I Sent a Message to Mia – Part Deux

Over the past few days, media identity Mia Freedman has been subjected to some vicious, bordering on imbecilic abuse for her comments regarding Cadel Evans’ Tour de France victory on The Today Show. I posted two comments on her blog & sent her some tweets. Critical, but not abusive; in fact I despair at the use of the words ‘courageous’ & ‘brave’ to describe on-field endeavours – so in one sense, I agree with part of Mia’s argument – but I would flip part of it and say, ‘hey, sports commentators, don’t abuse the English language’.

I have three main objections to what Mia Freedman said on Monday. Firstly, you can’t call yourself a journalist and have a regular gig on a high-rating TV programme commenting on the news without doing the barest bit of research. Cadel Evans was in the news. Read an article. Look at Wikipedia if you must. Pick up something about the race, about his life (other than he lives in Switzerland). No one was asking you to feign interest in the sport, but it’s surely irresponsible to display wilful ignorance on ‘the news’ when that is why you have a platform on the programme. I didn’t see what Karl Stefanovic did or said before the segment, so I can’t comment on his behaviour, but from Mia’s account on the Mamamia blog, the only news Karl was interested in discussing during her regular segment on The Today Show was Cadel Evans’ victory. I checked Karl’s Twitter feed, and he genuinely was right into the Tour. That said, I think Karl trolled Mia big-time, she took the bait and the frenzy has rebounded on her, not him, or the show. I mean, the camera crew booed her. That’s going to set people off. Apparently Cadel did a phoner with them on Tuesday, so maybe The Today Show scored a ratings bump from the whole thing. I wouldn’t know; even Cadel wouldn’t make me watch the programme. I am all for people jumping on the Cadel bandwagon if it gets kids on the handlebars of an old pushy and off the controls of a bloody video game. I am not for people jumping on the Cadel bandwagon to use it as an excuse for jingoism and I am fully aware that plenty of people have.

Like I said, I don’t watch The Today Show, I don’t know what attention it has paid to things that I consider news: drought and famine in the Horn of Africa; the murder of children in Norway or dissecting the Government and Opposition’s climate change positions or the Malaysian refugee swap deal being struck that day (the former now approaching a ‘Carry On’ movie; the latter, in my opinion, just state-sanctioned human trafficking that will create a two-tiered level of human misery – but that’s a subject for an upcoming post). That leads me to my second objection to what happened on Monday. For once, a professional cyclist made the front page of some major newspapers. Anyone who watches a news or current affairs programme in Australia must realise that as soon as a press release announcing a scientific breakthrough is issued, it is covered by TV news, complete with a news director’s dream package: white coats, vision of laboratories and victims of XY disease hailing a new discovery – even if five, 10 years later, we fail to go back and see if the breakthrough had moved beyond the lab and saved any lives. The discovery is still hailed by the media. True, other ‘heroic’ professions receive much less attention or praise. The only time we’re likely to read about social work is if a child dies, for example – and then it is their fault; not ours as a society for watching on as violent relationships continue. We rightly mourn soldiers killed in action; but are any of us familiar with the needs of the returned, and whether they and their families receive adequate support? It took me several weeks of watching the excellent Baker Boys: Inside The Surge documentary to learn that more US soldiers have taken their own lives since the Iraq and Afghanistan wars started than have been killed in action. All the while, Congress continues to cut Veterans’ Affair’s budget. It’s horrific. I don’t know if there is a way of finding that information in Australia; it’s a challenge I’ll set myself – because I certainly haven’t seen or read anything on it. To me, that’s a story. I am not a journalist. I tweet & I have this crappy blog to rant on. Mia Freedman has built her entire career flogging celebrity tittle-tat in magazines. She has a money-making blog. TV appearances. Books. Staff. Put one of them out there and sniff out a story on those people you say are ignored, or not celebrated. You have the platforms, the resources and the fan base. Use it, please, or cut the hypocrisy.

