially even bring him to this Tour de France alongside Bennett just to have an untamed and other X-factor option to play throughout the race if need be. Mark Cavendish, the Manx Missile, the Fastest Man on Two Wheels, ah! ah! How happy I am to see you win big once again.

Tour of Slovenia

I have no beautifully written transition into this one. I have little to even expound, muse, or comment on this race. The Slovenian crowds were great and rowdy: as they should be, for they have not one, but two stars at the top of the sport. One of them was in attendance, for he could not go even another year in his career without winning his beloved national tour. Tadej Pogacar and his whole UAE Emirates Team absolutely dominated this Slovenian Tour. Pogacar did not have any top tier GC competition, but it is safe to say based on the whole season his trajectory for a Tour title defense-tilt is going well. And the way his whole team manhandled this peloton and entire race was encouraging to see. Yes, yes, I dare say Tadej Pogacar shall have a far better squad of support at this coming Tour de France. Yes, yes, the Grenadiers and the Jumbo Wasps could have quite a bit of trouble with this UAE squad built around the man that might be the Grand Tour star of the generation.

Pogacar is on the cusp of another grueling Grand Tour, we shall return to him in less than a fortnight when he lines up in Brest. But how is another Grand Tour star of his generation making out, after already accomplishing much this season?

A Papal Visit

And thus my procrastinating has paid off, because I now get to conclude with musings on the Grenadier and out-rider of chainsaws Egan Bernal’s Wednesday day-out wearing fine street clothes. To not speak of his cycling at all makes me feel as though I am describing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, nevertheless fearlessly we press on for Egan Bernal said that the event that transpired this day was more important to him than his Giro or Tour wins. Egan is still fresh off his Giro d’Italia victory, and fresh off a Corona quarantine that he most certainly picked up from the immediate celebrations. Ah! Ah! Perhaps he hoped to contract Corona so that he was not overwhelming bombarded. Either way, after some 10 days of peace and quiet before heading to a homecoming victory parade in native Colombia, unbeknownst to anyone Bernal had a personal Papal audience scheduled!

For anyone with a decent grasp of history, it comes as no surprise to find out the Colombian Egan Bernal is a Catholic, for historically that is the default religious bet for any Colombian citizen. What must it be like for a Catholic to find out they have a personal meeting with the Pope on the horizon? What must it be like going to weekly Mass all your life, seeing the priests who were ordained by the most local bishops who were in turn ordained by the bishops before them, and they in turn, back generations, were ordained by bishops of the Old World who trace their ordination-ancestry all the way back to the Twelve Apostles, who were ordained at the Last Supper by our Lord Himself? And it is this Bishop in Rome, the Pope who is operating from the same Chair of Authority as St. Peter did, the Rock upon which Christ built His Universal Church. In this digital age, pictures of the Popes: St. Pope John Paul the Great in Egan’s youngest youth, Pope Benedict XVI for most of his adolescence, and this Pope Francis for most of his formative teenage years where he not only became a world class cyclist, but an independent young man; pictures of these holy men must have been seen in many churches and hung from all sorts of walls all over Egan’s native Colombia. What does the Pope symbolize for Colombians? Is he ultimately just another high-ranking politician to criticize and judge, like Americans do to their President of the United States? Is he a quasi-king subversively subjecting international legions of Catholics to his rule? I think for many Catholics, and for all the saints the president or king comparisons fall far short. To be sure: many, like my beloved Dante Alighieri, have been rightfully harsh critics of individual Popes of the past when the man deserved it. Not even half of all popes are canonized saints, after all, and even saints cannot fully shed Original Sin in this life. Ah! But what astute Catholics know not to do, and what most Catholics and many Catholic converts almost genetically have the intuition not to do: is criticize the Papacy, the actual office of the Pope, itself. A subtle difference to be sure. Perhaps, an anecdote from one Iranian-American’s conversion story may shed some touching light for anyone who cannot conceptualize the purpose of the Papacy. I read to you now from Sohrab Ahmari’s autobiographical conversion story, From Fire by Water, one of the great turning points in his lifelong search for Truth and even Authority was encapsulated in the moment he saw a simple picture of Pope Benedict hanging in the back of a New York City church:

“But before stepping out into the street, I went up to the little portrait of Pope Benedict XVI that hung nearby. The German pontiff was waving warmly in the picture, presumably at an adoring crowd in Saint Peter’s Square. The image sent me into another rapture of tears. Once more, I was choking back sobs and struggling to catch my breath…

‘That’s the pope, you see,’ the friar said…

‘I’m not that ignorant, old man!’ I said to myself. But all I could muster in response was a yes followed by another incoherent, teary mumble.

            The friar was undeterred: ‘That’s not God, son. You see, that man’s the pope. But he’s not God.’

