Glissante Lorsq’il Est Mouillé

 He acknowledged that he did “quite some beautiful sightseeing” during a bicycle ride in Paris. But he also complained about street conditions at the beginning and end of that ride.

I imagine that he had good reason, even though—in my experience, anyway—streets in the City of Light are in better condition than those in my hometown of New York. The rider in question, you see, wasn’t a tourist and sightseeing wasn’t the purpose of his trek.  He was pumping and spinning his way through the Olympic time trial. Oh, and less than a week ago, he finished third in the Tour de France.

R

Remco Evenepoel in the Tour de France

Remco Evenepoel lamented the poor road conditions during the first and last few kilometers of the 32.4 kilometer time trial, which began this morning near the Eiffel Tower, headed east towards the Place de la Bastille and the Polygone de Vincennes before looping back into the city and finishing at the ornate Pont Alexandre III—in the rain that has fallen almost continuously since yesterday’s opening ceremonies.

That precipitation may have made things even dicier for the mountain bike racers. Nino Schurter, who won medals in the previous two Olympics, said the gravel on the manmade course 40 kilometers outside Paris was “quite loose.” He added, “If you go fast, it’s quite slippery.”

Real Winners In Paris

Imagine this:  After bringing glory to your country, you can’t go home.

That is the dilemma Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi could face.

Actually, the two sisters haven’t been home in three years. They’ve been training in Switzerland for this year’s Paris Olympics. How they got there is exactly the reason why they can’t return their native land.

Yulduz (l) and Fariba Hashimi

In 2021, they fled the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan on an Italian evacuation flight. They were joined by, among others, three young people who would become their Olympic teammates. 

In Italy, they received proper coaching for the first time. “Back in Afghanistan, we didn’t have professional training,” says Yulduz. “All we used to do was take our bikes and ride.”

That isn’t nearly as idyllic as it sounds. Their bikes were borrowed and they trained and raced—and won—in disguise and under false names. When stories about them appeared in the local media, their parents begged them to stop. People drove rickshaws and cars, and threw stones, at them.

They were not only in one of the most restrictive countries for women and girls, they were in one of its most remote and conservative areas: Faryab province. As if that, and the lack of coaching. weren’t formidable obstacles, they were working from yet another disadvantage. Yulduz, now 24 years old and Fariba, 21 didn’t even mount a bicycle for the first time until they were 17 and 14, respectively. When they arrived in Italy, they were training with, and competing against cyclists who started pedaling not long after they learned how to walk.

Although few believe they will win a medal, I—and,

I suspect, more than a few other people—wouldn’t be too surprised if they did, given what they’ve overcome and sacrificed.

Whatever the results of their races, they will vindicate the International Olympic Committee’s maneuvering. According to IOC rules, a country must choose its team members without political interference. That, of course, wasn’t going to happen with the Taliban in power: Women aren’t allowed to do much besides bear children and keep a household, never mind compete in sports. 

The IOC talked, behind the scenes, with Afghan sports officials—some of whom live in exile—about putting together a special team to represent Afghanistan in Paris.

 For once, I applaud the wheeling and dealing of the IOC, an organization whose level of corruption rivals the UCI and FIFA. Their work work means two Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi’s presence in Paris is a victory, whatever the results of their races.

What NJS Could Have Prevented

 Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear bike, has some NJS-approved parts on it.  I have never made any effort, however, to make it or any other bike I’ve owned NJS-compliant.

Parts and bikes with the designation are approved for use in keirin, a form of track racing in Japan.  As I understand, NJS standards were created so that no racer is at an unfair advantage or disadvantage because of his equipment.  That is why NJS- approved equipment perpetuates standards from the 1970’s and ‘80’s: Frames are steel and wheels have 36 spokes.

Because bets are placed on riders, officials also want to ensure that a race isn’t decided by broken equipment. Thus, NJS standards emphasize strength and reliability.

A consequence of NJS standards is that they don’t make for putting together the lightest possible bikes.  That is why, for example, Olympic track racers don’t ride NJS equipment.

Those racers include Australian Alex Porter. He and his fellow Team Pursuit teammates were seen as possible gold medal winners in Tokyo.  That is, until he came crashing down on the track and sliding across the boards. That ended Australia’s qualifying run after a minute. The team was able to make a second attempt, in which they finished fifth.  Now they have a difficult task ahead of them if they are to contend for even a bronze medal.

What sent Porter, and his team’s hopes, crashing down?  A broken handlebar. 

He was riding an Argon 18 bike. Argon VP Martin Faubert said, “While Argon 18 has designed a handlebar for the bike, and provided that bar to the team, it was not our bar in use during the incident.”

Somehow I think NJS standards also preclude statements like that from executives of Sugino, MKS and other companies that make equipment for Kerin.

Why Should Cyclists Care About The FIFA Scandal?

In a previous post, I mentioned that the worlds of cycling and what most of the world calls “football” (but most Americans call “soccer”) are so close but never quite meet.  Some of the world’s most cycling-intensive nations also happen to be football powerhouses and some countries in the Americas are emerging in both.  (The US has elite athletes and teams in both sports but, on the whole, isn’t quite on the level of, say, Belgium, Italy, Spain, France or England in either one.)  I got to thinking about the relationship between the two sports again in light of FIFA’s current troubles.

Although I'm not as avid about them as I once was, I still love sports.  I have competed in three (wrestling, soccer and, of course, cycling) and have been a cyclist in one form or another for most of my life.  I even wrote about sports for a small local newspaper.  To this day, some of the things of which I’m most proud are things I’ve done in athletic pursuits. 

