True to tradition, he arrived at his typical time.
Something tells me he was in a hurry. Maybe he had to be back home at some impossible time.
He let us lead the first few kilometers so everyone had a nice warm up.
Then he hit the front.
And that was the story of the whole ride.
The Pope leading, everyone else praying their favourite litany.
He took all the KOMs and all the sprints.
All but the one DD took.
He didn’t take the Esher sprint either.
He was going to, but he had me on his wheel all the way and he didn’t.
Not because I passed him in the last 10 meters, arms in the air celebrating just another amazing win in my fantastic cycling career, but because the sprint was neutralized due to too many cars.
I feel for him. All that effort wasted, without reward.
I don’t feel too much for him though. He was not in my team today.
Still, I’m such a nice guy that I hope he wasn’t too late back home.
What? What is what you did again? Was it to sit at the back of the group for most of the ride?
No, no. That is expected. No news there.
Was it to have to stop for a pee very often?
No, no. It wasn’t that either. We had rain at the start of the ride and I think I got cold. It is true that I had to stop a bit too often, even for my standards but that wasn’t it.
Was it that you were lost most of the route?
No, no. I am always lost half of the route! Today I only recognised the first two climbs. I actually missed Rupert at Abinger. I know he loves to smash that climb and I love to try to sit on his wheel all the way.
Was it that you dropped The Pope?
Would you believe that?
Nor me. The Pope was dropped but it was not my merit. We all agreed The Pope todays was Thibaut Pinot’s reincarnation.
It must be then that you had a coffee at the stop.
No, it is not that either. I definitely had a coffee. I know I sound like a broken record but I found myself riding with a group where everyone was riding stronger than me. I had to resort to caffeine to be able to deal with the pressure.
Ah, if you had a coffee then what you did again was to start taking turns at the front as you were a strong rider. It must be that.
It is not. Yes, I started at the front and didn’t shy away from taking turns. I probably expended a few matches I didn’t have but that happens all the time. Caffeine clouds my common sense and make me believe I am Wout van Aert’s reincarnation (The Pope can be Thibaut Pinot’s reincarnation; just in case you had any doubt there is no way I am Wout van Aert).
Oh well, it is clear then. What you did is to take the final sprint at Hampton.
No, it wasn’t that either. I agree with you that considering what a shitty sprinter I am, taking two final sprints in two consecutive weeks is surprising enough to exclaim “I did it again”. But what about the “Oops”. That implies that I didn’t want to do it and you can believe I wanted to take today’s sprint. I wanted it so bad I used all the tricks I know. Positioned myself perfectly at the back of the group, waited for the right moment to launch my sprint, and, very important, made sure no potential contestant knew where the sprint line was. That helps.
Of course the two potential contestants asked where the sprint line was. And I gave them the right answer. “Go ask Rupert and good luck”. So proud of the sharpness of my brain coming out with that answer.
A shame that I continued talking and gave away where exactly the finish line is.
Oops!...I Did It Again. For a second consecutive week I gave away where the sprint line is to riders that are considerably stronger than me.