Finally, and an argument expressed far better by Dr Bridie O’Donnell, is the notion that we have to choose between what achievements garner news attention, and the people we consider heroes. As Dr O’Donnell wrote, you can save lives and be bloody miserable, or suffer themselves at the mercy of other ‘lifesavers’ who are egotistical pricks. As the sister of a ‘lifesaver’, it’s an argument I am deeply familiar with. My brother is a hero to many people, including me, but he chose his profession. No one forced him to say ‘no’ to university; instead he worked in pubs for years, volunteered, worked part-time and now full-time on a rescue chopper. His motivation may be to save lives, and on a very good day, he does exactly that. Sadly, a lot of his work involves scraping the remains of car accident victims off our roads. He works with cops & fireys and they can tell pretty quickly whether an accident was caused by speed – & if it is, his response is always the same. He doesn’t care about the floral tributes and the pain. To him – to the cops, doctors, nurses, whoever has to pick up the pieces and try and fix broken bodies or record the time of death – they’re bloody dickheads. They may only say it to each other, or to their families, but to them, it’s another day at the office. It’s not something I could do, but he made a choice to do it. He made a choice was not to become a teacher – the profession I admire most because I see education as the greatest gift we can pass on to the next generation. My Mum taught, unassumingly, for a pretty average salary, for 40 years. She spent the last decade teaching at one of the most disadvantaged primary schools in NSW. I will never forget the day I went shopping with her & a woman in her early 20s stopped us. Mum knew her name instantly and asked what she was doing. “I’ve got a scholarship to Harvard, just home for the holidays,” she replied. Similarly, I made a choice not to teach, but study communications. As inspired as I was by my Mum and by the brilliant teachers I had throughout high school, I thought I could do better things by becoming a journalist and reporting ‘the news’. If you read this you’ll know how easily I let that choice go. I am not the most admirable person on the planet, but I studied hard, went to university, built a career, travelled the world, and went back to university in my late 30s. I did this while battling the scar tissue of trauma I wouldn’t wish on anyone. In my own way, I am my own hero when I climb a mental mountain and go outside when panic and anxiety make the sunshine hurt. I’ve also learnt that you don’t have to be a ‘lifesaver’ to be a hero; sometimes it’s just about giving a damn about what you do – with your life & the impact you have on others.

I Sent a Message to Mia …

As anyone who followed my tweetstream today would know, I found Mia Freedman’s comments re: Cadel Evans petty and mean-spirited, so I tweeted her, the Today Show, & just left a message on her blog:

Mia

I tweeted you several times today, & sent links to my blog post about cycling. I hope you read them. I also hope you read Cadel Evans’ biography, ‘Close to Flying’, although your comment at the end of the clip makes me doubt that you will. If you do, ‘chapeau’. Here is a deeply thoughtful, determined man you did denigrate this morning:  “I’m fired down. I just don’t care.” Worse still, you don’t understand how ‘regular people get it’; the smarmy comment about violins playing.

You liked Tina Arena? Tina is a massive star in France. She lives in France. So why,repeatedly, did you say, “he doesn’t even live in Australia, he lives in Switzerland.” If you understood the sport, you would know cyclists train in Europe. It was really small of you to go back to that point, as if he’s less Australian.

For what it’s worth, my brother fits into your definition of hero – he’s a senior crewman on Westpac Rescue Helicopter. He doesn’t do it ‘selflessly’; it was his dream, & he’s paid to do it. His job is more dangerous than yours, but does that make his life worth more? No. He’s no more heroic than my Mother. You can work hard in your chosen vocation, pursue your dream & never give up. A cyclist was on the front page of the newspaper today – for once – after achieving the pinnacle of his sport. A sport where people can be killed.

I hope you write a lot of articles about the ‘regular’ people you claim to view as heroes (having made a living out of writing & editing magazines filled with ‘celebrities’). Heroism is subjective, & you’re entitled to your view. I am truly sorry you have been abused. However different our heroes may be, they don’t have to be exclusive. I can view my brother with respect, take pride in my own achievements (am I less of a woman for not having a child? No) and still look in awe watching a man battle his body for 3,000 kilometres to fulfil his dream

From what you have written, it sounds like you channelled your feelings about Karl Stefanovic’s decision to make the Today Show ‘Cadel Day’, on camera, to belittle a man who’s done nothing to you, & to insult the millions of people who did enjoy the race & do ‘get it’. If you didn’t like it, don’t appear on the segment!

