Bradley Wiggins (2 page)

The 2007 Tour de France, after the amazing weekend in London that kicked it off, developed into one of the most exciting contests in the long history of the race. A stick-thin pale Danish boy
called Michael Rasmussen and a prodigiously talented Spanish rider by the name of Alberto Contador knocked seven bells out of each other every time the course headed uphill. It was riveting
viewing, and many man-hours were lost as bike fans the world over bunked off work to follow the daily drama. The battle royal raged across France with the combatants drawing on superhuman exertion
to put one over each other.

But Rasmussen’s efforts were indeed superhuman. His challenge unravelled as a trail of missed drugs tests and a sorry story of ‘vampire’ dodging, during which he led the UCI
testers a merry dance as they attempted to pin him down, saw him thrown off the race. The reputation of the Tour and the sport itself was once again swimming in detritus at the bottom of the
world’s dirtiest sink. In fact, make that the world’s least appealing urinal, as double stage winner Alexandre Vinokourov went out the same exit door of shame after brazenly cheating
the blood doping regulations.

With the French press gloomily announcing ‘
le mort du Tour
’ and the legacy of dozens of sordid tales of doping, cheating, lying and subterfuge littering the sport’s
recent history, this was one of cycling’s lowest moments. It certainly felt that way to those fans who had been avoiding the morning commute to cheer on their heroes. Heroes with feet of
clay, it now seemed. Even Bradley Wiggins, a frequent and outspoken critic of doping, found himself drawn into the 2007 mess when his teammate on the French Cofidis squad, Cristian Moreni, tested
positive for testosterone. The hormone is known as ‘the idiot’s drug’ in cycling due to the strong chance of you being caught if you abuse it. The whole team were removed from the
race, showing that even the most vehement of protesters can find himself tarred with a great big dirty brush.

How would Dave Brailsford be able to put his master plan into action against this tawdry backdrop? He faced the issue head on, talking about providing an antidote to the constant negative
stories – ‘the doom and gloom’ as he called it. The garlanded cycling writer Richard Moore would even later mischievously suggest that Brailsford was perhaps using ‘the
logic of the property market: buy when prices are low’.

As it happened, in the end, the deal almost came to Brailsford rather than him chasing down the cash in the traditional way of these things. Sky, the Murdoch empire’s broadcasting giant,
were looking for a sport in which to get involved – a sport they could own publicity-wise, a sport that worked on a myriad of different levels from children’s participation through
family leisure pursuits via fitness fanatics to the best professional outfit in the game. Sponsors have a closer relationship with their teams in cycling than any other sport. Steven Gerrard
doesn’t play for Carlsberg, he plays for Liverpool. Lewis Hamilton doesn’t drive for Santander, he drives for McLaren. But Bradley Wiggins and Mark Cavendish, in 2012 at least, ride for
Sky. There’s value in that.

In fact, even more value than you might think. Sky, under the aegis of BSkyB, the operating company, directly paid £6m towards the running of the team in 2011, the last year for which
figures are available at the time of writing. This came out of the company’s marketing budget, which was, for the same period, wait for it, £1.2bn. OK, we don’t know the costs for
2012, and expensive arrivals like Mark Cavendish don’t come cheap, however, the transfer costs incurred by the team when buying Wiggins, among others, out of his previous contract, will have
disappeared. So, let’s just suppose for a minute that BSkyB put in the same amount of money in 2012 as they did in 2011. That means the entire publicity attained by the team in this
glory-soaked season accounts for just 0.5% of their total marketing spend. That sounds like the sort of value most people can appreciate.

It sounded very much like a match made in heaven.

*

In the spirit of doing things differently, Sky had given themselves what Brailsford would call a ‘nice problem to have’. When the team was eventually launched at the beginning of the
2010 season, he talked confidently of producing a ‘British winner of the Tour de France within five years’. Gasps of amazement, even ridicule, were heard around the cycling world, but
they were scared of Sky’s power. Ever since 2010, it had been clear that the man chosen to fill those intimidating shoes of destiny was Bradley Wiggins. Team Sky arrived in Liège on
the last weekend in June 2012 with the avowed aim of delivering victory for Wiggins in Paris.

