Last Saturday at 4.45 pm a tired, nervous, frustrated and sunburnt miss Fede was in her hotel room in a Spanish village, desperately looking for the local sportschannel on tv. Tiredness was a consequence of the long travel of the day before and of the noise made during the night by the Spanish seagulls (they are the worst creatures on Earth after Italian pigeons) and by the boys who went partying at 3 am and who thought it would have been nice to scream in the hotel's corridors at that time of the night, thus causing me to wake up many, many times. Frustration instead was caused by the fact that I was in a foreign country (which wasn't France) when the Tour was still up and running. Moreover, the weather sucked. As far as the 'sunburnt' bit is concerned, then, I have to admit that on our first day of holiday my friends and I were so shocked by the cloudy and windy weather that we decided not to bring our sunshades to the beach. As a consequence, on that afternoon I was looking like a giant lobster waiting to be served on a restaurant table together with some salad or soup. Nervousness instead derived from another fact: the Tour de France's time trial in Grenoble, which had already started and which was going to decide the eventual outcome of the 2011 Grande Boucle.
The day of my departure, I spent the whole afternoon screaming at my tv screen. After his deed on Galibier, I thought that Andy Schleck had a big chance of winning the Tour, but at the same time I feared that the efforts that led him to his historical victory on Galibiér would have made him more vulnerable during the Alpe d'Huez stage. Ah, Alpe d'Huez! The Queen of the Tour was waiting for the riders, with its amount of colours, cycling lovers and people who go there just because they want to be insulted by the true cycling followers (seriously, I believe that at least half of the people who go up to Alpe d'Huez are more interested in showing themselves off than in watching the race!!). Before meeting Her Majesty, however, the riders had to face Telegraphé and Galibier (for the second time in two days, poor things!) and, given the toughness of the parcours, every rider knew that this stage was going to shatter someone's dreams of victory and to reward someone else.
A group of breakawayers tried to look for glory (and for safety from the time cut) since the beginning of the day but, with 90 kms to go, everyone understood that the big names of the peloton wanted to smash the race. 'It's now or never', Contador probably thought as he attacked with 90 kms to go, after just 14 kms of race. The Spaniard was followed by Voeckler, Evans and Andy Schleck and they soon rode past the breakaway rider. Then, all of a sudden, Thomas got dropped (*chorus of 'Noooooooo!' coming from France*) and Evans had a mechanical problem. Once again, Andy the Luxembourgian and Alberto the Spaniard found themselves alone, at the head of the Tour.
As my respect for Contador grew bigger and bigger after his attack, my hope for a Luxembourgian victory in Paris became stronger and stronger. As soon as Evans and Voeckler got dropped, my brain stopped reasoning in a rational way and I let the Fangirl in me completely free. I was shouting at the tv, supporting Voeckler, screaming 'Drop him, drop him, YOU MUST DROP HIM TO WIN THIS F****** BIKE RACE!!!' as Evans (with a little help from Casar and Danielson) joined Contador and Schleck after the Galibier descent, and I was rejoicing when I saw Pierre Rolland winning the stage. Shortly afterwards I was overwhelmed with feelings when I saw Voeckler wearing his green Europcar jersey again and I was proud of Andy Schleck's yellow jersey - although, unfortunately, I had to skip the podium ceremony because I had to go the airport. Talking about airports: I landed in Girona which, by chance, is the city where a Russian cyclist that I stalked during the Giro lives. Luckily I didn't meet him, otherwise I'm afraid he would have had me arrested for stalking.
Anyway, back to the TT in Grenoble and to my hot hotel room in Spain. As my friends went out of the room in order to enjoy another hour of fun (and wind and cold) on the beach, I started suffering in front of that little television. I managed to find the right channel after two tries and, surprisingly, I could understand everything the chronists said. Moreover, I could also understand what Samu Sanchez and Contador (whose interviews with Spanish tv were really long) said. Unfortunately I was too nervous to rejoice for my achievements in the knowledge of the Spanish language because I knew that, in a few minutes time, the 2011 TdF winner would have been chosen.
As Cadel and Andy started their TT, I began to pray for a Luxembourgian victory. Unfortunately my prayers didn't work, since after a few kms it became clear that Evans was going to win the first Tour of his career by doing what he hadn't managed to do in 2007 and 2008: the time trial of his life.
As I saw Andy's jersey become less and less yellow, I susprisingly didn't feel anything. It was a surreal situation and (also because of the tiredness), I felt as if I couldn't realise what was happening. I thought (and hoped) I was dreaming. On the previous day I didn't have the time to reflect seriously on Andy's chances of keeping the yellow jersey and, as Evans took the overall victory, Schleck's yellow jersey soon started to look like a mirage to me. Did he really get it after Alpe d'Huez? Are we sure? Seriously, I was in a kind of trance. A trance that ended as soon as Andy crossed the finish-line, thus releasing his feelings.
