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Idolization
by Ben Greenwood | 15/09/09
The Tour of Britian is the zenith of the season, for riders like us it’s our big stage, our Wembley, our Lords. The Tour de France may be the pinnacle of pro cycling, but for every pro rider in a small team, it’s their national tour that catches the imagination. The chance to race on roads you know, in front of people who know you. For 8 days you are a star who people come to see. Your sitting room might not smell of mahogany, you might not own a number of leather bound books, but for a week you’re quite a big thing.
I could tell you what it feels like to ride in front of such big crowds, what it feels like to attack on the climbs you’ve trained on since you were a young boy, what it feels like to be riding through and off with Tom Boonen or coming 2nd only to Andy Schleck in the fight for the mountains jersey. But I won’t. Why? Because that’s what every other rider will tell you about, you’ll hear about the long transfers, the days in the rain, the funny moments in the bunch. And there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s what the fans want to know, they’ve seen the stars, now they want to know what it’s like from within the peleton. But today I’m going to offer you a new perspective, not what it’s like to ride the Tour of Britain, but what it’s like to not ride the Tour of Britain.
Because if you’re not riding the race, you’re not a star, for that week you’re not a big thing. You have to sit at home watching the race on TV, no amount of leather or mahogany can change that.
This year will be the 6th year of the current incarnation of the Tour of Britain, and it will be the 5th time I’ve not ridden it. In 2004 I rode for the number 1 team in the UK, Recycling.co.uk. We dominated the Premier Calendar, were easily the best team in the country, but the small matter of UCI registration proved to be our undoing. While riders we were beating every week got a ride with the Welsh and Scottish teams, we were left licking our wounds, missing out on the opportunity to weave through parked cars in Blackpool. In 2005 the team got in, but alas I did not. Despite a win in the U-23 National Champs and being at the top of my game, experience won and youth lost. Admittedly, my relationship with my team manager was somewhat strained after that, made even more frustrating by the entire team missing a big break on the 1st day. At least he had the grace to admit his selection error afterwards, a little too late but it was appreciated none the less.
Finally in 2006 my chance came, and what a memory it was. But I’m not telling you about that. After a year in Italy spent eating plenty of gelato and pizza but not much in the way of actual racing, I was back in the Tour last year. Well to say I was back is slightly misleading, I was on the start list, see ‘Luck’ for further details of that DNS followed shortly after by the reasons for this years DNS.
So here we are now, in the middle of the biggest race of the season. The training is complete, the course has been set, the time is upon us. And I’m standing by the sidelines, watching and waiting. You see, the memories of racing stick with you, those are times you never forget, but the pain of not racing lingers also. Watching a race you’re not meant to be in is fun, you can enjoy the spectacle, soak up the the atmosphere. But to watch a race you should be in, seeing the stars of the show ride past, receiving the idolization of the fans, while you stand surrounded by people yet somehow feeling out of place, alone in your predicament. That’s the true feeling of not riding the Tour of Britain, maybe next year I can make it 2 out of 7.
Despite my reservations about visiting this year’s Tour of Britain, I decided to travel to Peebles to watch the 3rd stage. Partly to show support to my team-mates, but also to see my friend, Canuti of the CSF team, who I rode with in my time racing in Italy. The town of Peebles had certainly made a big effort to welcome the race and despite a cold morning, the crowds were out in force. Faces were recognised, hands were shook and I was told tales from the earlier days on the race. It was slightly uncomfortable watching the boys head off into the distance while I was left trying to find my car, to rush to the climb halfway through the stage. To be honest I’d have been much warmer riding because the top of the climb was freezing, but seeing ‘Lappers’ in the break made me forget about the cold.
The finish was slightly bizarre in that in was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a field on one side and a gift shop on the other. Watching the finish of a race is not really something I’m accustomed to, it seems like alot of standing around to see a few seconds of action. The bunch sprint flashed by, with joy for Boassen-Hagen, frustration for a few others, and pain for a few guys who had fallen off in the closing stages. As usual, the riders weren’t too talkative immediately after the stage, each man contemplating his own day of suffering, his own missed opportunity, his own misfortune. And there I stood, in no pain, without tired legs, but wishing I did. As the team camper pulled away I waved my goodbyes, and that was it, my Tour of Britain experience over, while the race continues on. And I’ll be glued to my TV for the next 5 days, hoping for a Rapha Condor win, supporting my team, and thinking about next year…