So let’s see lots of posts about social workers & nurses on Mamamia. You’re the one with the pulpit – TV shows, blogs & books. If you don’t like worthy ‘heroes’ being ignored, then shine a light on them. Lead by example. I hope you read my blog, at least give this a go, so you can understand how a sport can touch a ‘regular’ person who has many different interests, heroes and passions.

Thank you
Kimberley

Cadel, le vainquer

I didn’t really have many words last night … just a feeling.

In 2007, Cadel Evans went into the starting house within reach of Alberto Contador. I had watched the Spanish man dance on the pedals in the mountains, & thought, ‘now this is not merely sport, but art’. I didn’t know how he would time trial. I knew Cadel could time trial, and he did. He rode the race of his life and at every checkpoint, he took time from Contador. It wasn’t enough. ‘Bertie’ showed he could do it to0. He won the Tour by 23 seconds. 

In 2008, the man wearing the yellow jersey, Carlos Sastre, having destroyed his follow ‘heads of state’ on the hairpin bends of the Alpe d’Huez, went into the starting house holding a 1’34″ lead on third-placed Cadel. I think everyone expected him expected to fade. He didn’t. More importantly, Cadel didn’t time trial as well as everyone thought he would. Sastre won the 2008 Tour de France by 58″.

Thge 2009 Tour was awful. He finised 45′ behind Contador. From two 2nd places to 30th. Clearly the relationship between Cadel & Silence-Lotto was over, despite the addition of Phillipe Gilbert (PhilGil) to the team.

Then that day at Mendrisio … world champion. The announcement that Cadel was looking for new challenges & would leave Lotto. Signing with BMC Racing Team. Winning Fleche Wallone and the holding the maglia rosa at the Giro. He didn’t win, but as he and Alexandre ‘Vino’ Vinokourov slugged out stage 7 on the strada bianche like a muddied Frasier / Ali, there was just this feeling that this year would be the year. New team, rainbow jersey, solid Giro in the legs. Now for the Tour. We know now what happened, but at the time it seemed like that was it. After taking the yellow jersey, Cadel ‘cracked’ on the next mountain stage. He lost something like 8 minutes & collapsed in tears in the arms of his teammate at the end of the stage. He had fallen the day he took the jersey. Still, there was an assumption that the effort of the Giro had caused him to crack. The gruelling Tour of Italy had certainly taken it’s toll, but we learned later was that he had broken a bone in his arm. He finished 26th. That he finished the Tour at all is incredible; but there seemed to be a sense that time was running out for Cadel to win the Tour, that the rivalry between Bertie and the brothers Schleck would dominate.

This year, I watched Cadel ride and win Tirreno-Adriatico and the Tour of Romandie. I didn’t watch the Criterium du Dauphine, where he finished 2nd. I have watched every moment of this Tour. BMC’s Team Time Trial showed how determined, & more importantly, cohesive the squad was. For the first time, watching him guided through the peloton at all times by a black & red-clad teammate, rarely in trouble while almost all of the top riders fell (some injured so badly they were forced to abandon) … there was a sense that it really was his for the taking. After denying Bertie on the line of the Mur de Bretagne, Cadel took the podium for the first time as a stage winner at the Tour (he was awarded his first stage – the first 2007 TT – retrospectively, following Vino’s positive test, but was denied the honour of a podium). Why were they racing so hard? Well, Contador had to make up big time. But Cadel? To me, it was a perfect stage to go for. As he kicked past PhilGil, it was only Contador who could go with him. These men both know the meaning of ‘every second counts’. They have won and lost 3,000km races by a handful of seconds. Cadel threw his machine at the line. He won.

