Kimmage At The Tour

The Sunday Times July 02, 2006


Cycling: Cycle of ambition
PAUL KIMMAGE

In 1986 I rode the Tour de France as a wide-eyed 24-year-old. Is
there anybody like me in this year's peloton?




::nobreak::For a long time now I've had this love/hate
relationship with the Tour de France. I love the event but I hate the people
who have destroyed it. And every summer a recurring battle rages in my head
.. . .

"I'm really looking forward to The Open." "You should go back to
the Tour." "I went to the Tour last year." "Yeah, you stayed for three days
and wrote a story about drugs. Why not cover the race from start to finish?"
"Three weeks?" "Yeah." "That's a lot of drugs stories." "You don't have to
write exclusively about drugs; you've competed in this race three times. Why
not write a diary about how it feels to go back?" "Because I'd rather write
a diary about The Open." "You never played in The Open." "No, but I'm
working on my handicap." "Think about it." "No."

But, four weeks ago, a funny thing happened. I had been planning
this bike ride in the Alps with my brothers and some friends for months. We
caught a flight to Geneva, hired a mini-bus and drove south to Grenoble
towards Gap. Grenoble used to be home during my time as a professional racer
and as we drove through the suburbs and up the Côte de Laffrey, my mind
started flooding with memories of what seems another life.

"You know," I announced, "when I rode the Tour I was still with
the leaders when we came up here in 1987."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the stage was a little
bit different to the one we're going to ride tomorrow."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the race was 400
kilometres longer and we had only one rest day."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour we were given just
five pairs of shorts and five jerseys to get us through the three weeks and
I had to hand-wash my kit after every second stage."

It didn't take long before a white flag was raised. "Listen
mate, no offence," my friend Harry announced. "But I think we'll have to
restrict you to the number of times you can say 'When I rode the Tour'
tomorrow."

"Fair enough," I conceded. "How does a hundred sound?" Next
morning everybody was buzzing as we pedalled out of Gap on a truly glorious
day. Three hours later, sweating and exhausted, we crested the summit of the
Col d'Izoard (2,360m), one of the Tour's most fabled climbs, and it was time
for a break. Harry was once an amateur international but had never
experienced anything like the Col d'Izoard.

"Christ," he said, "that was brutal." And then he put his arm on
my shoulder: "Listen, you can say 'When I rode the Tour' as much as you like
from now on. Respect." The rest of the group nodded in approval: "Yeah,
respect mate."

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing anybody
had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had always been
dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good.

Suddenly, I was reminded that there is much more to the Tour
than the race for the yellow jersey. And, at that moment, I knew I had to
return................




http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

=====================================
(A more-telling quote from the article referenced)-
David, why should we treat anything you say with any credibility?" I asked.
"Maybe I was wrong," he said.

The press conference continued. He started lecturing again. "The sport was
moving in the right direction," he insisted. "What's happened in Spain was
fantastic," he said. "The organised schematic doping is being eradicated,"
he said. "We need to get rid of the doctors," he said. And, finally, my
favourite: "We have a responsibility as professional cyclists to convince
the young guys coming through that it's possible to win without drugs."

Nobody challenged him. There wasn't a single writer in the room who asked:
"How would you know?" Furious, I raised my arm again. "David, you say that
the Spanish (doping) affair is fantastic for the sport and for the future of
the young kids coming into it . . . But that's exactly what was said in 1998
(after the Festina affair). And you were the young kid then . . .

"Why should we believe anything you say? You have no credibility?" "At the
moment I have no credibility . . . I've said it . . . You can't believe
anything I say." "Thanks," I said. I just wanted to clarify that.
========================================

I haven't read anything quite so bitter about a sport in quite some time.
Particularly bothersome is the manner in which he goes on the attack with
David Millar... if that exchange actually happened, it appears totally
classless and unfortunate, putting the poor guy in a corner that he couldn't
possibly hope to fight out of.

His total indictment is of *modern* cycling, as if he has some special
credibility from racing in the mid-80s, when there were no doping issues.

Ignorance was bliss for him then, yet he feels quite differently about those
in the sport now.

The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may enlighten
those who don't quite understand the world the original poster chooses to
live in.

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com



"B. Lafferty" wrote in message
ink.net...
The Sunday Times July 02, 2006


Cycling: Cycle of ambition
PAUL KIMMAGE

In 1986 I rode the Tour de France as a wide-eyed 24-year-old.
Is there anybody like me in this year's peloton?




