We are just about done with our next book, The Hardmen. At its core is the question: how hard is hard enough when it comes to effort.
None of us really know the answer, but when you can’t stand up after winning a Tour de France stage, even with the help of several adoring fans and staff members, you got pretty close.
Chapeau, monsieur Millar.
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@Cary
I haven't seen any Euro races in person, either. I'm in the US - growing up it was hard to find anything here, and TV coverage was almost non-existent. I might have been willing to sit in a field to see the peloton fly by, just because it would be better than nothing. I did see Davis Phinney dominate a crit here, but even that was hard to watch how the actual racing played out.
@Cary
For sure if you want to see the race unfold then TV is the best option, but it's just a different experience.
People follow the TDF around and enjoy camping or riding the route ahead of the race or sitting by the side of the road with a barbecue and beers. Then there's the publicity caravan ahead of the race, and afterwards if it's a summit finish the riders often come back down through the crowds. In a TT stage you can wander around the team bus areas and watch people warming up.
Some of the spring classics with finishing circuits can be fun in the spectator areas where you can watch the race go past then go back to a big screen and pick up some frites on the way and be part of a big crowd cheering the finish. But you aren't going to be able to give a succinct account of how events unfolded.
What I would say about the racing in Europe is that as a cyclist you really get a lot more out of it if you also take the opportunity to ride the routes. Once you've been up the same climbs or over the same roads your appreciation for the riders and the races reaches a whole new level.
My brush with the hard man David Miller. Scene 2011 TdF time trial in Grenoble. My 11 yr old son and I are flagging down riders for autographs on a gravel pathway after the finish. We're having about a 10% success rate when Millar comes through. I yell and he locks his rear wheel skidding to a stop. He's still breathing about 60 times per minute, can barely form a full sentence. I ask him how it went, he replies something like "bleeding painful mate". He signs my son's jersey and we let him go. I'm a fan forever!
Hincapie comes through a little later, blows off my son to talk to some girl and makes him cry.
@Spaghetti Legs
Fuck! Perfect story and sounds absolutely like what I would expect.
Super story. Thanks for sharing!
F.U.C.K. Millar.
Reckon from memory young Jack went pretty deep chasing 60 minutes