There’s an air of Shakespearean tragedy to the death of Marco Pantani on Saint Valentine’s Day in 2004. Once the most famous cyclist in the world, he died alone in a hotel room on a day devoted to love.
But his love – Cycling – had betrayed him. Once a fixture of the Nineties European road racing scene, he was part and parcel of the culture and spirit that embodied that era. Sensationally, as he was about to win the Giro d’Italia for the second time in 1999, he was thrown from the race after a failed hematocrit test on the morning of the penultimate stage. At a time when doping was rampant throughout the peloton and, as we are beginning to understand now, secretly supported by both the teams and governing bodies, Pantani was torn from the world he knew like a puppy from a warm house and abandoned in the winter cold. He was singled out, vilified, made example of. Confused and betrayed, he would never recover.
A rider defined by brilliant highs and devastating lows, he fit the mold of “enigmatic climber” so well it almost feels cliché to point it out. He won atop nearly all the most famous climbs in cycling and still holds the record for the fastest ride up Alpe d’Huez. But on days that his mind and motivation failed him, he would trail in long after the favorites arrived home.
He was also monumentally unlucky. He was almost crippled after hitting a car head-on during Milano-Torino, after it was mistakenly allowed onto the course in 1995. In 1997, he was forced to abandon the Giro when a black cat crossed his path and caused him to crash. 1998 saw him reach the pinnacle of our sport with the Giro-Tour double before 1999 saw him become the first super-star to be singled out for the (suspected) use of EPO during the jet-fueled late Nineties.
Pantani was more than a cyclist for us. 1998 was the year my VMH and I met, and we built our relationship in part as we shared in the excitement as our favorite rider won first the Giro and then the Tour. (Early in our relationship, she hosted a party at her apartment; when I walked in, she had Star Wars, A New Hope playing on the television. Later that night I learned her favorite rider was Pantani. Needless to say, I’ve never looked at another woman since.) The ’98 Tour remains my favorite, with the stage to Les Deux Alpes the high point.
He inspired me – a big, tall, oafish flatlander – to become obsessed with climbing, an obsession I maintain to this day (or, at least I did until January 28). His climbing epitomized the angelic grace of le grimpeur. Climbing in the drops with his face a picture of focus and determination, his climbing could not be described as effortless, but powerful. A sight to behold. Everything about him oozed cool. I modeled my first dream bike after the gloriously beautiful steed he rode in 1998. My VMH, the same weight and height as Marco, modeled her position and climbing style after his.
My heart aches when I think of how this man, who was part of a system which, however full of flaws, he understood. I imagine that he was not a unintelligent nor an ignorant man, but that he was not prepared for the cruelty of the world outside cycling. I can scarcely fathom his sense of confusion and betrayal that the very system and players who taught him Le Metier would so readily cast him aside and leave him on his own. I don’t believe it’s a stretch to compare the scars he received from this experience to those of a victim of abuse. He would never trust his surroundings again.
Several times, he returned to the only world he knew, the professional peloton. But he wasn’t the same. He was bullied, he was teased. Occasionally, he rose above it all to show signs of his former self. Then, he would recede.
2003 was an exciting season as he returned to form and it appeared as though he was finding his own again. Imagine our excitement when, as we planned to visit the Tour for the month of July, rumors broke that he was leaving Mercatone Uno to join another team in order to race the Tour. We were foaming at the mouth at the thought of Ullrich and Pantani shelling Pharmstrong out the back as they partied like it was 1998.
It wasn’t to be. The team transfer didn’t materialize, and Pantani disappeared. The next time we were to hear from him would be the solemn announcement of his death on CyclingNews. I called my VMH and asked if she was sitting down before I told her what happened. It was as if I had given her the news of her brother’s death.
I truly believe he died of a broken heart.
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My heart bleeds for Pantani. He was the quintessential climber of his time, to be compared to none others.
I think Frank nails it, he died of a broken heart and how poignant it is that he died on St Valentines day, to be memorialized on the day of love into eternity.
His existence was either hot or cold.
He was either on top of it, or he was being spit off the back of the peloton eating dust...disappointing us all as his fans.
But the days he could climb were glorious. I imagine he is the embodiment of Charly Gaul of my time, and in many ways perhaps this is too true. Gaul would predict that 'today I will die' as he was teetering on the edge winning and just simply quiting. Pantani, although never said this, rode like it. Seeming to have 'nothing to lose' would go on a breakaway up a mtn pass in a transcendant way, to seem only to prove a point that he wanted to win, win, win.
And slipping into the twilight of his career and life outside of cycling may have just been too much as others cut from that mold have done, they sink into the depths of hell in a depression that make my hardest days of V look like creme puffs.
Afterall, after doing what Pantani did, riding like he did, spilling his guts for his countryman, his familia, his country, his fans, his team, his sport, can you imagine having to live a life trying to figure out who you are....now? He gave it all, what more can we ask now?
I for one love him and what he did, black eyes and all
it was all about the bike for him
RIP 'Il Pirata'
I've always thought of "tragedy" in classical terms; i.e., the great brought low by the very qualities that made them great. In other words, our characters contain both the potential for greatness and the seeds of destruction, inextricably linked and frequently in equal measure.