::nobreak::For a long time now I've had this love/hate
relationship with the Tour de France. I love the event but I hate the
people who have destroyed it. And every summer a recurring battle rages in
my head . . .

"I'm really looking forward to The Open." "You should go back
to the Tour." "I went to the Tour last year." "Yeah, you stayed for three
days and wrote a story about drugs. Why not cover the race from start to
finish?" "Three weeks?" "Yeah." "That's a lot of drugs stories." "You
don't have to write exclusively about drugs; you've competed in this race
three times. Why not write a diary about how it feels to go back?"
"Because I'd rather write a diary about The Open." "You never played in
The Open." "No, but I'm working on my handicap." "Think about it." "No."

But, four weeks ago, a funny thing happened. I had been
planning this bike ride in the Alps with my brothers and some friends for
months. We caught a flight to Geneva, hired a mini-bus and drove south to
Grenoble towards Gap. Grenoble used to be home during my time as a
professional racer and as we drove through the suburbs and up the Côte de
Laffrey, my mind started flooding with memories of what seems another
life.

"You know," I announced, "when I rode the Tour I was still with
the leaders when we came up here in 1987."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the stage was a
little bit different to the one we're going to ride tomorrow."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the race was 400
kilometres longer and we had only one rest day."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour we were given just
five pairs of shorts and five jerseys to get us through the three weeks
and I had to hand-wash my kit after every second stage."

It didn't take long before a white flag was raised. "Listen
mate, no offence," my friend Harry announced. "But I think we'll have to
restrict you to the number of times you can say 'When I rode the Tour'
tomorrow."

"Fair enough," I conceded. "How does a hundred sound?" Next
morning everybody was buzzing as we pedalled out of Gap on a truly
glorious day. Three hours later, sweating and exhausted, we crested the
summit of the Col d'Izoard (2,360m), one of the Tour's most fabled climbs,
and it was time for a break. Harry was once an amateur international but
had never experienced anything like the Col d'Izoard.

"Christ," he said, "that was brutal." And then he put his arm
on my shoulder: "Listen, you can say 'When I rode the Tour' as much as you
like from now on. Respect." The rest of the group nodded in approval:
"Yeah, respect mate."

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing anybody
had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had always been
dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good.

Suddenly, I was reminded that there is much more to the Tour
than the race for the yellow jersey. And, at that moment, I knew I had to
return................




http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

"Mike Jacoubowsky" wrote in message
. com...
=====================================
(A more-telling quote from the article referenced)-
David, why should we treat anything you say with any credibility?" I
asked.
"Maybe I was wrong," he said.

The press conference continued. He started lecturing again. "The sport was
moving in the right direction," he insisted. "What's happened in Spain was
fantastic," he said. "The organised schematic doping is being eradicated,"
he said. "We need to get rid of the doctors," he said. And, finally, my
favourite: "We have a responsibility as professional cyclists to convince
the young guys coming through that it's possible to win without drugs."

Nobody challenged him. There wasn't a single writer in the room who asked:
"How would you know?" Furious, I raised my arm again. "David, you say that
the Spanish (doping) affair is fantastic for the sport and for the future
of the young kids coming into it . . . But that's exactly what was said in
1998 (after the Festina affair). And you were the young kid then . . .

"Why should we believe anything you say? You have no credibility?" "At the
moment I have no credibility . . . I've said it . . . You can't believe
anything I say." "Thanks," I said. I just wanted to clarify that.
========================================

I haven't read anything quite so bitter about a sport in quite some time.
Particularly bothersome is the manner in which he goes on the attack with
David Millar... if that exchange actually happened, it appears totally
classless and unfortunate, putting the poor guy in a corner that he
couldn't possibly hope to fight out of.

Classless? Real journalists have been called that and much worse before.
The "poor guy" put himself in the press room to answer questions and only
one reporter present had the guts to point out the white elephant in the
room.


His total indictment is of *modern* cycling, as if he has some special
credibility from racing in the mid-80s, when there were no doping issues.

There were doping issues back then. Kimmage did write a book called "A
Rough Ride" and he has reported on cycling and drugs on a consistent basis.


Ignorance was bliss for him then, yet he feels quite differently about
those in the sport now.

Kimmage was ignorant and niave as a young pro. Reality hit him rather
quickly as a pro.


