the twenty-year-old Sydney bronze medallist Bradley Wiggins, was joining.
It seemed like the ideal move for Wiggins. An English-speaking team would integrate him into European cycling more gently than the established Euro powerhouses. This was an exciting new squad
who were sweeping away preconceptions about ‘old school’ cycling and made a big deal about being clean and drug free, one where friendly faces like Matt Stephens and Russell Downing
would be. The Tour de France was just a few more eye-catching rides away for the new squad, perhaps even in 2001.
The money was right, and Bradley was assisted by his old friend and sometime manager Richard Allchin in settling the deal. Hands were shaken. Cars were loaded. Brad drove himself down to the
team’s new base in Toulouse and began to pin up posters of
The Italian Job
, The Who and Muhammad Ali around his rather pokey little billet in Colomiers. However, it proved to be a
miserable month. The bulk of the team were in Australia riding the team’s first race of the year, the Tour Down Under, and there was nothing much for the twenty-year-old to do other than ride
his bike. Christmas Day 2000 in Haute-Garonne was warm and sunny with the peaks of the distant Pyrenees pricking the blue horizon. But by mid-January, a familiar soggy fog had settled over the
sweetcorn fields that took the more enthusiastic rider out beyond the Forêt de Bouconne and the sleepy villages of Gers. It was a bedraggled and solitary Wiggins who arrived in Bagshot for
the new-look squad’s unofficial unveiling.
There was considerable excitement after McKenzie won the final stage of the Tour Down Under in a sweltering Melbourne; however, it quickly evaporated. The launch and the whole concept of the
team was a complete fiasco. The riders and staff numbered about 30, and they sat bewildered in a back room at the Cricketers Hotel on the A30 at Bagshot to be told by a frowning Sean Yates and Max
Sciandri that they had discovered there was no deal with Jaguar, no deal with Jacob’s Creek and the Linda McCartney money for 2001 had already been spent. Of Julian Clark, there was no
sign.
Yates and Sciandri battled to save the team, trying to raise more funds and trying to organise the team on a reduced budget, but it was clear by the end of that awful day that there wasn’t
a budget shortfall, there was no budget. No money at all.
The riders drifted away in a sense of shock. Some had the good sense to hang on to the beautiful new Principia bikes they’d been given. Sciandri, picking up a ride on the Lampre squad,
even rode his in the first Belgian classic, Het Volk, a couple of weeks later. The rest were left to seek their own fortune.
Bradley wasn’t as devastated as some. For a start, he was within riding distance of home, unlike the Australian, Colombian, Czech and Spanish recruits. He was young, he was an Olympic
medallist, and something would turn up. What turned up were the willing open arms of Team GB. In a brilliant move, they immediately put him back on the elite performance plan and reinstated his
salary. He had given his country a medal and they’d not forgotten him.
Welcome home, Brad.
STAGE 5:
Rouen–Saint Quentin, 196.5km
Thursday, 5 July 2012
It’s not exactly the infamous clear-the-air meeting during which sporting teams have to sort out their differences, but Team Sky do have a discussion about tactics before
Stage 5 of the Tour de France. Another flat, fast stage designed for the sprinters spells more danger in the shape of crashes and another flat, fast stage designed for sprinters spells another
opportunity for Mark Cavendish to win. How to combat these twin issues?
Sean Yates explains: ‘The best way to stay out of trouble is to have your team around you and ride near the front. Also, the best way to win a sprint is to have your team take you to the
front of the race. We feel that by riding more aggressively than we have this week up to now, we can
It seemed like the ideal move for Wiggins. An English-speaking team would integrate him into European cycling more gently than the established Euro powerhouses. This was an exciting new squad
who were sweeping away preconceptions about ‘old school’ cycling and made a big deal about being clean and drug free, one where friendly faces like Matt Stephens and Russell Downing
would be. The Tour de France was just a few more eye-catching rides away for the new squad, perhaps even in 2001.
The money was right, and Bradley was assisted by his old friend and sometime manager Richard Allchin in settling the deal. Hands were shaken. Cars were loaded. Brad drove himself down to the
team’s new base in Toulouse and began to pin up posters of
The Italian Job
, The Who and Muhammad Ali around his rather pokey little billet in Colomiers. However, it proved to be a
miserable month. The bulk of the team were in Australia riding the team’s first race of the year, the Tour Down Under, and there was nothing much for the twenty-year-old to do other than ride
his bike. Christmas Day 2000 in Haute-Garonne was warm and sunny with the peaks of the distant Pyrenees pricking the blue horizon. But by mid-January, a familiar soggy fog had settled over the
sweetcorn fields that took the more enthusiastic rider out beyond the Forêt de Bouconne and the sleepy villages of Gers. It was a bedraggled and solitary Wiggins who arrived in Bagshot for
the new-look squad’s unofficial unveiling.
There was considerable excitement after McKenzie won the final stage of the Tour Down Under in a sweltering Melbourne; however, it quickly evaporated. The launch and the whole concept of the
team was a complete fiasco. The riders and staff numbered about 30, and they sat bewildered in a back room at the Cricketers Hotel on the A30 at Bagshot to be told by a frowning Sean Yates and Max
Sciandri that they had discovered there was no deal with Jaguar, no deal with Jacob’s Creek and the Linda McCartney money for 2001 had already been spent. Of Julian Clark, there was no
sign.
Yates and Sciandri battled to save the team, trying to raise more funds and trying to organise the team on a reduced budget, but it was clear by the end of that awful day that there wasn’t
a budget shortfall, there was no budget. No money at all.
The riders drifted away in a sense of shock. Some had the good sense to hang on to the beautiful new Principia bikes they’d been given. Sciandri, picking up a ride on the Lampre squad,
even rode his in the first Belgian classic, Het Volk, a couple of weeks later. The rest were left to seek their own fortune.
Bradley wasn’t as devastated as some. For a start, he was within riding distance of home, unlike the Australian, Colombian, Czech and Spanish recruits. He was young, he was an Olympic
medallist, and something would turn up. What turned up were the willing open arms of Team GB. In a brilliant move, they immediately put him back on the elite performance plan and reinstated his
salary. He had given his country a medal and they’d not forgotten him.
Welcome home, Brad.
STAGE 5:
Rouen–Saint Quentin, 196.5km
Thursday, 5 July 2012
It’s not exactly the infamous clear-the-air meeting during which sporting teams have to sort out their differences, but Team Sky do have a discussion about tactics before
Stage 5 of the Tour de France. Another flat, fast stage designed for the sprinters spells more danger in the shape of crashes and another flat, fast stage designed for sprinters spells another
opportunity for Mark Cavendish to win. How to combat these twin issues?
Sean Yates explains: ‘The best way to stay out of trouble is to have your team around you and ride near the front. Also, the best way to win a sprint is to have your team take you to the
front of the race. We feel that by riding more aggressively than we have this week up to now, we can
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