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Authors: John Deering

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Froome was phenomenal. He attacked; Cobo responded. He went again; Cobo caught him again. Cobo passed him and headed for the line. Froome caught him on the last corner, passed him and took the
stage; but Cobo preserved his lead. Wiggins battled but failed to stay within touching distance of the two climbers.

It had been an incredible race. Two British riders stood upon the podium at the finish of a grand tour for the first time in history, but neither of them had won, despite each of them having
held the leader’s jersey during the last week. Great success or massive disappointment?

The post mortem was a difficult one for Team Sky. They had to learn from the experience. Had they made mistakes? Hindsight said that if they had thrown their support behind Froome after he
originally took the lead, he would have kept it all the way to Madrid. However, it seemed disingenuous to blame management tactics. Wiggins was definitely the team’s big hitter; he had a
fourth place in the Tour de France under his belt, victory in that season’s Dauphiné, and he was committed and rested after his early Tour exit. Froome, on the other hand, had emerged
only as a useful
domestique
that season and had few laurel leaves topping his name on the list of races he’d ridden.

The discussions took place behind closed doors. What would happen if this situation were to repeat itself remained the secret of those who had contemplated it. One thing was clear: Chris Froome
would not be underestimated by his team in the future. In the face of stiff opposition from teams searching for a potential Tour winner, Brailsford tied his newest star to a lucrative long-term
contract.

Team Sky would head to the Tour de France with both men in their ranks.

*

Bradley Wiggins knows that 7 July 2012 may not be the day he wins the Tour de France, but it could easily be the day he loses it.

Two years ago, in his first Tour as leader and his first Tour at Team Sky, the first mountain stage was a massive disappointment for him. He couldn’t stay on the wheels of the leaders and
he would spend the rest of the race riding for as high a finish as possible rather than the yellow jersey. The intense heat and the intense pace as the select group of twenty or so men left Morzine
in the Alps for the finish above at Avoriaz had proved too much. No amount of tactical skill or team support can help at moments like this; it’s just the rider against the mountain. Against
his competitors. Against the world.

This moment has many names. The crunch. When push comes to shove. When the needle hits the record. Showtime. Whatever you want to call it, Brad knows that it’s coming, and it’s
coming today.

Team Sky, like most of the big squads, have already been to La Planche des Belles Filles to have a look. Not only the first important point of this year’s Tour, it had never featured in
the race before. There were no old-timers around to give their advice and reminisce about ancient ascents, where the moves would go, where to dig in. That was probably not such a bad thing in Sean
Yates’s case. He had famously given teammates in the Tour of Britain detailed advice about the steepest climb in the race – which gear to use, where to attack and so on – before
it turned out to be a different route to the one he thought he remembered.

There’s a more technical and professional approach these days for most teams, spearheaded by Team Sky’s demands for every last scrap of advantage, the marginal gains Brailsford is so
keen on. Rod Ellingworth, the team’s race coach, is charged with preparing the team for key moments such as this, and he had led the earlier visit to the little-known road in the Vosges.
Before today’s stage, the team sit back in their Lay-Z-Boy chairs on the bus, listen to Ellingworth’s instructions and watch his film of the road a little more intently than on previous
days.

Today it is Team Sky’s intention to take control of the race. On the understanding that Fabian Cancellara’s hold on the yellow jersey is likely to end on the 13% ramps towards the
top of the last climb to the line – he has admitted as much himself – then Bradley Wiggins should inherit it if all goes to plan. It is decided, therefore, that the team will ride as if
already in possession of the golden fleece, as leaders protecting it rather than pretenders coveting it.

There are 190km to ride before the bottom of the climb is reached, with a pair of third category mountains to clear on the way. Team Sky ride at the head of the race all day, daring Brad’s
competition to challenge them. Christian Knees is in charge for the early part of the day, the thin, aptly named German’s legs pumping smoothly on the front of the peloton for mile after
mile. Team Sky, of course, have a plan for the ascent of La Planche des Belles Filles itself. Though it hasn’t featured in the race before, amateur riders familiar with the hills of eastern
France know it as the climax of the tough Trois Ballons sportive beloved of this region, and the Saturday throng is lined along the wooded verges long before the race arrives.

