THE SPIN SPINNING PLATES
With vast uncontrollable variables in play, it’s a wonder any rider wins the Tour de France more than once, says John Whitney
July saw the second return of Lance Armstrong to the Tour de France. For Armstrong-ophobes, don’t worry - he didn’t set foot in Europe, instead confined to Aspen and Austin-based studios, where he hosted a daily podcast, Stages, discussing the race.
Armstrong has been in the podcasting game for over a year now, initially with his weekly The Forward show, and Stages, equally, was a mixed bag. At its best, it was a guilty pleasure - his charisma, despite everything, remains intact, and he offers opinions with the frankness of a man with little to lose. At its worst, he really would benefit from a decent fact checker (Matteo Trentin wasn’t racing before you, Lance, nor was the Pyrenean stage 13 in the Massif Central). And the familiar swipes at the media and assorted enemies, with his Stages sidekick JB Hager, got more wearisome the further we approached Paris.
His opinions didn’t always seem those of a man with his finger on the pulse of the pro game; his belief that the tumultuous stage to Chambéry should have ended at the summit of the Mont du Chat ignored the growing feeling that too many mountain top finishes locks the race into a predictable pattern. The racing on stage nine was one for the ages, and brought into focus one of Armstrong’s more enduring ponderings of the race, about what goes into a Tour-winning ride: namely, figuring out how to run a marathon, play a game of chess, drive a Nascar and run for president, all at the same time. Chris Froome, who continued to evolve into a supreme allround bike racer, again displayed his mastery of all four elements, never more so than in the space of the final climb and descent of the Mont du Chat. Here, the Team Sky man thrived, dictating the tempo towards the summit, leading the rollercoaster descent down the other side and, crucially, having the political skill to ensure the leading group refused to work with the opportunistic Fabio Aru while he recovered from a gear failure.
If you ever wanted to see a stage that demonstrated the precariousness of the Tour de France, the stage to Chambéry was it. Even when you think you’ve got a decent grip on things, bad luck bites you on the arse. Just look at Dan Martin, who was successfully negotiating the Mont du Chat’s pig of a descent when he was taken clean out by a tumbling Richie Porte in a shocking moment where the Tour de France turned, for a moment, into a game of skittles. In any Grand Tour someone, obviously, has to win but you have to give huge credit to guys like Froome who, against all odds, repeatedly string 21 disaster-free days together and win - or, as he did on stage 15 to Le Puy-enVelay, snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, even when bad luck strikes. The same almost applies for Armstrong: sure, he was a cheat but to go 147 Tour stages in a row without race-ending calamity deserves some sort of recognition, even with all the drugs.
You have to give credit to guys like Froome who repeatedly string 21 disaster-free days together