The ‘nice problem to have’ was Mark Cavendish. In the interests of building their British team and thus hiring the best British riders, they had spent years courting the fastest
finisher in the sport, possibly the fastest ever finisher in the sport. The Manx rider came at a high price, but he also arrived as the World Champion, BBC Sports Personality of the Year and the
winner of twenty stages of the Tour de France. The question was: could Team Sky deliver on both fronts? Could they guide Wiggins to overall victory and simultaneously lead Cavendish to the stage
wins they had signed him for? Could they support Cav’s bid to win the points jersey while Wiggins fought for the biggest prize? Wiggo in yellow and Cav in green?

There was a precedent. In 1996, the German T-Mobile team had managed to win the race with Bjarne Riis, take second place with the emerging Jan Ullrich and the green points jersey for the speedy
Erik Zabel. Zabel had become a confidant of Cavendish in recent years, guiding the young Brit when he first entered the world of Tour de France sprinting at that same T-Mobile set-up. However,
things had been different for Cavendish at the various incarnations of the High Road/HTC/Columbia team from which he arrived at Team Sky. There, he was king of the castle. Da man. They surrounded
him with powerful
domestiques
like Bernie Eisel and race-proven sprinters in themselves like Matt Goss and Mark Renshaw whose sole purpose was to get the Manx Missile to the finish line in
the right place to do his thang. And his thang invariably involved a big grin and a victory salute. How would they cope with those demands and the need to control the race for Brad? Would they be
able to sit on the front all day to dissuade attacks, chase down escapees, keep Wiggins out of the wind, line out the bunch in the high mountains, protect a potential yellow jersey for many days on
end
and
produce a high-speed train to lead out Cavendish? It was a tall order. Perhaps Cav would revert to his early-career style of joining the trains of other sprinters’ teams as
they pounded towards the line in tight formation before popping round them cheekily to take the victory for himself? A young prodigy might get away with that for a season in his youth, but the
World Champion at the world’s biggest team would make himself few friends. And you need friends in bike racing or bad things start to happen.

Stage 1, from Liège to Seraing, would help us find out.

*

Fabian Cancellara looks good in yellow. Five prologue wins have delivered him plenty of days in the
maillot jaune
over the years, and his power on the hard roads and
fast stages of the Tour’s first week have often kept him in the front of the race until it meets the mountains. The Swiss hero loves racing in Belgium and northern France, too, as his
dominating victories in the Tour of Flanders and Paris–Roubaix have proved. His grin tops the yellow jersey with pride as the Tour rolls out
en masse
for the first time.

Bike racing has changed considerably in the last few years. In the old days, races would be packed with lengthy stages that would begin at a leisurely pace before rocketing through the final
hour at a furious speed as the sprinters’ teams vied for supremacy in the final shakedown. These days, bizarrely, the fastest hour is often the first. This is because, with stage wins at such
a premium, everybody is keen to get in ‘the break’. Not
a
break, but
the
break. The second the commissaire’s flag is withdrawn inside the red car at the front to
signify that neutralisation is over and racing can begin, riders begin firing themselves out of the bunch and haring off up the road. The peloton, filled as it is with other riders who want to be
in the break, quickly accelerates to breakneck speeds to bring them back. There are plenty of riders here who have no hope of winning the overall prize and no hope of winning sprint stages, who
will lose out in the time trials and get destroyed in the mountains. What they crave is the chance of a stage victory, getting themselves into a tasty little move, outrunning the bunch and
outfoxing their breakaway companions to taste Tour glory. They will also be doing their hard-pressed teammates a favour, as they can relax in the bosom of the bunch, safe in the knowledge that
their buddy up the road will save them from a day killing themselves at the front to bring it all back.

Liège on Stage 1 is no different to this pattern, and Cancellara’s RadioShack-Nissan team ride tempo while various hopefuls launch themselves towards Seraing. Those trying to digest
their generous breakfasts in the crowd behind are delighted when things calm down a little sooner than is often the case and the break forms. Six riders, no famous names, no danger to those with
their eye on ultimate glory. After a few moments of jousting with the sextet a handful of yards in front of them, the peloton relents and they gather themselves for a few minutes,
Cancellara’s men ensuring it doesn’t get silly and jeopardise his yellow jersey.