All I could think at that moment was how much Cadel wanted the victory & smiled. I smiled as his team rode hard in week one, even though Cadel wasn’t in yellow. A lot of people questioned why. I liked it. It was a psychological message to the teams of the other big boys. We’re here. We will race hard every day. Every day, for every second.

As they reached the Pyrenees, Cadel was still there. Every move marked. We transitioned to the Alps. Where the Tour is won and lost. The team gave its all. Leopard-Trek did what they do in every mountain stage – set an excruciating tempo to isolate the other elite riders so that Frank & Andy Schleck could attack and counter-attack their rivals. It didn’t work on the first day. They couldn’t shed the yellow jersey of Thomas Voeckler, let alone Cadel.

They had to switch tactics. On the path to the Galibier, Andy Schleck attacked early. He rode solo, to victory for 40 kilometres, and deservedly so. Meanwhile, Cadel reduced a 4′ gap almost entirely by himself to just two. He saved his Tour. He towed a pack of men up the climb with him. He had to. He wanted it.

Then, the feared show down on the Alpe d’Huez. Same-same … Leopard-Trek would try and explode the peloton early, even though it was a short stage. But Bertie – his chances of a Tour win seemingly over – launched an even more audacious attack with 90km to go. The vanquished champion, battered & unlucky, had failed to stay with Cadel on the Galibier – and now he was attacking before Leopard-Trek had time to organise it’s tank-style group attack. This was racing – this was panache – and threw the script out of the window. Already disoriented by what was unfolding, as the cameras lurched back to Cadel several times at the side of the road, until he changed bikes, he had lost 70″ on the leaders, and with it, I feared, the Tour de France. To me, BMC’s directuer sportif, John Lelangue, made the difference. Cadel went back to the peloton, back to his boys, instead of chasing solo, as Voeckler did. For me, it proved the difference. He was given the support he needed & saved the energy he needed at the end to go up the Alpe d’Huez, clawing every second back. The only downside was watching Bertie unable to reap the stage victory on what was one of the most audacious rides I’ve ever seen, befitting the champion he is.

… and so the Battle through the Alps finished. It would go down to the ‘race of truth’. Cadel versus the Schleck brothers and the clock. Would the maillot jaune give Andy Schleck the wings it gave Sastre?

This time, after those two huge efforts & refusal to lie down because of some bad luck with the bike, and despitemy nerves jangling, I believed he could do it. I believed he wanted it more. As every time check passed, & it became increasingly clear that Cadel Evans was riding the time trial of his life & would take the maillot jaune into Paris, I realised how much this moment meant to me & to millions of people around the world. All of the disappointments, all of the bad luck, all of the criticisms that he didn’t attack … all erased. Cadel rode so brilliantly he almost beat time-trial wunderkind, Tony Martin to finish second. He not only recouped the time Andy Schleck held, he smashed it. He left it all on the road and was presented with the maillot jaune on the only day it matters. To wear it into Paris.

Thank you to the riders, the teams, the SBS crew led by Mike Tomalaris for bringing us each stage, and to everyone who has shared this beautiful race with me, on Twitter & by reading my blog posts (especially Chiara Passerini!)

Chapeau, Cadel Evans. Le vainquer du Tour de France 2011.

A Simple Message to Cadel

Dear Cadel,

You’re a fine man & a champion athlete. You have shown that time & again. Last night was no different. You rode your own race … and a few others’ as well.

Tonight: the Alpe d’Huez. Tomorrow: the race of truth.

Marcus Burghardt said it best in a tweet after stage 4:

Today we saw what BMC Racing Team can do with 9 riders and 19 staff pulling for one goal

Now, there is a million-plus army clad in the black & red of BMC.

A whole country willing you on.

Your bella Chiara – her humour & grace beloved by all.

All pulling in the same direction.

One goal – to see you in the maillot jaune on the only road that matters … the Champs Élysée.