The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may enlighten
those who don't quite understand the world the original poster chooses to
live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.


--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com



"B. Lafferty" wrote in message
ink.net...
The Sunday Times July 02, 2006


Cycling: Cycle of ambition
PAUL KIMMAGE

In 1986 I rode the Tour de France as a wide-eyed 24-year-old.
Is there anybody like me in this year's peloton?




::nobreak::For a long time now I've had this love/hate
relationship with the Tour de France. I love the event but I hate the
people who have destroyed it. And every summer a recurring battle rages
in my head . . .

"I'm really looking forward to The Open." "You should go back
to the Tour." "I went to the Tour last year." "Yeah, you stayed for three
days and wrote a story about drugs. Why not cover the race from start to
finish?" "Three weeks?" "Yeah." "That's a lot of drugs stories." "You
don't have to write exclusively about drugs; you've competed in this race
three times. Why not write a diary about how it feels to go back?"
"Because I'd rather write a diary about The Open." "You never played in
The Open." "No, but I'm working on my handicap." "Think about it." "No."

But, four weeks ago, a funny thing happened. I had been
planning this bike ride in the Alps with my brothers and some friends for
months. We caught a flight to Geneva, hired a mini-bus and drove south to
Grenoble towards Gap. Grenoble used to be home during my time as a
professional racer and as we drove through the suburbs and up the Côte de
Laffrey, my mind started flooding with memories of what seems another
life.

"You know," I announced, "when I rode the Tour I was still
with the leaders when we came up here in 1987."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the stage was a
little bit different to the one we're going to ride tomorrow."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the race was 400
kilometres longer and we had only one rest day."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour we were given just
five pairs of shorts and five jerseys to get us through the three weeks
and I had to hand-wash my kit after every second stage."

It didn't take long before a white flag was raised. "Listen
mate, no offence," my friend Harry announced. "But I think we'll have to
restrict you to the number of times you can say 'When I rode the Tour'
tomorrow."

"Fair enough," I conceded. "How does a hundred sound?" Next
morning everybody was buzzing as we pedalled out of Gap on a truly
glorious day. Three hours later, sweating and exhausted, we crested the
summit of the Col d'Izoard (2,360m), one of the Tour's most fabled
climbs, and it was time for a break. Harry was once an amateur
international but had never experienced anything like the Col d'Izoard.

"Christ," he said, "that was brutal." And then he put his arm
on my shoulder: "Listen, you can say 'When I rode the Tour' as much as
you like from now on. Respect." The rest of the group nodded in approval:
"Yeah, respect mate."

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing
anybody had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had
always been dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good.

Suddenly, I was reminded that there is much more to the Tour
than the race for the yellow jersey. And, at that moment, I knew I had to
return................




http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may enlighten
those who don't quite understand the world the original poster chooses to
live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.

William Ockham's way of looking at the world isn't a bad place to start
one's quest for answers.

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com


"B. Lafferty" wrote in message
nk.net...

"Mike Jacoubowsky" wrote in message
. com...
=====================================
(A more-telling quote from the article referenced)-
David, why should we treat anything you say with any credibility?" I
asked.
"Maybe I was wrong," he said.

The press conference continued. He started lecturing again. "The sport
was moving in the right direction," he insisted. "What's happened in
Spain was fantastic," he said. "The organised schematic doping is being
eradicated," he said. "We need to get rid of the doctors," he said. And,
finally, my favourite: "We have a responsibility as professional cyclists
to convince the young guys coming through that it's possible to win
without drugs."

Nobody challenged him. There wasn't a single writer in the room who
asked: "How would you know?" Furious, I raised my arm again. "David, you
say that the Spanish (doping) affair is fantastic for the sport and for
the future of the young kids coming into it . . . But that's exactly what
was said in 1998 (after the Festina affair). And you were the young kid
then . . .

"Why should we believe anything you say? You have no credibility?" "At
the moment I have no credibility . . . I've said it . . . You can't
believe anything I say." "Thanks," I said. I just wanted to clarify that.
========================================

I haven't read anything quite so bitter about a sport in quite some time.
Particularly bothersome is the manner in which he goes on the attack with
David Millar... if that exchange actually happened, it appears totally
classless and unfortunate, putting the poor guy in a corner that he
couldn't possibly hope to fight out of.

Classless? Real journalists have been called that and much worse before.
The "poor guy" put himself in the press room to answer questions and only
one reporter present had the guts to point out the white elephant in the
room.


