HOT SAUCE get extra spicy
Mark McConnell's online persona - the fun, plucky cyclocrosser - doesn't discuss the injury and self-doubt the man himself has had to face. But behind the beard is a rider who's determined to make things better, for himself and his community
The mustache arrives first. Then the beard. Then the man. That’s how I spot Mark Mcconnell as he pedals a bike through the rain to meet me for coffee on this springtime evening in Calgary. Even here, the trendy Beltline district, where hipster handlebar ’staches are as ubiquitous as $7 coffees, Mcconnell’s facial hair seems to announce its arrival. It’s more than a beard; it’s a presence. It clings to his face like an unruly threat, not quite tame, but not quite wild. I try not to stare as he locks his bike with the swift confidence of a bike courier, a job he held for years in Calgary, but my beard envy is palpable. He smiles beneath it as he shakes my hand, rain collecting on that shag carpet and falling off in big drops while my sad little whiskers soak to the skin. I break my stare as he hands over a pair of hot pink socks emblazoned with his nickname, Hot Sauce. “These are for you,” he says with a smile. In a strange way, that beard and those socks are as much a part of Mcconnell’s cycling story as his race times and professional aspirations. Mcconnell may not be the best cyclocross racer in the country – although he is very good, and has the potential to be even better – but he may be the perfect Canadian cyclocross racer for his generation: a millennial social-media star, with a do-it-yourself marketing and entrepreneurial streak that he has ridden to the professional European cyclocross circuit. And that beard deserves some of the credit. It’s given him an identity and a selling feature that has helped him raise enough money to fund his dream outside of the traditional path of Canadian racers. It’s only as we sit to chat over a $7 coffee that I realize how good Mcconnell
has been at building his brand around the beard. After following his career as Hot Sauce throughout the years on social media, I expected a scrappy, fun-loving diyer racing to get his kicks. Instead, however, I encounter a thoughtful, reflective and unfailingly polite athlete with toils as big as his aspirations. Behind the social-media marketing, the image and the branding, Mcconnell is coming out of a difficult 2015–16 season that had him questioning everything to do with cycling. While he managed to keep up the brand story, privately he was struggling.
In those struggles, Mcconnell lays bare the challenges of being a cyclocross pro in Canada, where training can almost feel secondary to fundraising and, in some cases, the sacrifices required to make it to the world’s biggest stage can ultimately threaten what made you want it in the first place.
Mcconnell came late to high-level cycling. He was a runner originally, good enough for a spot on the University of Calgary’s cross-country team, until an injury put him off his feet. He took up cycling to stay fit and found he had a knack for it, especially the dirty and unpolished nature of cyclocross, and quickly climbed the ranks of Alberta’s amateur scene. More important, winning those races reignited a competitive fire in him. He was enjoying success so much that he toyed with the idea of going pro.
Mcconnell knew that making the big leap would require a huge jump in skills. There is almost no money for professional development in cyclocross in Canada, so he was largely on his own. In a fit of ambition, he figured the best way to improve was to race against the best, which meant heading to Europe. But a self-funded semi-pro career in Europe isn’t cheap. Working full-time as a bike courier in Calgary just wasn’t going to cut it.
He turned to crowdfunding his way to European circuit, almost on a lark. Inspired by the popularity of New Zealand rider Alex Revell, Mcconnell had a friend come up with a T-shirt design that played off his hirsute visage and his nickname, and the Hot Sauce brand was born. The original Guy Fawkesiconography inspired T-shirts took off, becoming a mainstay that could be spotted on fans at bike races throughout Alberta. Mcconnell then found himself off to the mud of Belgium.
Of his first full season, Mcconnell laughs and says he had “his ass handed to him” by the pros in Europe, who had been reared on the sport. But something else happened, too. European fans started noticing this quirky Canadian with the big mustache and the hot-pink Hot Sauce kit. His T-shirts continued to sell and fans asked for autographs, despite his modest success at the races. Belgians especially have a soft spot for tough diyers. They began to embrace the brand Mcconnell had created. In his social-media channels, Mcconnell grew into the persona, playing up his story as humble bike courier with a
dream, a scrappy underdog who may not win many races but will never give up. It came easy to Mcconnell because it was largely true. The harder he worked, the more fans seemed to flock to him, even if he was far from the podium. He seemed poised for a breakthrough in the summer of 2015. The brand was rolling, even if he still had to work as a courier in the off-season. But things soured that summer when, while out for a training ride on the outskirts of Calgary, he was involved in an altercation with a motorist. He won’t discuss details because there’s a civil case before the courts, but the incident saw Mcconnell struck by a vehicle that he says left him with a back injury. Not only did that affect his training, the incident got into his head. “For a long time, I just didn’t feel comfortable riding on roads anymore,” he says.
