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.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
Two parts of one stage? Weird.
Hmm, ads on the hallowed site? This should be interesting...
Jeff - Funny you should mention pondering when the transformation into a cyclist happened. Was asked why I ride a bike this Sunday during a spin with pals. A guy I'd just met asked me this, so I too have been thinking about it of late. I haven't been at it nearly as long as many of you, but I can't conceive of my life without cycling. Who knows what the future holds, but I hope it includes plenty of pedaling and plenty of new bikes. No end-of-the-line Ti frameset stuff for me, at least not for awhile.
@Jim
Yup, two stages in one day. I don't think it's been tried in the Tour since. I know the Criterium international has done it/does do it, but in the tour no. I certainly wouldn't like to be the one to wake M. Hinault up at 5am to get ready for two stages . . .
@scaler911
It's an old French proverb. Basically, it means someone inexperienced needs someone older to show him the ropes. (Literally: A young hunter needs an old dog.) In other words, some of the younger riders could learn a thing or two from the '87 Raleigh Banana.
@wiscot
It was also done in '86. Alex Steida took the yellow in the morning stage and lost it that afternoon in the TTT. But he was the first North American in yellow, at least for a few hours.
@Jeff in PetroMetro
Jeff, my apologies, I should have been clear - two regular road stages in one day. A few hours in yellow still counts - lots of guys would sell their grannies for that honor.
@Velo Kitty
True that. That's why it's great to have a site like this.
@Oli
From hence forth I will never name names. When I get a new bike I will black out the brand. We can no longer use the 3 name brands on components, just the part name. Any reverence articles about mini tools should be taken down ASAP.
Awesome and timely post, Frank... Sherwen rocks... Over the winter (in UK, this is usually September to June), when I was locked in turbo trainer hell, I bought some old TdF videos to watch to see what @Oli and you lot were all on about with all this 'panache' and stuff. Lo and behold, if 1986 is not the first year Sherwen and Liggett were united. Bugger me, it's worth watching, if only to hear Sherwen's rough northern accent and see Liggett looking young, with hair and everything - boy, they've come a long way together. Cracking TdF back then, too with the whole Hinault / Lemond thing kicking off
@JIPM "But seriously-what about the day you decided you were a cyclist and everything else fell by the wayside? I've thought about that a lot lately."
GREAT QUESTION, really great. My wife keeps asking, so how come you are so into this now? I personally think that I was always a cyclist, I just didn't know it. Kind of like Michaelangelo used to say, BITD, sculpting is easy - Every piece of rock has a beautiful statue inside of it... all I have to do is chip away at the excess and help it come out (in Italian, obviously)
Now I'm no David, but I did a whole bunch of sports (swimming, rugby, rowing, sailing, cross country running etc.) for years, where I wasn't that good at it, but found I had good stamina / high pain threshold so was quite competitive, but trashed my back, my knees, my face etc. as I was really too small, too heavy, yet too stubborn to give them up and then... voila, a mate from the US comes to the UK to watch the prologue of the 2007 TdF, drags me along - I'm hooked, I buy a bike, and there it is: Boom. Wool lifted from eyes, life changes... 4 years later, 20kg lighter, several £grand lighter, and my heart soars each time I get on my iron steed and set out. I don't know how I even got out of bed before then... my life was just so empty.
September 9th, 2007. That was my day.
@roadslave
Beautifully said.