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the hardmen. legends of the cycling gods. velominati. pursuit publishing hardback. 235pp illus. £12.99

"Moser still comes out head and shoulders above, in the broad, indefinable yet crucial 'I will dominate you and look fucking fantastic while doing it' category."

the hardmen - velominati

many of you will have been watching the final time-trial of the giro d'italia on sunday afternoon, keen to see whether tom dumoulin would ultimately succeed ahead of the apparently humourless nairo quintana in the pink skinsuit. at each checkpoint throughout the event, not only was the rider's time displayed on-screen in relation to whomsoever was leading at the time, but more often than not, the average speed was also shown. i cannot deny that during the ride of vasil kiryienka i was moved to silently exhale at a slightly higher rate than normal when his average speed was shown as well over 80kph.

that would suggest, in old money, he was riding at an average of more than 50mph, something few of us could equal even when riding downhill with a following wind. in fact, looking at the times of his fellow competitors, he seemed to be riding at almost twice their rate and surely en-route to a victory of minutes rather than seconds.

however, if you'd care to check sunday's final standings, you'd note that kiryienka finished in fourth place, 31 seconds down on tom dumoulin. rather than offer accolades to a hardman amongst hardmen, perhaps we may be more inclined to put his apparently breathtaking speed down to a glitch in the gps data.

this is not to ultimately deny kiryienka a possible place on the pantheon of cycling gods, but we may be more inclined to wait until a few more years have passed before making any rash statements. what is not open to question are the places currently occupied by the so-called gods of cycling. in this particular case, these gods are so-called by the velominati and if anyone were to ask, that's pretty darned ginger peachy with me.

but lest you think the hardmen exists as a compact volume of dogma handed down on high from two americans and an australian, let me disavow you of that misapprehension.

"In single-day events the ultimate test of endurance was reached with the 1,200km Paris-Brest-Paris, which continues to this day as an amateur randonnée event, for which entry is restricted to people who have absolutely no appreciation for how far 1,200 km actually is."

i think at this point, the keepers of the cog have laid their cards plainly on the table.

hardmen can, it seems, be split into five distinct categories, the naming of which pertains specifically to the language most appropriate for the purpose. thus we have les rouleurs, populated by riders such as eddy merckx, nicole cooke (the hardmen appelation is apparently and quite rightly, non-gender specific), sean yates, bernard hinault and marianne vos, to name but a few. these are followed by les grimpeurs, de klassiekers, les domestiques and finally i velocisti

conveniently for the approaching reader, part 1 is preceded by a short note on style, intended as a reflection on the velominati's reverence for cycling heritage. this explains why the above noted chapter headings are as they are.

"Using the language of the peloton might come across as Europhile snobbery, but our intention is to express our respect for the culture of our sport. And possibly be a bit snobbish.

the velominati, through their rules of cycling (included at the back of the book) have all but defined what it is to be a cyclist in this modern age. self-deprecation is an inherent feature of adherence to the rules, combined with a tongue that is firmly planted in one or other cheek. this is a carefully cultured state reflected even (and particularly) in the footnotes peppered throughout the book. for example, when discussing the meaning of parcours...

"Why don't we just say 'profile'? Because 'parcours' is French and it is customary to adopt the old European terms for such things whenever possible in order to further mystify our sport to those not familar with it."

yet, aside from the inherent sense of humour that pretends not to be humour within its pages, 'the hardmen' has the potential to become an essential read not only for those of us who like to think we are well-versed in cycling's rich heritage, but for those who might be in the early stages of worrying about actually having to wear a pair of lycra bibshorts. all the true greats are featured here: moser, verbrugghe, beryl burton, van impe, pantani, roche, de vlaeminck; i'm sure you get the picture, each reverently described in a manner that will ensure their continued adulation well into the future. this surely ought to mean that pelotonic conversations will rarely have to descend into explanatory mode when welcoming newbies to the throng.

for instance, what better way to introduce the inestimable jens voigt than by way of a post-race quote from the originator of shut up legs!?

"At one point Conan (the Barbarian) and his other old warrior friends capture this village, but then they find that they are surrounded by an army of tens of thousands, and his only reaction is 'Oh man, it's going to take days to kill all those people!'"

as with any list of this nature, one which bears comparison with the likes of rolling stone magazine's top 100 drummers' and slimming magazine's top ten fruits, there are always going to be what many of us regard as glaring omissions. true to their metièr, the keepers of the cog self-effacingly deal with this potential problem in the book's finale...

"...how is it possible that we left out some of the most hardened, tough riders in the world? There are a variety of explanations, some of which include things like 'would have required research' or 'forgot about them until after we finished'"

there are quite a number of cycling books that i have recently reviewed and several more that i am frantically reading in order to review prior to their publication dates, a battle that, sadly, i appear to be losing. however, it would be no exaggeration to state that several concern historical happenings in the world of the velocipede. of necessity, most of these are scholarly works, books that commend themselves predominantly to the cognoscenti, eager and willing to inhale every last scrap of information about the sport and its riders.

but no matter the apparent seriousness of our demeanour, there is always room for a smidgeon of levity. a former teacher of my acquaintance harboured the enviable ability to teach, while all the while appearing to be a perennial humourist, paying scant regard to the more serious business of education. were he in any way interested in cycling, he would absolutely adore this book. in fact, despite his lack of appreciation for way of the bicycle, he'd probably love it anyway. for those about to serve their apprenticeship in the nether regions of the sunday morning peloton, this will be like manna from merckx, offering an important overview of their potential birthright by way of preaching from atop the muur de geraardsbergen.

what i'm actually trying to say, in my usual long-winded way, is that this is utterly brilliant in every imaginable way.

"...Flanders, Belgium, where even small children ride in the big ring."

wednesday 31 may 2017

twmp ..........................................................................................................................................................................................................