THE PASSPORT TO SUCCESS
Talent will rise to the top regardless of a rider's nationality
In 2018 there were 21 British riders in the WorldTour and the natural order would suggest that number will be about the same in 2019. Things have come a long way for British riders in the past decade or so. I’m still young enough to have been (just about) a contemporary of some current riders, yet I can remember a time when even one British rider in a professional team was something remarkable.
British riders have been quite fashionable of late, and not just for sideburns or Union flags. It is an interesting phenomenon in cycling that in the wake of success by an individual or individuals from a non-traditional cycling nation, there is a sudden rush to profit from it. Race organisers swoop in. Existing teams court new sponsors from that country, while entirely new teams, fuelled by national pride and packed with best of the local talent, spring to life. At the same time, the wider peloton starts to swell with riders from whichever country is issuing the golden passport; managers are quick to get the most from an untapped resource.
We have seen it before. In the early 2000s, Australians, whose presence in the pro peloton had once been limited to a few maverick individuals, came into vogue on the back of a successful track programme. While the spotlight shone brightly on riders like Stuart O’Grady and Baden Cooke, team managers scoured the amateur ranks for the next ‘Kangaroo’ to show even a modicum of talent. PostTour domination, Americans found they were in favour. New sponsors and teams sprung up. Today, the expectation that surrounds the next generation of Colombians is so high that the entire market of future Colombian talent has long been cornered.
The flip side of this seems to be that a lot of these riders who arrive after others have pushed open the door, rarely seem to reach the heights of those they are expected to emulate. For every Robbie McEwen there is a Brad Davidson. Today, not every Colombian will be a world beater. A question I ask myself, having worked in so-called New World cycling countries for the past 20 years, is that when passports become fashionable does our haste to jump on the next best thing mean that we overhype a rider’s real talent? Or does the early success mean we inadvertently stunt the development of the following wave by making things that little bit too easy?
That’s because while it may be easier to get in, getting to the top of cycling is as hard as it ever was. Discipline is still the foundation of success. A healthy fear of failure probably doesn’t do any harm. A streak of perfectionism is helpful. Having an unrelenting mentality that drives the rider pretty much to the point of madness – plus the mental strength to deal with all of that – is basically what’s needed. A lot of these characteristics were once forged on the hard journey of becoming a pro in Europe. Standing outside in the cold in the queue waiting to get in makes you decide if you really do want to go inside in the first place. Those that do decide they want in are damn sure they’re going to make it count.
It could be that the best are just the best, and the rest find their level. The idea that riders need to experience difficulty to become great is misguided, but I don’t think it’s helpful to make things too easy either. It is great to have opportunity on your side; it is also important to understand that reward comes from a great deal of hard work.
Talking of mental resilience and fashionable passports, the best story in cycling should be that a Kenyan is likely to become one of the most successful grand tour winners in history. The funny part being that it is only an ancestral visa that has meant we are not all off scouring Africa for the next big talent.