His total indictment is of *modern* cycling, as if he has some special
credibility from racing in the mid-80s, when there were no doping issues.

There were doping issues back then. Kimmage did write a book called "A
Rough Ride" and he has reported on cycling and drugs on a consistent
basis.


Ignorance was bliss for him then, yet he feels quite differently about
those in the sport now.

Kimmage was ignorant and niave as a young pro. Reality hit him rather
quickly as a pro.


The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may enlighten
those who don't quite understand the world the original poster chooses to
live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.


--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com



"B. Lafferty" wrote in message
ink.net...
The Sunday Times July 02, 2006


Cycling: Cycle of ambition
PAUL KIMMAGE

In 1986 I rode the Tour de France as a wide-eyed 24-year-old.
Is there anybody like me in this year's peloton?




::nobreak::For a long time now I've had this love/hate
relationship with the Tour de France. I love the event but I hate the
people who have destroyed it. And every summer a recurring battle rages
in my head . . .

"I'm really looking forward to The Open." "You should go back
to the Tour." "I went to the Tour last year." "Yeah, you stayed for
three days and wrote a story about drugs. Why not cover the race from
start to finish?" "Three weeks?" "Yeah." "That's a lot of drugs
stories." "You don't have to write exclusively about drugs; you've
competed in this race three times. Why not write a diary about how it
feels to go back?" "Because I'd rather write a diary about The Open."
"You never played in The Open." "No, but I'm working on my handicap."
"Think about it." "No."

But, four weeks ago, a funny thing happened. I had been
planning this bike ride in the Alps with my brothers and some friends
for months. We caught a flight to Geneva, hired a mini-bus and drove
south to Grenoble towards Gap. Grenoble used to be home during my time
as a professional racer and as we drove through the suburbs and up the
Côte de Laffrey, my mind started flooding with memories of what seems
another life.

"You know," I announced, "when I rode the Tour I was still
with the leaders when we came up here in 1987."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the stage was a
little bit different to the one we're going to ride tomorrow."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour the race was 400
kilometres longer and we had only one rest day."

"You know," I said, "when I rode the Tour we were given just
five pairs of shorts and five jerseys to get us through the three weeks
and I had to hand-wash my kit after every second stage."

It didn't take long before a white flag was raised. "Listen
mate, no offence," my friend Harry announced. "But I think we'll have to
restrict you to the number of times you can say 'When I rode the Tour'
tomorrow."

"Fair enough," I conceded. "How does a hundred sound?" Next
morning everybody was buzzing as we pedalled out of Gap on a truly
glorious day. Three hours later, sweating and exhausted, we crested the
summit of the Col d'Izoard (2,360m), one of the Tour's most fabled
climbs, and it was time for a break. Harry was once an amateur
international but had never experienced anything like the Col d'Izoard.

"Christ," he said, "that was brutal." And then he put his arm
on my shoulder: "Listen, you can say 'When I rode the Tour' as much as
you like from now on. Respect." The rest of the group nodded in
approval: "Yeah, respect mate."

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing
anybody had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had
always been dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good.

Suddenly, I was reminded that there is much more to the Tour
than the race for the yellow jersey. And, at that moment, I knew I had
to return................





http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

"Mike Jacoubowsky" wrote in message
.com...
The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may
enlighten those who don't quite understand the world the original poster
chooses to live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.

William Ockham's way of looking at the world isn't a bad place to start
one's quest for answers.

William would probably **** in his pants from laughter if he saw your post.


--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com

B. Lafferty wrote:
: by PAUL KIMMAGE
: Grenoble used to be home during my time as a professional
racer
: and as we drove through the suburbs and up the Côte de Lafferty, my
mind
: started flooding with memories of what seems another life.

Hmm, this explains a lot.

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing anybody
had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had always been
dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good. ...
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

Probably few people ever despised Paul Kimmage as much
as he thinks. This series is rather a lot about Paul Kimmage
as much as today's Tour - even his quest is for a Tour rider
who reminds him of ... Paul Kimmage.

Hacking David Millar off is no great feat of truth-telling, especially
since Millar was hardly verbally agile even before he was busted
and disgusted. If Kimmage stops worrying about hacks in the
pressroom and what people think of Paul Kimmage, he could
bring an interesting perspective; I hope this series winds up
being of interest to the readers as well as to Paul Kimmage's
therapist.