When it does, it is the Norwegian Champion’s jersey of Edvald Boasson Hagen that leads the way, his broad frame shouldering up the centre of the road, leaving the entire field strung out
in his wake. His effort is so intense that the field splits behind him and the breakaway riders that have been out in front since the outskirts of Tomblaine are swept up immediately. Behind, it is
the turn of Lotto Belisol’s leader Jurgen Van Den Broeck to get some bad luck, as the aggressive Belgian needs a bike change at the worst possible moment. He finds himself not only needing to
chase but separated from the front of the race by the back half of the split peloton. He is the second overall challenger to have a bad day, as Ryder Hesjedal’s problems from
yesterday’s crash have forced him out of the race for good. The third big name to get a kick in the teeth is Alejandro Valverde, an untimely puncture victim.

Boasson Hagen is ‘puddin’ da hoid on’, as Cadel Evans’s New York teammate George Hincapie would have it. But behind him, Richie Porte, Mick Rogers, Chris Froome and
Bradley Wiggins are all cruising, a menacing sight for the other riders. For some team leaders they’re not a sight at all, as Robert Gesink disappoints the Dutch who have wagered thousands of
euros on him and drops away, as do Frank Schleck and Andreas Klöden. It is, indeed, showtime.

At the front, it’s time to really stick the knife in. After Boasson Hagen’s sustained power, Richie Porte cranks it up, then it’s over to Chris Froome. The team’s true
climber takes up the lead for the steepest portions of the road. There are only a dozen or so riders left, and Evans is seriously exposed by his lack of teammates, especially compared to Team
Sky’s numbers. The defending champion responds to his difficulty with immense strength of character and launches his move. Wiggins stays calm, knowing that sudden accelerations are not his
forte, and continues his high tempo ascent, while Froome covers the Australian’s move. There are only yards left to the line, and as the road steepens for the last time, Evans falters and
Froome takes full advantage, charging past him to snatch the biggest win of his career. Brad matches Evans pedal stroke for pedal stroke and crosses the line inseparable from the champion, two
seconds behind the ecstatic Froome.

‘It wasn’t the plan to go for the stage, it was just keeping Brad up there,’ grins a breathless Froome a few minutes later. ‘I gave it a nudge and couldn’t believe
it when Cadel didn’t follow my wheel. I’m speechless. That was a dream come true. I’m chuffed to bits.’

Evans is a gloomy figure in the face of Team Sky’s dominance as he looks into the near future: ‘We could have taken a more aggressive role in the race, but when you see Wiggins has
three guys with him and I’ve got one, or I’m isolated already, what can you do? It showed the strength of their team.’ It’s not a bad day for Evans, however, as he surveys
the damage behind and reasons that he’d lost time to nobody, unlike the vast majority of his competitors. He is full of praise for Froome, a figure he’d known little about before this
season: ‘Froome was incredible – he rode on the front for the last 3km or something and he was able to follow me and accelerate past me.’

A princely sideburned figure takes his helmet off in the background and breathes deep lungfuls of mountain air. The Tour de France’s travelling city generates a huge amount of carbon
monoxide through its thousands of vehicles and mobile generators, but it is unlikely that any air ever smelled sweeter. Bradley Wiggins had ridden like a true leader and a confident winner –
a man here for one reason only and with a team powerful enough to carry him there. Bradley Wiggins is the new leader of the Tour de France.

‘My priority was to watch Cadel because I knew I was going to take yellow,’ said the Londoner, as composed and analytical as ever. ‘It’s fantastic. Froomey’s taken
the stage and is King of the Mountains, and I’m in yellow, so it was an incredible day.’

