There’s a pattern that runs throughout my sporting heroes. The
all-time greats don’t really do it for me. Messi and Ronaldo? You can keep ‘em.
Usain Bolt? An incomprehensible talent, but not for me. I’ve only warmed to
Roger Federer since he got old.
No, flawed geniuses and nearly men are my deal. They tread
tantalisingly close to greatness and mainstream recognition, but there is
always something that holds them back. Tom Huddlestone – yes, I know, I never
stop cheerleading – is one, with his best-in-class passing accuracy and scud
missile shot tempered by a lack of bite and on-pitch authority. I revel in the
English middle class disdain for Andy Murray and his teenagerish sulks, and his
record-equalling consecutive Grand Slam final defeats. It’s not that I don’t
want Murray to win, you understand, it’s that his shortcomings endear him to
me.
The same goes for Andy Schleck, a cyclist from Luxembourg who
kiiiinda won the Tour de France in 2010. He possesses an exasperating talent, one undone
by a few glaring deficiencies, but over the course of his career did more than
anyone to breathe life back into cycling in the post-Armstrong era.
To win a Grand Tour you need four key attributes. You have
to be a) good at time trialling, b) good at climbing c) good at avoiding
mishaps and d) not on drugs. Andy Schleck was only every really good at b),
climbing, and despite some speculation, d). Every year he’d lose an
unrecoverable amount of time in the time trials to Alberto Contador or Cadel
Evans (and, well, mostly every decent rider in the peloton) and still manage to
come second. It’d be like if Federer was only able to play backhand but reached
the final of Wimbledon all the same. As for some perspective on the mishaps
thing: one of Schleck’s iconic moments is his chain coming off moments into a
potentially Tour-winning attack. He fell off a lot, too, crashing out of the
Tour in 2012 and 2014.
It was the crash this year, and the resulting damage
suffered to his knee, that forced him to announce his retirement from the sport
last week. Schleck is 29 years old, an age where most Grand Tour contenders are
nearing their peak, and his career is finished.
But in fact, even at 29, it has been some years since he
made any waves on the professional circuit. A series of heavy crashes, terrible
performances and continual abandonments (fuelled by speculation of growing
alcoholism) from around the end of 2011 scuppered his reputation in the peloton
as a contender. Schleck’s inability to finish a race became a joke in the
cycling community; it reached the point that some smart-alec set up a website
counting the days since he last finished a race. "SchleckChute" became a thing. The crash
that irreparably damaged his knee was sustained on the outskirts of Cambridge
by some troglodyte attempting to take a selfie. That video is hard viewing for
me. It was not the end he deserved.
*
July 21, 2011. Stage 18. Col d’Izoard.
Sixty kilometres from the finish, Andy Schleck attacks.
No one bothers responding. Who attacks from 60km out? No
one. It just doesn’t happen. Cadel Evans and Alberto Contador watch Schleck
ride off into the distance, and do nothing. Group breakaways rarely survive; one-man
breakaways never do. Minutes tick by; Schleck’s out of sight, and the gap
increases.
Two of Schleck’s teammates – Joost Posthuma and Maxime Montfort
– had strategically positioned themselves in the day’s doomed breakaway, for the
sole purpose of serving as human battery packs once Schleck makes contact. He catches
Posthuma ahead of schedule, two kilometres from the top of the penultimate
climb, and finds him too worn-out to be of much use. He can offer Schleck a few
moments respite from the wind, but nothing more. Schleck pedals on. The gap
stretches to two minutes.
 |
| Schleck and a big Alp. Not pictured: e'rebody else |
He catches up with Monfort just over the crest of the
mountain, and Monfort guides him down the winding Alpine roads where they join
up with the survivors of the breakaway. By the foot of the final climb, the gap
to Contador and Evans has stretched to a full four minutes. With eighteen
kilometres to go Monfort cracks, Nicholas Roche cracks, and Maxim Iglinsky
cracks; Andy Schleck, now riding alone, stretches his lead to beyond four
minutes. The stage win looks all but certain, but what of the time gaps? He
needs two minutes twenty one seconds to take yellow from Thomas Voeckler, the
tiny, gutsy Frenchman, and as much as possible over Cadel Evans.
The road up the Col du Galibier is one of the highest
mountain passes in Europe, but this was the first time its peak was also the
stage finish, setting a record for the highest ever stage finish. It has a
formidable reputation, even amongst the Alpine giants. The climb is 18.1km
long, peaks at 2645m, and the average gradient is 6.1%. The air is thin.
Cadel Evans, now realising the terrible blunder he has made,
begins to huff up the mountain in dogged pursuit. This was it – like Schleck,
Evans had a reputation as a nearly man himself, with second place finishes in
2007 and 2008 – the last stab either would get at winning the Tour. Evans,
unaided by teammates and fueled by desperation, lays waste to the group, dropping Contador and Samuel
Sanchez.
 |
| Cadel Evans on the warpath |
Up the road, Schleck is on his last legs, and the gap begins
to close.
*
For years, Lance Armstrong was the Hollywood blockbuster in
the art-house cycling world. Putting the drugs calamity that followed aside for
a moment, Lance was understandably a huge public draw: with the cancer thing,
the swagger, the jawline, and let’s face it, the incredible ability on a bike,
Lance Armstrong was Mr Tour de France. He retired in 2005 after a preposterous seven consecutive victories, and left a
power vacuum behind. Literally every other rider in the peloton was part of the
chasing pack, even the really good ones like Ullrich, Vinokourov, Menchov and
Kloden. Cycling needed new blood (no Dr. Ferrari, not that sort of new blood) and some new leading men.