The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may enlighten
those who don't quite understand the world the original poster chooses to
live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.

Actually, that does deserve a better answer than my original reply. In all
seriousness, your views and the authors', and the way they're expressed, are
amazingly similar. In the case of the author (Paul Kimmage), we have the
benefit of understanding, to some extent, how his views came to be. We learn
about his background and experiences, and from that get a better idea for
why he would question (a very kind way to put it) David Millar in the manner
he did.

Somewhere between Mr. Kimmel's challenges and those who would pretend that
none of this matters is a middle ground that is not all that bad a place to
be. But it's not nearly as fun a place to be because there are shades of
gray, with the possibility that things might not be quite what they appear,
so you can't feel so comfortable climbing upon soap boxes, telling the world
that you are right and they are wrong.

--Mike-- Chain Reaction Bicycles
www.ChainReactionBicycles.com

"Mike Jacoubowsky" wrote in message
.com...
The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may
enlighten those who don't quite understand the world the original poster
chooses to live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.

Actually, that does deserve a better answer than my original reply. In all
seriousness, your views and the authors', and the way they're expressed,
are amazingly similar. In the case of the author (Paul Kimmage), we have
the benefit of understanding, to some extent, how his views came to be. We
learn about his background and experiences, and from that get a better
idea for why he would question (a very kind way to put it) David Millar in
the manner he did.

Somewhere between Mr. Kimmel's challenges and those who would pretend that
none of this matters is a middle ground that is not all that bad a place
to be. But it's not nearly as fun a place to be because there are shades
of gray, with the possibility that things might not be quite what they
appear, so you can't feel so comfortable climbing upon soap boxes, telling
the world that you are right and they are wrong.

And you know, I've been right about the doping as a major problem despite
omerta and heads in the sand. Thanks!

wrote in message
oups.com...
B. Lafferty wrote:
: by PAUL KIMMAGE
: Grenoble used to be home during my time as a professional
racer
: and as we drove through the suburbs and up the Côte de Lafferty, my
mind
: started flooding with memories of what seems another life.

Hmm, this explains a lot.

I laughed and tried to brush it off but suddenly there was a
lump in my throat and I felt deeply moved. It was the nicest thing anybody
had ever said about my life as a professional cyclist; I had always been
dismissed as a journeyman who was never any good. ...
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspap...252601,00.html

Probably few people ever despised Paul Kimmage as much
as he thinks. This series is rather a lot about Paul Kimmage
as much as today's Tour - even his quest is for a Tour rider
who reminds him of ... Paul Kimmage.

It's an interesting angle considering he states that he has no interest in
who wins the Tour.

Hacking David Millar off is no great feat of truth-telling, especially
since Millar was hardly verbally agile even before he was busted
and disgusted. If Kimmage stops worrying about hacks in the
pressroom and what people think of Paul Kimmage, he could
bring an interesting perspective; I hope this series winds up
being of interest to the readers as well as to Paul Kimmage's
therapist.

To put some perspective on it, Kimmage was attacked by everyone in the
sport -riders, managers, journalists- after publishing A Rough Ride. People
like Fignon and Stephen Roche literally turned their backs on him when he
visited the Tour. I doubt that he's "worried" about the cycling hacks in
the press room. Interesting that the hacks were trying to minimize the
fallout from Spain right up until the **** really hit the fan. Same ****,
different year, eh?

B. Lafferty wrote:
"Mike Jacoubowsky" wrote in message
.com...

The article is definitely worth reading, if only because it may
enlighten those who don't quite understand the world the original poster
chooses to live in.

How simplistic of you. I would have though you capable of better.

Actually, that does deserve a better answer than my original reply. In all
seriousness, your views and the authors', and the way they're expressed,
are amazingly similar. In the case of the author (Paul Kimmage), we have
the benefit of understanding, to some extent, how his views came to be. We
learn about his background and experiences, and from that get a better
idea for why he would question (a very kind way to put it) David Millar in
the manner he did.

Somewhere between Mr. Kimmel's challenges and those who would pretend that
none of this matters is a middle ground that is not all that bad a place
to be. But it's not nearly as fun a place to be because there are shades
of gray, with the possibility that things might not be quite what they
appear, so you can't feel so comfortable climbing upon soap boxes, telling
the world that you are right and they are wrong.


And you know, I've been right about the doping as a major problem despite
omerta and heads in the sand. Thanks!

How simplistic of you.