ED'S LETTER
Ionce played football at Wembley stadium. It wasn’t real football, of course – it was a media charity fundraising thing, where lots of out-of-shape journalists puffed around the hallowed turf, occasionally scuffing the ball into the stands to the ironic cheers of the seven people in the crowd. As I recall, we lost our match by a hefty margin. Our defeat was mainly because no one in our team wanted to play in defence, and everyone wanted to be the star striker, meaning we played the little-known formation of 1-1-8. Subsequently, the opposition scored against us almost at will. But winning wasn’t really the point. It was all about being there: getting changed in the same dressing rooms as national heroes (this was the era when Alan Shearer captained England and Wembley still had its twin towers); running out of the tunnel to the (recorded) roar of the fans; seeing my name appear on the giant screen.
It was a rare and special moment that I still cherish. After all, how many people ever get to play at the most celebrated venues of their favourite sports? The pitch at Wembley is off limits to the majority of footballers, just as amateur tennis players will never get to serve a ball on Centre Court at Wimbledon and weekend cricketers will never get to hit a six at Lords. Unless your sport is cycling.
As cyclists we are uniquely privileged in that we can ride the same roads as the pros and pit ourselves on the same climbs that have shaped the history of our sport. That’s why this issue we have started a new series of features where we visit classic climbs and relive the great moments of the big races, beginning with the stunning Tre Cime di Lavaredo in northern Italy.
It’s the nearest most of us will get to being Eddy.