Two means to the same end: Winning. Photo: @Bianchi Denti
Belgium has a host of great names, and not just for Cyclists. Riding past a farm equipment outlet or workshop after Keepers Tour 15 had been consigned to the history books, I was taken by the name Bart Vanacker so much that I commented to William that I was seriously considering changing my own handle to Bart. It’s just more… hard. And the fact that explaining j’mapelle Brett to the French or the Belge is an exercise in vowel movements considerably more tedious and painful than any constipated goings-on at the other end of the spectrum (an anagram of rectums, after all) seemed to make more than a bit of sense.
That would still leave the most un-Belgian surname of Kennedy, which unfortunately doesn’t end in a C or K or a combination thereof. Those letters make up probably 99% of Flandrien monickers, almost always tacked onto the end, just sitting there waiting to be joined and punctuated by an X. It’s a letter that’s more than a little maligned in the English language, but celebrated by the Flemish and in good supply. Sticking an X on an English name will either make it complete, or completely ridiculous.
Among the KT crew were a couple of perfect platforms to awesomise with the 24th letter. @harminator would soon become Rickx, and not just because of his tenacious, numerous and not-entirely futile attacks. He smashed the cobbles and climbed the bergs like Merckx. Frank easily was transformed into Strackx, not so much for his two-wheeled exploits but for the way he piloted the big white van on the motorways like a louder, taller and plainer-looking version of Ickx. International playboy, maybe, but not quite in the same league. Mikey became Micky because William couldn’t quite grasp the concept, so naturally he evolved into Mickx, a serendipitous hybrid of Merckx and Ickx.
Unfortunately, there seems very few avenues to successfully adding an X to my name, and changing it costs more than X amount of dollars. Best to leave Belgian Affirmations to real Belgians.
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I guess the next best thing as a Belgian is if you name begins with a V. I guess I'm lucky, having my last name, and having Bart Vanacker being practically my neighbour.
Next time you pass by Bart, make sure to pass by my home in Kemmel and have a coffee stop here. You guys seem to appreciate the Bergen in my area more than most of the locals here. And by the way, although most locals know some French (they're our neighbours, after all), the French of Bart isn't that great, you're better off learning some Vlaams.
Nice one, Brett. And yes, that Rothmans 962... those bikes... Pure seckx.
@Phillip Mercer
Merckxer?
@ErikdR
This. Maybe we need to add that to the Leckxicon.
@brett
Wow... seriously? I would truly consider that an honor - especially for a non-native speaker like yours truly.
But can it be defined? "Pure seckx" = a term used to describe an object or performance of such beauty and magnificence that it commands more than mere respect, and transcends into being Belgian" or something along those lines?
@Wietse Verbrugghe
Welcome Wietse! Now that's a name...
When I wrote this article, I wasn't really sure if there was a Bart Vanacker, but for some reason I had the name in my head. Then I searched the name and there it was! So it must've snuck in and stuck.
I will definitely look you up next time I'm in Kemmel, I love the area and know the roads almost as well as my own now. My favourite place to ride.
@ErikdR
Perfect. You talk good English more better than me does.
@brett
Yeah, right... in my dreams I do. Still, in my own defense, I'll say that I constantly "strive to suck a little less" where the command of foreign languages is concerned (That's similar to my approach to cycling, then, come to think of it...)
But you know how it is with really coming to grips with a language that is different from one's own: puns, irony, wordplay, humour... all that stuff is always going to be 'the final frontier' - and the most difficult to master (but also hugely rewarding, once you start 'getting' things...)
I don't have much to add about names, I'll never pass as a Belgian via nomenclature or looks (when I travel in Europe it's usually assumed I'm Scandinavian - and having a surname which ends in 'erson' I'll take that).
I have however, been in a room somewhat like that picture, except in a hotel owned my Nigel Mansell. Got to stand right next to this car.
Verla. People always ask "what is that?" They may go a step further and inquire to their own surprise, "Is that Italian?" They're surprised because I would be the palest Italian not carved out alabaster, should their assumption be correct. It's Belgian and I've met exactly one person not surprised to learn that (A German, raised in Belgium).
My Grandfather (first US generation) was a printmaker and etched this plate, which made its way to my possession. It's always hung above my desk, but will adorn the room which holds the trainer and rollers in my new house.