Two more efforts. Chapeau. Forza

 

Close to Flying

One man against the clock

Chiara Passerini and her World Champion, Mendrisio, 2009

BMC Pro Racing, on their way to 2nd in the Team Time Trial, 2011 TdF

Procycling: I love you

In October last year, as the World Road Cycling Championships were being hosted in Geelong, a doping scandal broke in professional cycling. Not just any doping story – the doping story: three-time Tour de France winner, Alberto Contador had tested positive for the banned substance, clenbuterol. The news hurt; as Australia watched the best procyclists in the world go around, arguably the best cyclist of his generation, who had not only won Le Tour, but taken out the three grand tours – the Giro d’Italia and Vuelta e Espana – had added his name to a list of drug cheats so long that the sport was beyond a joke to many people, and another cut to the ranks of those who see it as an unmatchable combination of athletic ability, teamwork, tactics and individual belief. As I wrote here, I desperately wanted the news about ‘Bertie’ not to be true. As it stands, hewas cleared byhis home cycling association of any wrongdoing, but the World Anti-Doping Agency & Union Cycliste Internationale (International Cycling Union) appealed the case to the Court of Arbitration for Sport. The case was supposed to be heard before the start of this year’s Tour; so Contador rode – and won - a tough Giro d’Italia. The case was postponed: for whatever reason, WADA & the UCI agreed to Contador’s lawyers’ request for an adjournment. That sparked a predictable, ‘should he or shouldn’t he race the Tour’. For what it’s worth, I am firmly in the yes, he should ride camp. Legally, he is entitled to compete. If he was barred, without WADA / UCI appeal being heard, let alone won, the vanquer of this year’s Tour would always have the, ‘could he have beaten Contador?’ tag around his neck. This week saw the undignified bundling into a car by Team Katusha of their promising young rider, Alexandr Kolobnev, who returned a positive A sample for a diuretic masking agent. He was pulled out of the race after a bizarre statement from the UCI that virtually forced the team to do ‘the right thing’ and after the rest of the world learned of the result via the French sporting newspaper, L’Equipe (owned by the same French consortium which organises the Tour) before Kolobnev was himself informed. But this post isn’t about doping. It’s an open letter of love and respect to the men and women who ride bicycles professionally.

Firstly, the prayer of a stranger from the church for the fallen. Among the cyclists seriously injured or killed this year, the death of Team LeopardTrek rider, Wouter Weylandt, in this year’s Giro was perhaps the most horrific because it happened in front of those watching. His helmet was no match for the fall, and he died from the terrible wound the road inflicted on his brain. It was a shocking thing to witness, the death of an athlete young, to paraphrase Housman. His bib number, 108, has been retired from the race. Yet in the midst of their anguish, his teammates and best friend, Garmin-Cervelo sprinter, Tyler Farrar, rode the next stage of the race. As the peloton grouped behind them, they locked hands and crossed the line to end a stage of a grand tour not in a furious assault, but bowed, finally, in sorrow. It is a moment in sport – any sport – that I will never forget. If you missed it, or have no interest in professional cycling, and have never heard Wouter Weylandt’s name, this is all you need to know: 

Then, two weeks later, came the news – unbelievable – that Spanish cyclist, Xavier Tondo had been killed in a freak accident, crushed beneath a garage door. The Movistar team rider another missing from the peloton. Last week, glued to the Tour and watchng advertisements for the Amy Gillett Foundation (established in the name of the Australian cyclist killed by a car while on a training ride in Germany), Australia lost another cyclist in the same way. Carly Hibberd was struck by a car while training in Italy. Cadel Evans tweeted, stunned, from the Tour:

I’m very, very sorry. I ride that road too.

So it is with great sorrow when I read comments, supposedly made in jest, that it is somehow fun to watch cyclists crash. ESPN sports commentator Michael Smith was forced to apologise for this barrage of inanity  (captured in its entirety on the excellent Tour de France Lanterne Rouge blog) about an appalling accident on Stage 9 of the Tour, where Vacansoleil’s Johnny Hoogerland and Sky’s Juan Antonio Flecha could also have lost their lives when a car from the French broadcaster France 2/3 tried to barge its way ahead of the breakaway group they were riding in. Watching the accident with a friend, we could not believe what we were seeing. Flecha was lucky not to go under the car, while Hoogerland was flung on to a barbed wire fence. This on the same stage that saw another serious accident end this year’s tour for Astana’s Alexandre Vinokourov, Omega Pharma Lotto’s Jurgen van den Broeck and Frederik Willems, as well as Garmin-Cervelo’s David Zabriskie. Sky’s main GC hope, Bradley Wiggins was also forced to abandon after a crash, while Contador has been involved in a number of falls.

