Paul Sherwen is generally seen as Phil Liggett’s counter-point, dutifully keeping the iconic duo’s race commentary on course, helping to convey to the English-speaking world the sport of Professional Cycling. Liggett, of course, has undeniably helped shape this great sport for Anglophones across the globe, having been the English voice of this sport since before I was born – and for that I’m eternally grateful to him; merely the sound of his voice warms the cockles of my cold, black heart. But as much as he is inextricably bound to the sport, the last time he got a fact right must have also been before I was born, if he ever has.
The balance Liggett’s special breed of factual rigor is Paul Sherwen. Not only does he have the insight of an ex-pro with which to season his commentary, he has several other highly technical analytical tools at his disposal, such as actually watching the race. Furthermore, Paul is able to counter Uncle Phil’s constitution under pressure – which resembles that of a knock-kneed Rhode Island Red in a washing machine on a delicates/knits cycle – with his Sprinter’s Cool. Whereas Phil can be heard squawking and clucking incomprehensibly with excitement as a race unfolds, Paul peppers the commentary with self-deprecating jokes about his own career and adds a Swahili proverb or two that might be helpful for the riders, were they only able to hear him.
In this current role of his, as the commentary equivalent of Autocorrect on Liggett’s iPhone, it is easy to forget that Paul was among the most respected riders of his day. Seen here stringing out a bunch (in complete Rule Compliance, I might add) reminds me of the various tales of tenacity that earned him the respect not only of his fellow riders, but of race organizers.
One such example is of the 1985 Tour de France when Sherwen, a domestique with no chance at the overall, crashed in the opening kilometers of a Pyrenean stage and was left to fend for himself while Bernard Hinault raced for the win at the front, making small children of grown men. Refusing to give up, Sherwen limped through the stage alone, accompanied only by a single Gendarme’s motorcycle. More than an hour after the stage winner and well outside the time limit, he finished the stage. The race jury, moved by his resolve to finish the stage, reinstated him and allowed him to continue on in the Tour. In a word, respect.
I think of all the people in the cycling world I most admire, it has to be Paul Sherwen.
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@Marcus
Such as Maakiss, Mowss or Beeankkee Denttyy (possibly needs more "y"s and "ah"s - despite originating from Hamilton, NZ, I never passed Bowgyn 101.
@Marcus
Damn, I'm even a failure at being a failure in spite of residing not 5km from the abode of Cory Worthington.
@frank
As we all know, Paul's co-commentator is Phil Liggett. Two T's.
I spotted Mr Liggett recently at the annual sportive ride in the Peak District which bears his name (the Phil Liggett CTC Challenge). He completed the 'short' route (100km) in just under 7 hours. Me and a couple of pals were riding the long route (150km), which was quite tough in the cool, wet and windy conditions. Early on we were passed by a small group of riders on one of the many climbs and my pal said "there goes Malcolm Elliott". From Sheffield, Elliott must have had one of the longest careers of any professional cyclist. I would have liked to have said I rode alongside him for a while, but I only got a fleeting glimpse of his Motorpoint jersey as he glided effortlessly past.
Does Laurent have on a full-on winter cap in that photo? I can't imagine racing in hat that thick!
Nice one, Frank. I actually didn't know Sherwen was such a respect or strong rider. Love a little history lesson. I also love how two of the guys chasing him in the original photo are digging in their jersey pockets. "Yeah, I'm going full tilt, but I still have the balance and skill to try and fish out those two quarters that keep on jingling together."
@Marcus
Nah, I'm old enough not to be part of that generation...I just looked at like a weird fucking foreigner!
Sometime many years ago, must have been about 1978, there was a documentary on TV in the UK called 'The Great Bike Race'. I was really excited by this as an impressionable twelve year old bike fan. It followed Paul's progress through the Tour and I seem to remember it featuring a stage where he was allowed back in by the race jury. I can only guess that it was the stage you mention. I also seem to remember that the opening scene was of him getting ready, and shaving his legs. I have trawled the internet to find anything about this documentary, to no avail. I'm beginning to wonder if I imagined it! Does anyone know if copies of it still exist anywhere? Or if it's just a figment of my ageing imagination?
I do enjoy hearing Paul & Phil call a race, but since I lack a t.v. I watch all the races online, which means mainly Eurosport. I like King Kelly and Duffield. The weird thing is that I don't mind listening to races in languages I can't understand. It's kind of like being in a foreign country and enjoying the fact that I can tune out all the mobile phone conversations on the tram, bus, train, restaurant because I have no idea what they are saying. Now, if I could only learn how to tune out English speakers I'd be over the moon; I really don't want to hear you discuss your love life on the bus at 7:30.
@Ron
Sometimes I think I'm the odd sports fan in that I actually like listening to commentary during most sporting events (unless I'm there live, of course).
Fuck yeah, Orange badge time. All those extra posts where I corrected my poor grammar or spelling in the previous post finally paid off.
And who would have thought one person could post so much about basically nothing?
I promise to represent the sacred Dutch color with pride. Thank you, thank you all. *sniffle*
@toomanytreks
No, you're not imagining things. I saw it too - albeit a long time ago. A last look at the old school. I remember Sherwen having to wash his own gear and it was, of course, wool. I also seem to remember a piece of flat steak being put into the shorts between the chamois and the ass to alleviate saddle sores. I kid you not. We just don't know how good we have it these days.