The Backstedts’ emotional highs and lows
Commentator magnus (known as maggy) broke down in tears live on air when Zoe claimed the junior women’s road race gold at the UCI World Championships in Belgium in 2021.
and there’ve been many high points among the family’s cycling achievements.
But as former champion cyclists themselves, parents magnus and meg are also very aware of what can go wrong, with elynor having broken her leg and collarbone twice in recent years and suffering concussion after a collision with a car in 2017.
magnus and meg say the nerves are worse watching their children compete rather than during their own time as competitive cyclists. they naturally want elynor and Zoe to do well and, of course, for them to finish every ride safely.
“It’s always nerve-wracking watching them racing,” says magnus. “I think probably meg gets a bit more nervous than I do.”
meg adds: “I’ve been through it as a cyclist, I’ve been through it as a wife, when you were racing, maggy, and watching all of your lead-outs, your finishes.
“Luckily, maggy being that little bit taller, I could always spot where he was in the peloton [the main pack of riders in a road race] when they were coming towards me and I was like, ‘right, he’s done his bit, he’s pulled off, right,’ (she exhales) and then it’s the relief.
“now with the girls racing it’s watching as a parent and I have to say that is far worse than anything. Sorry maggy,” she jokes.
as a former professional cyclist, magnus says he also notices more than other parents might.
“You want them to perform at the best of their capability, whether that’s good enough to win or whether that’s good enough to do a really good job for the team that they’re riding for,” he says.
“Whatever it might be, you want them to be to be able to do their best and have a good day on the bike. and you can see when they’re having a good day and they’re doing a great job and that fills you with pride and relief.
“and you can see when they’re struggling on the bike and straight away you’re starting to get a little bit worried [thinking], ‘What’s going on, is there anything not right?’
“With my background both racing, bike fitting and coaching and all the rest of it, I see the details a little bit more clearly. and sometimes I probably put more worry into meg by seeing all these little things.
“Ultimately, you always have that worry of a crash. I’ve gone through those with me and meg, elynor and Zoe also having had a few bumps to deal with.
“[Crashes] are part of the sport and it’s just making sure you got the network of people around them to look after them in the best possible way and get the care that they need as quickly as possible.”
ON THEIR own, there’s nothing all that noteworthy about these houses. Each one clambers behind the last, marching up the steep hills towards the sun like concrete dominoes burrowed into the landscape. But, together, the rows of terraces cemented into the slopes of the Rhondda Valley are among the nation’s most iconic sights, nestling down alongside the luscious greenery that appears to billow up to the sky above.
Once a potent symbol of this country’s industrial might, it is now a part of the world that can, on occasion, feel left by behind by the relentless march of modernity.
But while so much has eroded away, the value of community and hard work remains embedded into the very bricks and mortar of each building. Of each paving stone. Of each beating heart.
When Wales step out onto the world stage in Qatar, there won’t be many places bursting with more collective pride than here. But, despite having seen Welsh football’s golden generation qualify for two consecutive European Championships, the sight of Wales at a World Cup will still feel surreal.
George Baker is one of the few here who knows exactly what it feels like.
Well, sort of. The 86-year-old is one of only four surviving members of the 22-man squad named for the 1958 World Cup, the last time Wales were placed on this sort of pedestal.
However, he never got the chance to kick a ball in Sweden. In fact, he never even got to Sweden at all. To this day, he’s not 100 per cent sure why.
“There were lots of rumours going around that some of the FAW directors took their wives instead of four players,” he tells the Western Mail. “I had the itinerary about where we were staying and everything.”
His story seems bizarre in the context of the modern era. The glitz and glamour of Qatar certainly feels a long way from George’s humble terraced home in Tylorstown, although it would be foolish to underestimate the level of footballing heritage in this area. In this neighbourhood, in fact.
Just around the corner from George’s house, you’ll find the childhood home of Wales boss Rob Page, who will announce his squad for the upcoming tournament in this very village and will no doubt have this community in mind when bellowing out his Gwlads in Doha.
George, like so many others, will be one of those watching on from afar.
We take a seat in the corner of his living room and, over a milky tea and a couple of Welsh cakes, he removes a framed shirt from the wall.
“That was the first game Wales ever played at under-23 level. Nobody then had played and beaten England in this country,” he says proudly.
He prods the frame to point out where he is in a line-up photo that includes several household names, including Mel Charles and Cliff Jones, both of whom went on to play important roles for their country.
“England had a better team there than when they won the World Cup,” he says with a wry smile. “Jimmy Greaves, Brian Clough, there were some big names playing that day.”
This under-23s clash was perhaps the high point of a story that started on the humble streets of Maerdy, one of the many once-flourishing mining villages dotted around these valleys.
After leaving school in 1952, George was seen as a promising footballing talent and was offered trials with Cardiff City and Plymouth Argyle. He went for the latter as it was also the choice of one of his close childhood friends, but he couldn’t sign a professional contract until he was 17. Instead, he worked as a member of ground staff and balanced
Nobody told me in person. It was all done by letter. Once I got that, I was just waiting... there was no training, so I had to keep fit in case I was called up