One of the few other Englishmen who knows what it’s like to pull on the yellow jersey had a proud look on his face as he leaned back on his Jaguar and turned his face to the sun. ‘We
laid down the law today and proved that we are very, very strong,’ said Sean Yates.

Chris Froome is welcomed on to the podium twice, first to accept the Champagne as stage winner and then to don the polka dot jersey of King of the Mountains. It is one of the rare moments in the
modern history of this race when the best climber, as Froome has clearly demonstrated he is, gets to wear the jersey. The jersey is decided by collecting points for being first over the top of the
hills and mountains that are scattered all over the second two weeks of this race, so it tends to be won by a rider who is low enough on overall consideration to be able to slip into breaks every
day and hunt down those points. Riders with higher aspirations – in Froome’s case, protecting his leader’s shiny new yellow jersey – have to forego this prize.

Foregoing prizes is becoming a theme for Chris Froome.

Bradley Wiggins steps up like he’s spent his life on that podium instead of spending his life waiting for this moment. The jersey is made for him. He kisses the podium girls with the
relaxed confidence of a former lover. He shakes Bernard Hinault’s hand as if he’s saying goodbye after a day in the office and they’ll see each other tomorrow. They probably will.
And the day after that, too.

Wiggins, the prolific tweeter, summed up his day thus: ‘Honoured to be in yellow made possible by an incredible group of guys, big thank you and huge congratulations to Mr
Froome.’

THE AFTERMATH OF ATHENS
was not a pretty thing for Bradley Wiggins. By his own admission, he hopped on to a carousel of celebratory dinners, public
appearances and candle-burning that would stretch through the autumn of 2004, into the winter, over the festive period into the New Year and deep into 2005. The whole period was awash with alcohol
and the bleariness of a hundred hangovers.

It started as soon as the Games were over – several post-event interviews in Athens were completed in a bit of a haze – and continued through the Tour of Britain. The race had an
end-of-term party feel about it, as the reassembled British riders rode hard all day and partied hard all night, culminating in a couple of infamous nights that are still talked about with
affection and disbelief on the circuit today. ‘Do you remember that night in Newport? Now that was a night . . .’ Et cetera.

Cath was pregnant and still working that winter. Brad put his bike in the garage and left it there, spending his days in the pub before getting home in time to cook his new wife – they had
married in November – dinner, which would invariably be accompanied by a bottle of wine or two. Looking back later, he felt that he was entitled to enjoy his time in the sun after the amazing
success of Athens, but his eternal approach of doing everything to the maximum also applied to enjoyment and he admits now that he ‘lost the plot a bit’.

The period was also marred by depression, a strange sort of post-achievement lethargy that was hard to break. The money that Brad had vaguely expected to roll in for a triple gold medal winner
failed to materialise and it began to dawn on him that he would have to work for the cash his family needed. He needed new goals. It was the perennial problem for those who achieve their lifetime
goals at a young age, especially those who achieve them at 24: what will I do now?

He had signed an improved contract at Crédit Agricole, but he had been so poorly paid in 2004 that it was still something of an embarrassment. There were no endorsement packages for
razors or breakfast cereal. When the bike finally came out of the garage, its owner was a stone overweight and going nowhere fast. His teeth grinding with resentment at the lack of interest his
team were showing him and the low salary they felt he merited, he listlessly began racing again. Crédit Agricole had him in the frame for his first Tour de France, but he was doing little to
merit those plans.

Everything changed forever in March. Ben Wiggins was born. The excited father, to his eternal annoyance, was racing and missed the moment. Rushing home, he got there too late. Never mind. It
wasn’t that moment itself that changed the world for Brad, but what it meant for the future. He suddenly saw with clarity that he was the spearhead of a unit now, the man that would have to
provide for his family, the breadwinner, the focused professional. The dilettante he was in danger of becoming was banished. Only the best would do for his wife and his son.

BOOK: Bradley Wiggins
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