It seems that Pantani's greatness stemmed in no small part from his extraordinary ability to suffer physical pain, matched by his extraordinary inability to suffer mentally or spiritually. They say that in life "Pain is mandatory, suffering is optional". I don't think Marco (or Fausto for that matter) had the coping skills or support to manage emotional pain. And that insecurity led him to surround himself with people who he though would shield him from that pain. That obviously didn't work out so well, and Frank I think nails this perfectly, especially noting how Pantani was bewildered that "the very system and players who taught him Le Metier would so readily cast him aside and leave him on his own."
Let's face it; everyone was doping along with Pantani, he for some still barely understood reason was singled out. He couldn't understand it, couldn't deal with the emotional and spiritual stress, and destroyed himself in the aftermath.
Tragic.
Let's not demean his fall with any comparison to the likes of Riccardo Ricco, a rider with no similar accomplishments, a mean and petulant air, and a dumbass to boot.
good thoughts sgt
is it also possible that he didn't surround himself at all. Cast aside, or allowed himself to be cast aside, either way left isolated and left in a dark motel room in the middle of February, alone in a sea of self destruction and a heap of coke?
I am not second guessing 'friends', just that even if they had tried to help, (some did), but the legacy's of these tragedy's such as are some of the Greats of our sport, Charly Gaul specifically, many lived lives in isolation. Hermits. As you well note, unable to cope, deal with the reality of their lives. But is there something else there going on?
Gaul came out of it in his elder years
Pantani couldn't take it
Excellent story. Written with passion. Love it
@all
Wow, some really great thoughts and posts from everyone. It's great to see that others feel the same way; it feels like he'd appreciate that.
To clarify @ChrisO very reasonable remark about being singled out, I think Pantani was on a completely different level than Virenque, Brochard, Zulle, Moreau, Ricco or any of the others. These were riders without anything near the class nor the palmares that Pantani had.
I also think the Festinas fell because Voet was found with a carload of dope; Pantani was singled out (rumors broke in the days before the test that he would test positive in a few days) for reasons that are still unclear today. Virenque didn't even get sanctioned until 2000, he raced away for two more years, denying everything all the while. In my eyes, a completely different situation.
One of the things that kills me is that he felt - and was - so alone. I wonder how he would have responded had it happened to him in today's environment where positive dope test are a dime a dozen. Would he have found comfort in numbers and returned?
I don't know, but @Souleur and @sgt are onto something; maybe his isolation was the price of his brilliance. In any case, we miss you, Marco. May you rest in peace.
Pantani's story inspired me to ride the AIDS ride from SF to LA. He was already gone and I was nothing more than a dirtbag commuter on a Bottecchia, but after reading his tale and his passion for the climb I was hooked. I will always be drawn to his passion and in awe of his abilities legal or otherwise.
To not be able to read between the lines and realize that keeping his mouth shut when it would have been easier to out others in the Peloton, well, you're not getting the full story.
See you at the top, Marco. Have a cold Pinot Grigio waiting for me because I'll be way behind.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx5Zer4XJkg
In the evening when Italy is sad,
She looks like Rimini,
No, really, what took you,
To go and die in Rimini,
Blackbeard was waiting for you up there,
The pirates where proud of you,
No, really, what took you,
To go and die in Rimini,
You went higher faster than the others,
I hope you did not miss Paradise,
Yes, next to Rimini,
Even Palavas* looks sexy,
Because next to Rimini,
The Grande Motte* ressemble to Venise,
You went higher faster than the others,
Yes for you Rimini is really finished,
You went higher faster than the others,
I hope you did not miss Paradise,
One day with all the pirates,
You'll come back screaming vengance,
The bandana under the stars,
To reduce Rimini to ashes.
Ta.
* absolute shiite french sea resorts.
Pantaini captured imaginations - he was the new Lucho Herrera. But when I look back, after reading everything I can find about him, at the end of the day he was a cheat and had been cheating for so long that I don't think he knew how to get anything out of life without drugs. His professional career was built on drugs, which I think is why he found it so hard to leave them. Deep down, he was living a lie and it killed him in the end. Pity his friends didn't realise this until it was too late...
Armstrong killed Pantani.
The Pirate was head and shoulders the best climber in the world in '98 and '99, then all of a sudden a former one-day specialist is pedalling away from him on the Tour's biggest Cols. Desperate, he wonders what has given Pharmy his new 'wings'. Because Marco knew if he himself was on the go-juice, then Pharmy must have something even better. He attacked again and again, but to no avail. How could this be?
Not content with demoralising Marco on the road, Pharmy then belittled him with personal slander, classless name-calling and supposed 'gifts'. The road to self-destruction began. The downward spiral can be traced back to the 2000 Tour, and these incidents.
Armstrong killed Pantani. And JFK. Possibly Elvis.
@Brett
If Lance killed Pantani (which is a very unhinged claim, even from one of the unhinged Lance haters among us), what do you think the Spanish Cycling Federation killed today?
I think pro cycling is now officially in disarray. If the inevitable UCI appeal is denied, then I fear for the future of professional cycling...