This morning in the Team Sky bus, Sean Yates had laid out the day’s priorities:

The first week of the Tour de France is a dangerous place to be. People fall off. Dreams are shattered. The best laid plans of mice and bike riders et cetera. When Wiggins hit the deck,
resplendent in his newly acquired GB Champion’s jersey twelve months ago, it was the death of a million hopes for British bike fans, not to mention the man himself, his team and his family.
Crashes happen, but there are things that can be done. It’s safer to ride near the front. It’s better to have your teammates around. And it’s good if it’s not raining.

If there’s a rider from Team Sky in the break, less work is required from his teammates to chase things down. It’s also an opportunity to win a stage if the move stays clear, or even
a chance to take yellow when time gaps are so narrow at this early stage in the overall competition.

Cav’s requirements become more accentuated the nearer we get to the finish. If he’s in there, he’s trusted to win. He’s the fastest man here out of the 200-odd riders
competing. If the team can bring him through, they will.

Edvald Boasson Hagen, champion of Norway, is a popular man at Team Sky. Blessed with immense strength, he has the ability to blast his way to victory on hard days. His overall hopes are hampered
by his difficulties in the high mountains, but he is a wild card, a quality accessory that any team would be glad to have. Let him go his own way.

The crashes have begun. First to hit the deck is Tony Martin, his run of bad luck continuing after a puncture robbed him of a big shout in yesterday’s prologue. He carries on with a
battered wrist, lacerated elbow and sour demeanour.

Team Sky regroup around their leader and settle in for the long haul, taking it in turns to make sorties back to Yates’s car and return with bottles. It’s a showery day, and as the
pace picks up towards the day’s
dénouement
, things become increasingly fraught. The six escapees show no desire to be caught, and though the RadioShack-Nissan-powered peloton
closes the gap to a minute with 30km left to ride, they grit their teeth and press on gamely.

The dreaded shout of ‘
Chute dans le peloton!
’ crackles Yates’s radio, and he cranes his neck round the cars and riders in front to see who has gone down. Luis Leon
Sanchez from Rabobank is hurt . . . a couple of Spanish guys . . . oh shit, a Team Sky jersey. It’s his trusted road captain, Australia’s Mick Rogers. Vastly experienced and a former
contender himself, Rogers is Yates’s eyes and ears in the bunch. He is bumped and bruised but uninjured. Yates lets out a breath he has been holding for some time and chases after the race,
now closing inexorably on the six men in front and the finish in Seraing.

Cavendish moves up under the patronage of his minder Bernie Eisel. Eisel arrived at Team Sky from HTC with Cavendish and has been at his side unstintingly for the last couple of years.

The big danger to the pure sprinters – Cavendish, Greipel, Farrar, Petacchi – is the siting of a nasty little hill within the finishing town of Seraing. It’s clear that several
riders have this in mind, and the pace reaches crazy levels as the escapees are finally gobbled up and those with aspirations push on. There is a huge roar from the crowds beneath the finish
line’s big screens as the yellow jersey himself, Spartacus, Fabian Cancellara launches a searing move with just 1,500m to go. He tears the field apart with the burst, but two men just manage
to hang on to him: powerful Slovak Peter Sagan and our own Edvald Boasson Hagen. Unable to rest lest they be reeled in by the desperate bunch, Cancellara opens the sprint, but he’s easily
overhauled by a blistering burst from Sagan who has time to pull off a dancing victory salute as he crosses the line. Edvald is third. A powerful performance but not at the level of Sagan.
Cancellara has lost the stage but retained the jersey and his famous grin.

What of Cavendish? Like the other pure sprinters, the speed and the severity of the final short climb was too much for him to be in a position to compete and he saved his finish for the
following day, rolling in among the main field in 128th place.

Wiggins, however, has had a first stage to remember. Having avoided the mishaps that have split the bunch at times, including the spill that put his captain Mick Rogers on the deck alongside
him, Bradley has stayed calm, maintained his position in the bunch and, despite not having designs on stage victory, positively flew up the last climb to take an excellent sixteenth spot on the
stage alongside his main rivals Evans and Nibali. He will look them in the eye tonight and say, ‘I’m coming for you.’