I must also point out that I have never participated in any athletic endeavor for money.  That doesn’t make me more virtuous or prove my love of sports or much of anything else.  However, I also realize that having always been an amateur—and having participated in sports that, at the times I was involved with them, offered few opportunities for scholarships, let alone professional careers—I never had an incentive to cheat.  Nor did most of those I competed with and against.  Likewise, my coaches and others involved in officiating contests or administering programs in which I was involved were not tempted by the prospect of payoffs or bribes of one kind or another.

That perspective—and my experience writing about sports—helped me to understand that when money, especially large sums of it, are involved, the attitude of everyone involved with sport changes.  It’s almost trite to say that money corrupts, and large sums corrupt in major ways.  To be more exact, the prospect of a large payoff exposes avarice that might lay dormant in the absence of lucre.

What I find ironic is that nearly every fan of any professional sport acknowledges that corruption exists, at whatever level, but he or she is almost invariably shocked when that corruption is exposed.  For all the whispers that Lance Armstrong, the Festina team and any number of other riders and teams were doping, when that doping was exposed or confessed, fans expressed a sense of betrayal.  Likewise, nearly every soccer/football fan believes that the sport’s officials and governing bodies are corrupt. (Most people also have the same sense about Olympic organizations.)  But some still said the equivalent of “no…really” when Sepp Blatter and others were implicated in various kinds of graft related to the awarding of the World Cup to the countries that hosted the tournament.

 

One interesting difference I’ve noticed between cycling and football/soccer is that in cycling, the investigations, accusations and crackdowns have focused on individual cyclists and teams, while in football, prosecutors’ sights have been set on the governing bodies and top-level officials.  Of course, one reason for that is that the scandals in cycling have had mainly to do with doping, or allegations thereof, while those in football have had to do with kickbacks and awarding tournaments to countries. 

Why has relatively little attention been paid to cycling’s governing bodies?  Surely, their officials must have known about doping, or the rumors of it.  It’s also hard not to imagine that in the administration of cycling, there are money scandals and nepotism similar to what is found in FIFA and football’s governing bodies in individual countries.  I mean, if corrupt officials can take bribes to allow Russia or Qatar or some other country to host the World Cup, it’s hard not to believe that similar (though smaller-scale) deals are made so that cities can host stages of multi-day races or for facilities to be built for cycling.  Likewise, if cyclists are doping and their teams and sponsors are pressuring them to do so, who’s to say that something similar isn’t happening in football?  After all, as in cycling, the world’s best athletes are competing in it, and the difference between victory or relegation could be laid to something as seemingly trivial as whether a key performer drank one glass too many or too few of water on the day of the competition.

And, as I have mentioned, there is a lot of money riding on the siting as well as the outcomes of competitions in both sports.  The incentives exist for cheating and corruption, and are so similar in so many ways in cycling and football.  But, in that regard, as in so many other aspects, the worlds of the two sports are so close but somehow manage not to meet. 

A New Olympic Cycling Event: The Omnium

During the past week or so, I haven't posted much.  One reason is that I've been watching the Olympics.

For some reason, I'm more interested in them this year than I was the last time around (2008) or the time before that (2004).  It may have to do with my having spent some time in London and knowing  of some of the venues in which the Games are being held, as well as other landmarks.  It may also have to do with the fact that I've been home, whereas during the previous two Olympiads, I was away:  visiting old friends in France in 2004 and my parents in Florida (for the first time since I began my transition) in 2008. So, I guess, you could say I was occupied.

While I'm always glad to see cycling, I wish there were more coverage of it.  I guess the networks figured that there would be more interest in the road and track races and the time trial than in some of the other events.  I'm sure that a lot of casual cycling fans wanted to see the time trial because it was contested by, among others, Bradley Wiggins--whose victory in the Tour de France a week earlier was the first by a British rider--and his countryman and teammate/rival Christopher Froome.  And, a lot of Americans probably tuned into the road race because they thought Kristin Armstrong, who won a gold medal, was Lance's ex.

One event that seems to get almost no attention outside of the Olympics--and is unknown to nearly all Americans--is the omnium, in which Lasse Hansen of Denmark won the gold medal today.  (French cyclist Bryan Coquard won the silver and Britain's Edward Clancy took the bronze.)  One could think of it as the hepathlon of cycling, except that, instead of seven events, it has six:

• A flying lap--This is a race against the clock.
• Points race--Cyclists score points for sprints that occur every 10 laps.
• Elimination--This race includes an intermediate sprint every two laps; the last rider is eliminated after each sprint.  Think of it as a kind of Musical Chairs for cyclists.
• Individual Pursuit--Riders start at opposite sides of the track and race against the clock. (4000m for men, 3000m for women)
• Scratch Race--This is a straightforward race to the finish line: 16km for men, 10 km for women.
• Time trial--Each competitor rides the course, aiming for the fastest time.  (1km for men, 500 m for women)

Now, I can understand why most Americans have never heard of it:  It's a new sport in the Olympics and was added to the World Championships Program only five years ago.

It will be interesting to see whether the omnium will be part of future Olympiads.  Even bronze medal winner Clancy says that although it's "great entertainment" and was good for him personally, he feels that winning depends on luck more than it does for other events.  "I don't know whether this fits in with the 'higher, stronger, faster' ethos of the Olympics," he explained.

He may be right about the role luck plays in it.  Then again, the same could be said for nearly all sporting events:  How many winners and runners-up were decided by injuries, illnesses or even weather conditions? Or how many times have people gotten jobs, promotions and even the loves of their lives simply because they were--sometimes unwittingly--"in the right place at the right time?"  Heck, even my students' grades have been determined by factors beyond their--or my--control.