Still, he forged ahead with another foray to Europe. You might not have been able to tell if you only knew Mcconnell through his Hot Sauce persona, for whom every result is just part of living the dream, but it wasn’t a good season. His results were disappointing. The back injury nagged him throughout the year. He had mechanical problems. Without his wife, Aimee Ferguson, able to join him until later in season, he felt isolated and struggled to stay positive. “When Aimee arrived partway through the season, I was already a mess,” he says. “You can live this life in the pro peloton, but if you can’t unplug, it can consume you.”
I decided to do away with everything that was hindering me.”
It came to a head in the spring, when he sat down with his wife for a post-season meeting. The disappointing results left his spirits low. The court case was looming. He was tired of fretting about money. He worried about the toll on Aimee. He was facing another season of working as a bike courier to keep the lights on.
It’s easy to imagine how taxing it can be having to maintain a relentlessly positive social-media persona in such a situation, even if he denies it. While he didn’t shy away from his disappointments on Facebook or Twitter, the Hot Sauce brand doesn’t exactly jibe with loneliness and self-doubt. Sometimes, all you want to do is shut up for a while and feel sorry for yourself, but the perkiness required in a strong social-media presence for a pro athlete doesn’t leave much room for moments of self-pity. Mcconnell might never admit it, but there are moments when the brand that gave him so much must have felt like a yoke.
Running a marketing company promoting yourself is not something unique to Mcconnell. Being savvy at social media isn’t a requirement for becoming a pro cyclist, but when seeking sponsors or a spot on a team, it certainly helps. Pretty much every racer these days needs a social-media presence. But for every Jens Voigt yukking it up to hundreds of thousands of followers, there are dozens who fall flat. Finding the balance between self-promotion and the old-fashioned toil of training is tough for even the very best. Aaron Schooler, one of Canada’s best cyclocross racers (who Mcconnell credits with inspiring him to make the jump to Europe) says there is so much commitment to being a professional athlete that finding the right balance is a constant struggle. He chuckles at the idea
of his pre-race preparation being derailed by fans the way he’s seen Mcconnell’s. “I don’t resent the brand or social-media side of it at all. It’s a necessary part of being an athlete, to help build your brand and be an ambassador for your sponsors,” he told me. “But I also know that social media is not the be-all and end-all.”
The reality for ’cross racers in Canada, however, is that they have little choice. Kris Westwood, a former racer who now works for Cycling Canada and is part of a working group trying to improve support for ‘cross racers in Canada, says rules require that cycling funding go to Olympic sports, such as mountain bike, track and road racing. “We get no money at all for cyclocross,” he says. If Canadians want to face the best cyclocross athletes in the world, they need to raise cash by themselves. Sponsors help, but it’s tough these days to nail sponsorship based on results alone. “Cycling, by its nature, is a sport focused on sponsorship. If you can’t promote yourself, you’ll never have the capacity to raise enough money,” he says. “Nobody wants an athlete to be forced to sell a product to get to races, but that’s the reality these days.”
With those challenges, it would have been easy for Mcconnell to stop racing after the past season. But at that post-season meeting, Mcconnell went the other way. He got serious. “I decided to do away with everything that was hindering me,” he says. “I’m 27 now. I just thought that I’ve got to give myself a real chance.” He quit his job as a bike courier to focus on training – no more evening training rides after a seven-hour day of “junk miles” dodging downtown traffic. He’s looking forward to putting the court case behind him, and feels he’s beyond the road anxiety that came with it.
He also has no interest in settling for a persona of a lovable loser, so he’s worked with his coach Jack Vandyk to come up with a race strategy to maximize his chances at success. The strategy includes a focus on winnable North American races and a better European support system to help keep his mental focus while overseas. Mcconnell is in the best shape of his life heading into the season. Vandyk says he’s never seen as much potential in the rider. “Selfdoubt – every athlete struggles with it, but that’s what we’re working on,” Vandyk says. “He has the physical capacity to win races at that level. So much of it is mental.”
While Mcconnell the racer is in good form, Mcconnell the brand is also looking up. He has signed a sponsorship deal with Louis Garneau to help promote the Hot Sauce brand, which should ease some of the financial burdens. Mcconnell also seems to be more comfortable believing in the ideals of his brand beyond their capacity to raise money for himself. He’s committed to the idea of it – to him, “it” represents the idea of “getting out of your comfort zone to follow your dreams.” He’s also found the persona has given him perspective when things are not going well. He’s learning to use the Hot Sauce image to keep himself positive. He’s also started an amateur Hot Sauce team in Calgary, which is his way of giving back to the cycling community that has supported him so much. “You can only say ‘Hey guys, help me out,’ so many times,” he says. “Sharing the journey along the way is the least I could do for so many amazing people who have supported my campaigns over the years.”
All of this leads to a more assured racer, and, he hopes some better results this season. It’s still a tall order. Cyclorcoss is a tough slog for Canadians. The reality is that Mcconnell may never top a pro podium in Europe, but he can certainly put himself in a better position to try. After the difficulties he faced this past season, for someone who believes deeply in the ideals of his brand that, as he says, has “given him everything,” he seems now to be racing for something bigger than himself. Bigger even than that beard.