THE SPIN FOR BIDON
The UCI loses its bottle after throwing Michael Schär off the Tour of Flanders
As soon as he’d tossed the bottle in the direction of a group of fans by the roadside, AG2R Citroën’s Michael Schär, remonstrating with his hands and then slamming them onto his handlebar, had the body language of a man who knew his jig was up. Schär, racing in early April’s Tour of Flanders, was about to become the first pro rider to fall foul of the UCI’s new rule on littering, which decreed that riders would face fines or expulsion from races should they dispose of waste outside of designated zones.
Make no mistake, the new rule has laudable aims. Professional cycling, despite being played out on human-powered vehicles, isn’t exactly a poster child for Extinction Rebellion, with its globe-trotting race calendar and conga-like race convoy leaving CO emissions by the kilogram in its wake. Add to this the needless tossing of gel wrappers, bananas and other assorted rubbish into the hedges of the open roads in which the races travel, and you have an unholy environmental mess that needs to be clamped down on. Throwing litter sets a bad example and will encourage fans to do the same at races, sportives and club rides around the world.
Anyone who’s ridden a bike on the road recently - or been to any public space to do anything - knows that littering is a scourge that has crept back into our society with a vengeance.
However, the Schär disqualification (DQ) leaves a nasty taste - and not just for the fan who collected the bottle, were they to sample its electrolytic contents. Water bottles, or bidons as they’re known in road cycling parlance, are the ultimate souvenir for fans at a race, particularly if thrown from the sweaty grasp of a rider. In times of Covid they might need to be treated like a dirty bomb, handled with rubber gloves and run through a tough dishwasher setting multiple times, but once decontaminated they can take pride of place in any memorabilia collection. For that to no longer be an option for fans, unless they’re unfortunate enough to be spectating within a designated waste zone, is indeed sad and feels like a well-intentioned rule soured by a lack of nuance.
Schär took to Instagram following his DQ to attack the decision to chuck him out with a nostalgic story about how being the recipient of a bidon as a kid at the 1997 Tour de France set him on the path to becoming a professional cyclist. In the post, titled ‘Dear UCI: Why kids start cycling’, Schär wrote, “This little plastic piece made my cycling addiction complete. Back home that bottle was reminding me every day of what my dream was. I rode my yellow Team Polti bottle every day in full pride. Every day.” Now a pro, he says, “During calm moments of the race I always keep my empty bottle until I see some kids next to the road. Then I throw it gently right where they can catch it safely.”
Ignoring the fact that Schär threw his bottle to a bunch of adults whose prospects for a future in the pro peloton could be filed under ‘fantastical’, the outlawing of an act of generosity that can, at best, have life-changing ramifications for the recipient is regrettable. Especially for a product - a bottle - with little long-term prospects beyond landfill.
His post attracted the backing of many of his Instagramming colleagues: “Couldn’t agree more mate! I’ll happily get DQ’d for giving a bottle to a young fan on the side of the road,” said Rohan Dennis. “Commissaries often have a difficult job, but they must have the ability to use discretion and common sense. Not just the arbitrary, autocratic application of the rules,” said commentator and former pro Matt Stephens. “Well said, mate. Is there a governing body more out of touch with its sport?” wrote Richie Porte, momentarily forgetting about the fevered competition for that prize in the wider world of sports governance.
“Bidons are the ultimate souvenir for fans at a race, particularly if thrown from the grasp of a rider”