Again, from the ‘Tour de Carnage’ as Australia’s Stuart O’Grady (Team LeopardTrek) named it, came great courage. The battered, bleeding Hoogerland and Flecha both finished the stage, and in another triumph of the will, collected his polka dot King of the Mountains jersey. Overcome with emotion, he wept silently on the podium, earning the admiration of everyone who loves the sport. As Hoogerland said, ”… I’m still alive. Wouter Weylandt wasn’t that lucky.”  They both continue to ride, heavily bandaged and stitched up. They ride in pain, in the company of men who suffer their own agonies, whether it’s hanging on to the peloton as it forms an echelon in the whipping wind off the Bretagne coast, or climbing hills (soon to become mountains), or give every ounce of effort to throw themselves at the line in a bunch sprint.

Cycling is often seen as an individual sport, particularly as we start ‘the real Tour’ tonight with the first mountain stage. When a peloton of 170 riders are defeated one after another by relentless climbs until a handful of the strongest riders, fighting for the golden fleece on the podium of the Champs Elysee, attack and counter-attack until one proves himself as a class above the best. It’s easy to understand that perception of individualism; each rider with their idiosynchracies; the cat-and-mouse games played out by an elite, taunting each other with a burst of acceleration in the hope they won’t be caught. The truth is far from it. Cadel Evans chances of winning the Tour de France were often talked down by the inability of his then-team, Silence Lotto, to provide him adequate cover and support. This year, after a calamitous result where he was lucky to finish the tour, having ridden his one day in yellow with a broken bone in his arm, he has had a purpose-built racing programme with one goal in sight: to win the Tour de France. His team, BMC ProRacing, is there to fulfil his ambition. “What can be achieved when 19 people (riders, management and staff) are pulling in one direction,” his teammate, Marcus Burghardt, said after their stunning (and unexpected) 2nd to Garmin-Cervelo in the Team Time Trial. Evans has ben guided, protected, nurtured at the front by his Praetorian Guard, led by 16-Tour veteran, George Hincapie. He has the confidence of winning a stage, and sitting in third place overall. BMC has also demonstrated its strength by frequently driving the peloton, doing the pacemaking despite their leader not wearing the yelloy jersey. To some, it seems a peculiar waste of effort; to me, it is a test of mental toughness, a clear message to the “big” teams that BMC is ready to take the tour by the neck and wring every drop of lactic acid from themselves and their rivals in order to complete their mission: the top spot on the podium for their leader, and the maillot jaune in Paris.

This is my love letter to these men of the peloton; those we have lost, and those who honour the sport with their refusal to give in to bodies screaming for the stage to just stop, those who fall and right themselves, race on back to their brothers in the pack. Those like Thomas Voeckler, who snatched the overall lead in that momentous stage 9 by daring to breakaway from the group, and stay away, only to see the stage go to another man, Luis Leon Sanchez. It is for the unsung heroes, the domestiques, who work their guts out to deliver their team’s star a victory. It is for the ‘lesser’ teams, those with no real hope of getting a place in the top 20, let alone a jersey of any description, but who ride with as much heart and hardness as the big names. It is for the superstars of the sprints, such as HTC’s Mark Cavendish, and the men of the Basque country, Euskatel-Euskadi, whose famed mountain prowess should come to the fore in the Pyrenees. It is for the most consistent rider wearing the maillot vert, and the innovative rule changes to the intermediate sprint points. It is for the startling individual ability of a man against the clock in the Individual Time Trial, the penultimate stage and ‘race of truth’. Most of all, this is a love letter to the sport, the vainquers and the vanquished; the pundits, ‘roadside randoms’ and fans.

With love and admiration,

Kimberley