It didn’t take long. After a crap 2006 in which another
brash American claimed yellow before subsequently being stripped of the title for
doping offences, Contador won in fine style in 2007. Two months prior, a 22-year-old
Andy Schleck announced himself to the cycling world by coming second in the
Giro d’Italia. He was perhaps the outstanding rider at the 2008 Tour, working
in support of his older brother, Frank Schleck, and Carlos Sastre, the Spaniard who won the race with an
outstanding attack on Alpe d’Huez.
By the time Contador and Schleck came together at the Tour in 2009, they
were the top two Grand Tour riders in the world. They would only race three
times in the Tour, but in my mind it became one of the great rivalries in
sport.
In truth, Contador clobbered Schleck in 2009, as he did
everyone, including Armstrong (making a respectable comeback) and Britain’s
very own Bradley Wiggins, who surprised everyone by coming fourth. Contador was
impervious, winning by 4’11” with an Armstrong-esque all-round superiority.
Schleck beat Contador on the key stage up Mont Ventoux, but it was a token
victory: Contador had won the Tour and could afford to let his rival cross the
line first.
Contador won again the following year, but this time it was
closer. Much closer. Schleck put time into Contador early on following a crash,
and by stage 9 was in yellow. The race came to a peak on stage 15. The pair
never took their eyes off each other on the climbs, and played out a game of
cat and mouse. Schleck refused to allow Contador to take his wheel for fear of
being attacked from behind, and the two came to a virtual standstill, mimicking the track stand technique used by Chris Hoy and the track sprinters. That the rest of the field was barrelling up the mountain was of no concern to them; both knew that they were untouchable by the rest of the field, and that the race was theirs and theirs alone. It was a small moment, but a telling one.
Then the spark. Near the top of the Port de Bales, after which came a fast
and short descent to the finish, Schleck caught Contador napping and attacked. Almost immediately, his chain came off,
Contador counterattacked, and by the time the stage was over Schleck had lost
39 seconds, and the yellow jersey.
One of the most famous photos from the history of the Tour
de France depicts eternal rivals Jacques Anquetil -- the five-time winner -- and
Raymond Poulidor -- Anquetil’s shadow -- locked shoulder-to-shoulder, battling up a
climb. Usually in such a situation one would be behind the other in order to take advantage of the slipstream effect; the bullishness and pride of both men triggered a one-on-one confrontation. Slipstream be damned, no hiding, this is a test of strength. It was pure ego. A fistfight on two wheels.
 |
| Jacques Anquetil (left) and Raymond Poulidor, 1964 |
Poulidor would win the stage; Anquetil the race.
Schleck and Contador
re-staged the duel on the slopes of the Tourmalet. The result was the same as in 1964: Schleck, as did Poulidor, won the stage; Contador the
race. They rode away from the bunch with ease, and battled up the mountain. Schleck attacked, again and again, but with each move Contador countered. Then Contador went, but just as it looked like Schleck would snap, he clawed his way back to Contador's wheel. A late lunge for the line won Schleck the stage,
but the celebratory fist-pump was muted. It wasn’t enough.
 |
| Shoulder-to-shoulder up the Tourmalet |
Then the footnote. Remember quality d) from earlier, about
the importance of not being on drugs? Well, it turned out to be Contador’s
biggest flaw, and after testing positive for clenbuterol he was stripped of his
wins from 2010 to 2012. Schleck became the 2010 Tour de France
champion in the most unsatisfying way possible: by default. It was the outcome no one wanted.
*
It was one of the truly great stage wins Tour history
– all 102 editions of it. By the time a wobbling Andy had crossed the line (pictured in the header photo),
Cadel Evans was only able to claw back half of the four minute deficit. But despite the impressive margin of victory, it still wouldn't be enough. Schleck didn’t even take the yellow jersey – an incredible
ride by the un-fancied Voeckler saw him retain it by just 15 seconds, but he did
end up wearing yellow after dropping Voeckler up Alpe d’Huez the following day.
Evans was fantastic over the penultimate day’s time trial, turning the 57”
deficit into a 1’34” victory. The only consolation was being joined by his
brother, Frank, on the podium.
Cycling has changed over the years. An increase in
professionalism and a cleaner peloton has reduced time gaps significantly. Mountain-top
finishes – where the make-or-break moments in the Grand Tours usually play out
– have become tighter, cagier affairs, with attacks from near the top to claim
a handful of seconds becoming the norm.
Thus, Andy Schleck’s lone assault of the Galibier was
something of a throwback. In some ways his entire career was a throwback, in fact. Pure climbers capable of challenging for yellow are a thing of the past: you have to look way back to the likes of Luis Ocana and Schleck's compatriot, the enigmatic Charly Gaul, before you find such figures again.
The win on the Galibier was it for Andy Schleck. He had no
further success on a bike. But in fairness, when you’ve just won the greatest stage on the highest
peak the venerable old race has ever taken in, where else is there to go but down?
Sources:
http://www.sbs.com.au/cyclingcentral/news/56988/19-things-we-ll-never-forget-about-andy-schleck-if-he-retires
steephill.tv/reuters
http://totallycoolpix.com/2011/07/tour-de-france-2011-3rd-week-highlights/ (some really great photos in this selection)
http://www.bikeatelier.pl/dokumenty/aktualnosci/tour-de-bike-atelier-g-19628
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