Brits go wild for Wiggo
Too much the commoner to feel comfortable on the golden thrones set up for the medallists in the shadow of Hampton Court Palace, the man they call Wiggo got up and back on his bike.
Pumping one fist and then two, Bradley Wiggins rode past the gate containing dignitaries and ticket holders to the fans who came for free — delirious British fans jumping atop the barriers. His bike jersey open to reveal a bare chest, Wiggins blew a kiss to the crowd that ate up his every gesture.
They waved banners reading “Go Wiggo!” and “Wiggold.”
True enough, that. Less than two weeks after becoming the first Brit to win the Tour de France, Bradley Wiggins crushed the field in the Olympic road time trial, covering the 44-kilometre course around the countryside southwest of London in 50 minutes, 39.54 seconds, 42 seconds faster than second-place Tony Martin of Germany. Wiggins’ countryman and Team Sky teammate, Chris Froome, was third. Canada’s Ryder Hesjedal finished 28th.
Unwittingly, fans in the background were stand-ins for what may become the enduring Olympic postcard from London: Wiggins, superstar cyclist but man of the people, among his people. Ever the mod, with the long sideburns, Wiggins hammed it up and the grounds beyond Hampton Court Palace exploded in cheers. What a scene: the most decorated British athlete in Olympic history with seven medals — including three previous gold medals on the track — grandstanding, not for his enjoyment but for theirs.
How does Sir Wiggo sound, a reporter asked him at a later media conference.
“It doesn’t quite sound right, does it?” said Wig- gins, the first response in what was surely the most entertaining conference of these Games.
“As much of an honour it would be to receive something like that,” Wiggins said about potential knighthood, “I don’t think I’d ever use it, just put it in the drawer. I’ll always just be Brad.”
The best and worst of the Tour de France still fresh in his mind, Wiggins couldn’t help but plumb the cultural differences between the Tour and the Five-Ring Circus.
“The Olympics is really positive all the time ... everybody just wants to talk to you about the performance,” Wiggins said. “At the Tour, you’re always justifying yourself about something, whether it’s your sideburns or the colour of trousers you’re wearing that day. You’re protected at the Olympics, so you don’t have to face the press everyday: ‘How do you think tomorrow’s going to go? What if the legs fall off, what if your bike breaks ... what if an alien jumps out in front of you in the time trial?’ ”
In his triumph, Wiggins couldn’t forget about the people who weren’t among what he calls the “chosen few” with accreditation or tickets to the finish line and medal presentation area.
That’s why, he said, he rode past to those in steerage.
He’d already sped past them once, powering over the flat, pebbly course with what Froome calls Wiggins’ “huge engine.”
Rightly, Froome gave his friendly rival props for being able to refocus so quickly after winning that “little yellow jersey” over in France.
Wiggo-mania has since overtaken Britain, as new and long-suffering cycling fans have come out of the woodwork. An estimated 300,000 were on the course, not just calling the names of Wiggo and Froome but screaming them.
“I’m never, ever going to experience anything like that again in my sporting career. That’s it, man, it kind of tops off there, really. It was phenomenal, it really was.”