The Tour de France is not just about the winners. There are other
heroes. Among them the domestiques. Men like the late Paul Sherwen.
His
unexpected and untimely death from a heart attack at the age of 62
last December
came as a great shock to all who knew him.
Men like
Sherwen are the backbone of a team. They are employed primarily to be of service
of their team leader, to pace them back to the race after puncturing, to shield
them from the wind, to mark rivals, burn themselves out in the lead-out train
in the closing kilometres. Except
sometimes these guys make the headlines.
Their suffering is often overlooked, but it provides
another perspective on Le Tour, on the long and often dangerous journey around
France, through the Alps and Pyrenees.
I have two stories about two such heroes from the
1985 Tour, about guys who crashed and against all the odds struggled on to
finish. One is about Sherwen as the Tour
approached the Alps. The other is about Holland’s Adri Wijnands who several stages
later crashed on the approach to the Pyrenees.
First, Sherwen.
In 1976, aged 19, Sherwen rode for Altrincham Road Club. He
won Britain’s season-long Star Trophy series. His biggest successes included the
National road title also the
Manx
International and the Archer Pernod GP plus two stages in the Tour of Malaga.
When he went to France he joined the Paris ACBB and
scored a number of high profile amateur wins.
He turned professional in 1978 riding for Fiat under
Raphaël Géminiani, before moving to the La Redoute team.
In 1982 he finished third in the Tour du Haut-Var, won by Sean
Kelly. And also won a stage win in the season-opening Tour of the
Mediterranean.
In 1983 he was second overall in the Four Days of Dunkirk, winning
one stage.
In 1985 he had made the biggest headlines of his
life with a heroic ride in the 1985 Tour, his last appearance in this greatest
of races.
It was a feat recalled in the many tributes paid
Sherwen.
Here’s is the report I filed at the time.
1985 Tour: Stage 10, Epinal to Pontarlier, 204.5km
(127 miles)
This is a story about a heroic Englishman and an
angry German whose troubles began at the start of this long, fast stage. The
hero was Paul Sherwen, the angry German, Didi Thurau.
Their unrelated problems made the news on a day when
there was no change to the top overall positions, despite seven climbs, with
the toughest at the end, a second-category climb to the finish seven kilometres
from the valley floor.
Sherwen, one of the most trusted and hard-working
domestique in the business, crashed heavily in the first kilometre in Epinal.
He hurt his back and was a few minutes on the ground before re-starting.
Because of the high speed set by race leader Bernard
Hinault (La Vie Claire), determined to seal a famous fifth overall victory, the
race fairly rushed the first two climbs, a third and fourth category, in the
opening 20 kilometres. The frantic pace
doomed Sherwen to never regain the field.
He was so hurt that neither could he stay the pace
with two La Redoute team-mates sent back to get him. It was a measure of the
team’s regard for the Englishman that these two helpers were former world
pursuit champion Alain Bondue and another rated Frenchman, Regis Simon.
The pair were forced to abandon Sherwen after 85
kilometres when it became clear that all three of them would finish outside of
the time limit and be eliminated.
Save yourselves, Sherwen told them, a domestique to
the last, always thinking of others.
And so Bondue and Simon rode Hell for leather to
spare themselves from the clutches of the broom wagon.
At the finish we began formulating our day’s stories
all the while waiting for Sherwen to arrive. When after an hour he still hadn’t
shown, we began the drive back down the mountain road to the press room, when
suddenly the evacuation halted.
A long, long time after Jorgen Pedersen (Carrera)
had won the stage, the crowds and traffic blocking the descent off the mountain
heard whistles shrill. They parted in waves as a lonely gendarme motard
outrider appeared. And then the roadside crowds, making their way home, broke into
spontaneous applause and cheers at the sight of the tortured vision winging
towards them. Cries “bravo Sherwen” rang
out.
It was unbelievable, he was still riding: six hours
chasing, most of it alone.
Like everyone else on the descent, our car pulled
over to let him continue the five kilometres to the summit.
We’d all waited a long time hoping to see him finish
and then left to get down to the press room, convinced he’d packed.
Not Sherwen.
We should have known better. Sherwen doesn’t give up
easily, even when he must have known he would finish so far down he would be
eliminated. According to the rules he should have been.
Wim Jeremiasse of Holland, a member of the International
Jury, gave us reason to hope, saying: “He finished 23 minutes outside the time
limit and the jury are deliberating because of the exceptional circumstances.
It may be a good decision.”
A few minutes later, he returned to tell us:
“Sherwen will not be disqualified. He can stay in the race. The points in his
favour were that he crashed in the first kilometre, when the speed of the race
was high. He was trying to the end, and his passage up the climb to the finish
was blocked with traffic.”
Sherwen’s Director Sportif, Raphael Geminiani had
waited like a father for a lost son on the finish line.
When the shattered, bedraggled Sherwen struggled
across the line in a near state of collapse, Geminiani, the big Frenchman, a
former star himself, threw his arms about Sherwen and in a show of emotion tore
his ripped jersey off his back and helped him into a fresh one, saying: “Here,
this is your very own Maillot Jaune.”
As for Didi Thurau, his fate also rested with the
International Race Jury.
But for him there was only one possible decision. He
was instantly disqualified from the Tour de France and fined 1,125 Francs.
The 30-year-old from Frankfurt, yellow jersey holder
for 14 days in the 1977 Tour, had that morning assaulted an official!
Thurau has been upset from being docked a one-minute
penalty in the time trial on stage 8, after slipstreaming France’s Charly
Mottet who had caught and passed the German.
At the start of stage 10 he had asked the chairman
of the jury, Raymond Trine of Belgium, why Mottet hadn’t been penalised as
well, because Mottet had also taken turns pacing.
So far so good. But then it went pear-shaped for
Thurau, because he then grabbed Trine by the throat and shook him, saying, it
was alleged, “I will put you in hospital.”
At which point whistles blew for the start and
riders mounted their bikes and everyone else bolted for the cars.
It wasn’t until after the stage finish that the
commissaires were able to meet and apply Regulation 24: a fine and instant
disqualification with no warning.
The rest of the stage details pale into
insignificance compared to those two stories. But nevertheless, when we remind
ourselves of the action at the head of the race, Sherwen’s epic chase looks all
the more remarkable.
There was the attack by France’s Pascal Simon
(Peugeot)
in pursuit of an eight-man break which had done
clear after 138 kilometres and had gained over four minutes on the peloton by
kilometre 160.
Simon’s move sparked a reaction from Hinault who
upped the pace to eventually bring him back before he could reach the breakaway
which stayed clear, albeit losing four men on the final climb. The stage was won by Jorgen Pedersen of
Denmark, while all the favourites finished in a 26-man chasing group. Besides
Hinault, the other major contenders included Scotland’s Robert Millar, who in
1984 became the first Brit to win one of the three major overall titles in a grand
tour, the mountains classification. He also finished fourth final overall, the
highest placing by a Brit until Bradley Wiggins equalled this in 2009, before
his history making overall victory in 2012.
And also in that elite group was Spain’s Pedro
Delgado, winner of the Tour of Spain, who would win the Tour in 1988.
And what of
Sherwen? He’d recovered by the following
morning when the British press sought him out to congratulate him.
“You’re taking the Mickey,” he grinned. No we’re
not, we said, and we presented him with a bottle of Champagne to prove it.
“Well, thanks very much guys,” he said, looking
quite abashed.
“This is my last Tour and I didn’t want to finish by
being eliminated.”
Then he quipped: “I thought I’d treat it as if I was
riding a 12-hour!”
NEXT Blog: Wijnands 50mph crash.
