Blue Sky thinking
When my aged aunt was holidaying on the island of Mallorca recently, she couldn’t help noticing a strange band of skinny men dressed in black emerging from a huge bus emblazoned with the logo of a well-known satellite TV company. One of the men, whom she described as ‘resembling the sporty younger brother of BBC politics editor Nick Robinson’, was plainly in charge, and as the group disappeared into a luxury hotel, a piece of paper dropped from the bald man’s rear pocket.
Curious, my aunt picked up the paper and read it, but it made little sense to her, so she posted it to me to see if I could understand its content. This is what it said:
‘Dear Team, I thought I’d outline our targets so that we’re singing from the same blank sheet.
‘Minor benefits will, as always, be key. Take care of your appearances. Vasil, remember to zip up your jersey. There were times last year, with your “S” hanging limp from your “KY”, when it looked as if we were sponsored by a popular brand of lubricant. Rupert wasn’t happy.
‘Talking of gelatinous substances, we’re doubling your daily dosage of high-quality fish oil. To save time, four grams will be added to your organic agave nectar gels. When cold, we’ll mix with a bidon of sweet tea. Admittedly, taste may be compromised – but broken eggs, omelettes, and all that.
‘Which brings me on to other unsavoury stuff. Remember Geert Leinders, the freelance doctor we carelessly employed despite his murky past? No, he hasn’t joined the others at Tinkoff-saxo. He’s been banned. And to avoid any more potential banana skins, steer clear of anyone previously associated to Rabobank. Kazakhs are off limits too.
‘In fact, Wout excepted, there’ll be no fraternising with the Dutch either. Or the Spanish. Or anyone older than 30. It’s just not worth the hassle. But do speak to the French boys. They’re fair game. In fact, I want you to tap up all the French talent you can find for a future pet project of mine.
‘The key to winning this year will be not crashing. Or getting ill. If you’re feeling ropey then go into quarantine. We’re cutting no corners this year. My thirst for becoming the most consistent team in the world will not be quenched by regular crashes in the Classics. Wear knee pads and wrist guards if necessary – and avoid Tyler Farrar.
‘In terms of actual targets, it’s all about the Tour. Richie, we love you, but you have no chance in the Giro. Use Leo and Sergio to run Tinkoff ragged so that Contador will be cooked come July. Then Froomie will strike back. As for the Vuelta, I’ll let you battle it out between yourselves for Fantasy points.
‘Regarding the Classics, there’s no reason why Wiggo, G, Yogi and Bernie cannot all make the top five in Roubaix. If Brad wins, Froomie’s in charge of the party. If he doesn’t, then please let him win the Tour de Yorkshire for Team Wiggins. That was the agreement we made last July, right, Bradley?
‘To summarise, keep looking at the bigger picture. I may wear stylish, thick-framed media glasses, but I’m all about 20/20 vision. We succeeded in inspiring one million people to take up cycling; now I want one million people buying replica Sky jerseys from Rapha. Although, within the next five years I also want a Tour team made up entirely of national champions so that the trolls on Twitter can’t complain about our boring kit.
‘We were once so feared that our staff were Stormtroopers and our bus was the Death Star. Let’s revive the beast. This year, The Force awakens. The rebellion of Contador, Nibali and the new hope, Quintana, must be crushed. There’ll be no flukes, Sky riders. If I sound like your father, it’s because I am – in a manner of speaking. And with our combined strength we can end this internal conflict and restore a sense of order.’
After Team Sky’s miserable 2014, what’s the plan for this year? Eurosport blogger Felix Lowe stumbles across a secret memorandum…
Felix Lowe (whose aunt has never set foot in Mallorca) is author of Climbs And Punishment.