PRO starts young

I was 11 when I rode across town to my first bike race. By my second or third start I had won my first race, but to me a win on handicap was not the real thing.

Felix is 13 and got to start his cycling career in Italy. Three seasons later he has one win to his palmares.

Racing in Italy, he will never understand the tactics of riding as a scratch rider in a handicap race on a bleak and wind swept Wellington day. Instead he will understand the dynamic of riding in the group with 60 to 100 other 13 year olds. Felix will have a baptism by fire in comparison. He will not thumb through magazines to get a glimpse of the sport at its pinnacle and lie in bed at night dreaming of the greatest bike races on earth.

At 13 I dreamed of the Classic's, the Grand Tours and the stars. At 13 he has been fortunate enough to stand on top of the Poggio as the Milan San Remo passed, watch stages of the Giro d'Italia, see Cadel Evans snap the legs off the field and ride away to win the World Championships. Six day racing, World Cup Cyclo Cross, at 13 he's seen much I dreamed of.

He understands PRO, how to look on the start line. That his handle bar tape must be clean and color co ordinated with his bike, that his sock height must be just right, and that greasy chain ring marks on his calves are definitely not PRO. He understands that there are bike riders and then there are bike riders, its more than just pedaling, it's how you pedal.

On Sundays he climbs into his team van at the front gate and goes one way, and I the other way to my own race. I hope that he has a great day, snaps some legs and comes home satisfied. I hope his satisfaction will evolve into a love for the bike race, a love born from the purity of the sport, the highs and the lows, the days of good legs and bad legs, of great races and great moments, that he experiences and sees it through his own eyes, and not through the eyes of his father.

Seeing him start to look PRO in his own adolescent way makes me green with envy. He knows Zipps from Lightweights, Schleck from Contador and can spot PRO at a glance. Maybe like many young riders he will find the commitment cycling requires too hard and decide to chase girls instead. After all, who would blame him for that, especially growing up around Italian girls? Or perhaps he will go somewhere with the sport.

Nevertheless I wish my start came with the opportunities that he considers to be the norm, and at 13 I understood PRO.

Why Italia produces World Champions

My fascination with this subject began many years ago.

At 11 years of age, I would thumb through copies of International Cycle Sport, the glossy English magazine that had more attraction than a Playboy magazine in those days.

The centre fold would inevitably be of the current Italian superstar resplendent in his Rainbow jersey as Champion of the World.

In 1982 after crashing and then pulling out of the amateur road race at the World Championships in Goodwood, England, I watched Beppe Sarroni storm up the final climb that was my demise, to become World Champion and pull on the converted Rainbow jersey that he would wear all year. What’s worse, he made it look so easy and for the following season, he rode through the peloton looking like he was wearing Armani.

The Cricket, Paolo Bettini, back to back wins, back to back wins, can you imagine how difficult that must be. Sure Armstrong won 7 tours in a row, but he had a month of racing to get it right before crossing the finish line in Paris, Paulo had just 7 odd hours to perfect his trade and he has managed it twice.

Now I’m 45 and Felix is 11. He’s not so keen on Bettini, thinks that Tornado Tom Boonen looked better in the Rainbow jersey, but he now has his chance in the Italian sun.

His new Celeste Bianchi, and white Sidi shoes have pride of place in his bedroom, his racing licence is authentic, issued by the Italian Federation and the Cremasco Squadra have his training schedule mapped out.

Tuesday evening, we rode down to the industrial zone for his debut training session, arriving a little after starting time.

The perfect evening, 34 degrees, and not a breath of wind, the only noise was the buzz of a motor scooter coming down the road towards us, and sitting comfortably in its draft were 15 odd budding Bettini’s aged 9 to 13, all lapping it out behind the scooter, round and round the block. Unfortunately the scooter was too fast for the other 15, who were aged from 5 years up, and they sat behind an older rider, round and round the industrial estate each pedal revolution inching them closer to the rainbow jersey and the centre pages of International Cycle Sport.

The commitment to the development of young riders in Italy should be closely watched by many developing cycling nations. New Zealand’s national team often get a big slice of the sporting funds, come grants time, but what is being done to foster young talent.

Crema population 35,000 has a major youth development programme, and each weekend there is a race on with up to 100 starters in all grades in the greater region. The lyrca is all brand new and ablaze with sponsors names, as the club supplies the total package including helmet and shoes.

Should you want it, the bike is also available free of charge. My sponsor, back in the International Cycle Sport days were poor Antonio and Helen, and every punctured tubular bought tears to their eyes I’m sure, not mention the smashed wheels and frames.

I got Felix settled in behind the scooter and a lap later he had that grin so big that he should have been standing in the top step of the podium, arms held high wearing the Rainbow jersey.

After 15 years of marriage, Nicky thought her days of hearing about, dropping him, attacking him, big ring this, Bora wheels that, were coming to an end, but now Felix rides through the door Tuesday and Thursday nights with a new vocabulary derived from the language of a generation of future World Champions.

Its little wonder Paolo managed the double.

Slim.