            Of course, I knew that the pope wasn’t God! But then why had this picture brought tears to my eyes? It wasn’t so much who Benedict was—I had yet to read any of his writings—as what he stood for. For a twenty-three-year-old groping his way through the mess of modern life, and the mess he had made of his own life, Pope Benedict XVI stood for the principle of continuous, even absolute, authority—the authority of the Roman Catholic Church, in other words, which the pope embodied, and which shone through his portrait. I longed for stable authority as well as redemption.” (Ahmari, From Fire by Water, pg 147. Emphasis added)

I record all this to give some context to the standout statements Egan Bernal made about the visit, and surely Egan saw many such a portrait as this of Benedict as well a decade ago. Bernal is quoted as saying “This is more important than winning the Giro and the Tour.” He also said he was more nervous and stressed about this Papal meeting than he has ever been while riding to win a Grand Tour. Egan, Egan, really? The most stressed and nervous you have ever been was to meet an old man grand-daddy-looking figure who dresses in white everyday: this Papa Francesco, this Pope Francis who is the Bishop of Rome, the Pontifex Maximus, the Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, the Successor of the Prince of the Apostles, the Vicar of Jesus Christ. O! O! Yes, yes, it seems you too, Egan, understand the gravitas of the Papacy and all that it symbolically and theologically represents.

But Egan’s nervousness did not just end there. Given the rabid popularity of cycling in Colombia, Egan Bernal is their Crown Jewel athlete. He is the first Colombian to win the Tour de France! Thus he is treated like a combination of Michael Jordan and Neil Armstrong in that South American cycling hot-zone. So when Egan Bernal went to meet the Pope, it was not just his young 24-year-old self greeting the head of the Catholic Church: he was an ambassador to the Holy See on behalf of all Colombian cyclists, on behalf of all Colombian cycling fans—which means on behalf of all of Colombia. What is Egan supposed to say on behalf of this great nation whose weight is so heavily on his shoulders? How is he supposed to introduce himself to this leader of leaders who he and his people have always held in reverence? Egan presented His Holiness with a Maglia Rosa from this Giro and a custom designed Pinarello bicycle showing off Francis’ native Argentinian Colors and the Papal Coat of Arms on the top tube; he said, “A gift from me and from all Colombians who at this time need his blessing,” for social unrest grips the country as it emerges from the COVID pandemic. Not bad Egan, not bad, I doubt I could do better.

“I had some words prepared, but I was very nervous,” said Egan. “Although once we started to speak it became easier.” Yes, yes, that is the dynamic to it all, the weight of the Papal Authority and international prestige is certainly there, but paradoxically His Holiness is at the same time still just Papa Frankie…an additional grandpa or fatherly figure for all Catholics of the world. Pope Francis was reported to have asked how many “muchos tintos”—that is Colombian coffees—Egan had needed to drink before climbing so quickly. Beyond that we do not know much about what was conversed between one South American to another, but from previous visits of others associated with professional cycling Francis has made the following favorable remarks on the sport:

“If we consider road cycling, we can see how the whole team works together during the races: the support riders, the sprinters, the climbers. They often have to sacrifice themselves for the leader, and when a teammate experiences difficulty it is the other teammates who show support and accompaniment. In life too, it is necessary to cultivate a spirit of selflessness, generosity, and community in order to help those who have fallen behind and who need help to achieve a certain goal.”  

Ah! Ah! Music to my ears! What wisdom from such a noble leader! Yes, yes, such statements like this from His Holiness Pope Francis distill in poignant brevity my—and I suspect your—love for sport and especially cycling. Yes, while simultaneously being a paternal patriarch, a loving grandpa, also he is a contemporary theologian recognizing Christ and His Goodness in even seeming mundane or random exercises of physical exertion. I suspect Egan sensed this all too and more so than I the far-off commentator, I suspect too such a conversation shall further fuel his ambitious still-young career, as if the hero of Colombia needed anymore motivation. When it was all completed, Egan was quoted saying: “I was very surprised by his presence. It’s like the greatest encounter with God so far and therefore a unique experience.”

So why spend so much time on this subject? Well one answer is because Egan said it was a very important event to him, more important than winning the Giro or the Tour—such a statement could take some explaining, I have tried. Hopefully what has been presented here begins to scratch the surface how such a meeting could possibly be greater than winning the Giro or the Tour. I tried to stress the weight and humanity paradoxically both present in the Pope that Egan was so awestruck by and who he gives allegiant reverence to, for the Pope is the head of his Church founded by the Lord Jesus Christ. A second answer should be all too obvious by now: this was a self-indulgent exercise for me to muse and praise what I find to be a wonderful event; and was not this whole show developed to self-indulgently fulfill a creative itch? Such Papal Visits by cyclists come up from time to time and they always make my day without my fully knowing why. But after writing this piece, I think I am a little closer to the answer. I think this event made my day, because it supplied a harmonious feeling in my heart, for in the meeting of Egan Bernal and Pope Francis I symbolically saw two Good influences so dominant in my life warmly embracing each other.