As a cycling fan, I find that it is easy to neglect some of the physiological particularities of our sport. In my mind, Faboo and Jens are giants””not merely Giants of the Road, but enormous men with enormous legs and broad shoulders, quite literally ready to carry the weight of the team. Typically, we see cycling’s rouleurs only in comparison to each other, and so deep are my impressions of the imposing directors of the peloton that when I see them standing in all of their glory on the podium looking the picture of a 12-year old boy next to the high-heeled and (thankfully) be-skirted podium models, I am convinced that the organizers of Grand Tours have found and begun to exploit a tribe of beautiful Amazonian ogres somewhere deep in the forests of the Ardennes.
And then, you see photographs like this, and you remember that while these men are men, they are by and large small, freakish men by the standards of most modern athletes.
It’s 2003, and the directors of the Tour de France invite a legend of the Streif to kick off La Grande Boucle. Coming off a nearly year and a half of rehab after a motorcycle accident nearly cost him his leg, a trim Hermann Maier makes a mockery of the of the “harmonious integration of man and machine” that defines our sport. The man sprinkles The V and nails on his Wheaties and motor oil in the morning, but he is a meatstick of a man built for downhill speed. He seems to swallow the rear wheel between his ham-hock thighs, and his saddle has been lost somewhere in the vagaries of muscle and grundle. With every pedal stroke, you can hear the bike scream for mercy, but with three Crystal Globes for the World Cup Overall in his pocket and one looming on the horizon in 2004, Hermann Maier doesn’t make a living as a merciful man. His stroke is smooth enough””it has to be, lest he cleave the bottom bracket in two””but he looks at any moment like he might simply break the bike in half like the wishbone of a strange flightless bird.
I was saying something about the men of the peloton? Hardmen, indeed, but I’m pretty sure Maier’s left forearm just ate Frank Schleck.
And so, in honor of the World Cup Opener in Soelden this weekend, I submit to you the Herminator, en bici. At 1’18 out in a 6.5k time trial, he didn’t exactly light the cycling world on fire, but to be 15% off of the world’s best time trialers when there’s 20% more of you than there is of them, well…chapeau. For his next trick, the Man with the Crystal Globes plans a record-setting ski trip to the South Pole. Which he will probably eat.
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I'm going on record right now - remember this next July - Jani Brajkovic is going to surprise everyone and win the 2011 edition of Le Tour.
@Cyclops
...and test positive a few days later.
All the kids are doin' it.
I think das Hermantor would be ideally suited for the Kilo.
The Hermanator wouldn't even fit in the back of the micro bus with der Kaiser and Klodenizzle. Just for the fun of it though, I'd love to see him kick Bodie Miller's ass in a celebrity death match.
@Cyclops
bullshit
Nice piece! Maier's a beast and freak of nature. This is also post-motorcycle accident, which almost left him paralyzed. Of course, his recovery and subsequent training involved more than fifty hours a week on the stationary bike (yes, fifty hours a week), so he kind of knew what he was doing, even if he weighed in at ~90kg.
There's an underlying theme of body image here, too, which is pretty prevalent in the cycling world. While we make light of being too fat to climb here and weight is unquestionably a performance issue in professional cycling, I sometimes feel that male cyclists are worse than teenage girls when it comes to body image stuff (and I mean this in a health perspective, rather than as a derogatory remark). I'm not taking anything away from any of these riders (pro or otherwise), but I can't help taking these guys seriously when they weigh less than one of my legs"”the Herminator's forearm eating Frank Schleck, indeed! Whole, for that matter. Their negative benefits to cycling notwithstanding, dude's got guns for arms. And I can't help thinking that a big man like Thor in the rainbows is only a good thing for the sport. Without going all macho-masculine about it, put a little meat on those bones.
That is an awesome photo. He's got some decent scars on his left arm too - some sort of wrist graze for sure, but wrapping around from back to front looks like a pretty deep surgical scar. Man is a legend.
He is also the focus of some of the best television watching of my life. Nagano '98, Mens Downhill. The Australian commentators had spoken about how everyone had to take this particular sector really slowly, and that wasn't the Hermannator's style, and what would he do, and so on. There was this great frenzy of expectation, and true to form, he was clearly going way faster than any other skier leading into the dangerous sector. Then he lost it, flew upside down, crashed horrifically, but got up to win a few golds a few days later. Absolutely awesome sport!
@Cyclops: You are dreaming. He was good in the Dauphine, although had a very questionable TT result (got fined for improper feed DURING A TT!! How long had he been holding on prior to the Commissaires seeing him I wonder?) and if he is a hitter, won't be able to pull those stunts off - 26" out of Millar, 1'45" out of Contador... Completely sucked at TdF and Worlds after that. Hmmmmm.
Spectacular piece. Two separate times, I laughed out loud:
and
Comic gold. And I haven't even started drinking yet. So it will be twice as funny in 27 minutes when I finish my first Frankenstein.
This also reminds me of a great quote by a commentator last year regarding Didier Cuche, a man of similarly monstrous physique:
A few samples of Cuche:
And...
But I think he's doing it wrong in this one: