Armchair cycling pundits

It’s easy to be a reality armchair  cycling pundit ‘Why don’t you attack?’ Why don’t you ride faster? – these are all ideas that can easily come from the comfort of your sitting room.

Yesterday, the tours stage was run at an average of over 47 km/h. That’s 47 km/h for 217 km. Usually, that kind of stage would be run at 41-42 km/h, with nothing really happening until the last 5 km, where you have a predictable surge in pace, inevitable crash and sprint. It’s a good spectacle for 10 minutes, but it’s pretty weak reason for giving up three hours of work / training / doing something useful. I’m sure I’m not the only one to feel guilty for thinking on those July afternoons during the tour -  ‘surely I could be doing something more productive than listen to Carlton Kirby’s description of his previous evening’s meal.’ So you learn to try and pick your stages. Leave the flat boring sprints, save your time for the mountains.

Yet, like every other cycling pundit, I got it wrong and yesterday’s stage was anything but boring. Crazy splits and the biggest shake up in GC since the first mountain stage.

I first flicked the TV on to find Valverde had been dropped. The misfortune of a badly timed puncture. Perhaps he will regret not just jumping on another team mates bike rather than change wheel. But, then I wouldn’t want to race 150km on an ill fitting bike.

I managed to turn off TV and go and do something productive (actually an afternoon nap, but it’s a kind of productivity in it’s own way).

I came back with 20-30 km to go. Almost immediately I saw an unexpected split as Saxo Tinkoff rode on the front. In the distance I saw an uncertain Froome wondering what to do. The obvious thing to try was sprint on to the back of the echelon. But, a break like this would never stay away – surely, the peleton will catch and bring it back together? Looking behind him for team mates, Sky riders seem a little thin on the ground. Saxo seemed to be 100% committed with great self-belief. Over the next 20km, they were somehow able to put over one minute into a much bigger pack. By contrast, the bigger peleton lacked the same 100% drive and energy. There was a steady stream of flotsam and jetsam dropping off the back – it’s not often so many riders get dropped on the flat. It brought to mind an ill Wiggins dropping off on a flat stage in the Giro.

I suppose I’m rooting for Froome and Team Sky in this years tour. I’m not a great fan of Contador, but I like to see an animated cycle race, and from a spectator’s point of view – it was great stuff. You had to admire Saxo Tinkoff’s commitment to attack. It was also great to see Cavendish squeeze his way onto that lead group. Cavendish certainly knows how to experience the highs and lows of life. This was one of those highs; after winning an epic stage, a beaming Cavendish looking as happy as a seven year old boy finding a ton of presents in his stocking from Santa Claus. It was Cavendish’s 25 Tour victory, but it must rank as one of his greatest – more like a great one day classic stage win, than routine tour sprint.

On Sunday, I saw a film about Cavendish – Born to race - you can still see it on ITV player. (try getting a UK IP if overseas). It definitely highlighted the good side of Cavendish, and was really good to watch. The guy certainly has something special. He might have a capacity to generate controversy. But, if you see the film, you can’t help but root for the guy.

It was also interesting what Cavendish said about echelons

“It’s incredible to be able to win that. Echelons are like falling through ice, you have five seconds to make it or it’s all over.

So that’s the armchair pundits piece of advice. Team Sky should go on winter training camp in Norway and practise getting out of icey waters in 5 seconds or alternatively just learn to sprint on to the back of echelons.

But, trust me it’s much easier to say sprint on to every echelon when you haven’t already been racing for 10 days and racing for four hours at 47 km/h….