I was overwhelmed with emotions too as I watched the lanky Luxembourgian sending the tv cameras away from him and hiding his head on his brother' shouder. In that moment, to me Andy stopped being a cyclist and he went back to being just a boy. And, in that moment, I understood what the Tour is for those guys. Evans the Aussie (aporpos, why does he remind me of a crocodile?) was rejoicing because, after all those years, he finally managed to take that cursed Tour victory; Andy Schleck looked very down because, after grazing the Tour victory for the third time in a row, he lost the race once again, thus becoming the first rider ever to nail three second placements in a row on the Champs Elysées podium; Frank Schleck, on the other hand, was sad because his brother had lost but, at the same time, he was happy for his 3rd place; Thomas Voeckler, instead, was probably cursing himself for the seconds he lost in the descent towards Pinerolo and for having gone à bloc too early in the Alpe d'Huez stage.
As the Spanish chronists started to remember what happened in the different stages of this year Tour, I switched off the tv. I didn't want to hear useless talks about the eventual outcome of the race because, after all, those talks couldn't change anything.
After the stage, my father phoned me to know how I was doing (he probably expected me to jump off the window for the disappointment :P). And, together, we talked about who really deserved to win this Tour. On the one hand, we agreed that Evans was great in the first week of race and on the Galibier; on the other hand, however, we said that Andy was superb in the Alps and that he was the strongest climber of the race, the one who made the race exciting in the last days.
In the end, dad and I agreed that Andy was probably stronger than Cadel in the climbs, but we also agreed that the Aussie didn't deserve to lose another Tour. Andy is younger than Cadel and he still has a lot of time to win this race. Whereas Evans is already 34, in fact, Schleck is just 26 - he's not the young puppy who was 2nd in the Giro 2007 anymore, ok, but let's remember that a guy like Basso won his first GT at 29 and that OGL has already won Liége and has the most impressive collections of second placements of Cycledom. He still has a lot to learn and a lot of time to race, so he must take things day by day.
Talking about the Tour raced by And, some may not be satisfied by his second placement. But still, I think there are two ways to look at this year TdF podium: the 'romantic' way and the cold-minded way.
Those who like a bit of romanticism will be happy with this year's podium. First Cadel Evans, who last year lost the chance of winning the Tour and the Vuelta because of facts not depending on his will. Second and third, two brothers, Andy and Frank. Andy, the rough diamond of cycling, still has to shine on the top spot of a GT podium, but I'm sure that one day he will. As far as Frank is concerned, I think that last Sunday he had one of the best days of his whole life. Standing on the podium with his brother and his super-cute daughter must have been amazing for him and now this podium will surely make him aim higher as far as the next GTs are concerned. The boy is shadowed by Andy's talent, but he's one of the best riders of the world too.
If, instead, you decide to watch this year's podium from a technical, cold-minded point of view, well, perhaps you'll think that Andy Schleck can't be satisfied with his second place, because this year he was the strongest climber and he made a mistake when he didn't attack in the Pyrenées. But still, being angry at And now really makes no sense: the boy has showed us once again that he has everything it takes to become a champion and, sooner or later, his day will come. He has the personality and the braveness of a champion, he just needs to improve from the tactical point of view, to learn to calm down before speaking to the press and to race more in order to be more loved not just by the supporters, but also by the press (apropos, French journalists call him 'Andyfferent' -.-"). Hopefully already in the next weeks we'll see him getting good results together with Frank, who yesterday got a very good 6th place in San Sebastian.
Oh, a last thing to say about Andy and the cycling press/supporters: some may now start to call him a loser, but don't forget that Evans had that very same nickname until 2009. Then, he won the Worlds Championships and he won the Tour. Wow!
As far as the podium scenes are concerned, I've recently seen them on YouTube (I decided not to watch the last stage) and I think that the cutest moment was when Frank brought his daughter Leea on the podium. Seriouly, the girl is as classy as Alan Gilbert!
As far as the podium scenes are concerned, I've recently seen them on YouTube (I decided not to watch the last stage) and I think that the cutest moment was when Frank brought his daughter Leea on the podium. Seriouly, the girl is as classy as Alan Gilbert!
Moreover, I'm glad to see that the awful prizes that were given every year to the 2nd and to the 3rd riders of the GC have finally changed. In fact, the two plates of glass have been replaced by two little bicycles, which look a bit better and which definitely look like trophies.
Unfortunately I haven't seen any pics from the post-Tour parties yet (actually, I didn't even look for them), so I can't say anything frivolous about fashion and things like that.
So. This year Tour has been stressful, long and full of emotions (from desperation and shock to admiration and joy, passing through fear, hope and disappointment), but I really enjoyed it. I often got angry at Andy Schleck but, in the end, I was super proud of him and I also changed some of my harsh opinions about him. However, Andy, would you be so kind to take part in more races next year? People love you, they can't wait until the Ardennes Classics to see you racing so well once again!!
(pic by Bettini)






