So quick did Van der Poel take the lead, TV commentators missed it

Happy New Year. We begin by recalling a wonderful slip-up made by Eurosport T V commentators covering the Besancon cyclo-cross in France on Christmas Eve. The race was won by World cyclo-cross champion Mattieu van der Poel of The Netherlands in his usual trade mark style. 

It was his fifth victory of the week! It was another dominant, faultless performance; a work of art on this trickiest of slippery courses. He confessed to feeling a little tired! Van der Poel beat Toon Aerts, second, and Niels Vandeputte, third, by handsome margins. 

When Van de Poel took the lead on the second lap there was no longer any doubt as to the outcome. Yet at the precise moment the champion attacked to take the lead - a moment we viewers had waited for with baited breath - both commentators missed it! 

You had to sympathise. I’ve made more than few embarrassing cock ups in my time. Still, I was open mouthed in astonishment t hat the commentators - who had been so informative until then – should miss the move. 

 Had some annoying person in production been blathering on in their ear piece? Now I don’t know their names, but they seem to know t heir cycling, and I hate to criticise them, because I wouldn’t be up to the task. 

Mattieu Van der Poel

So what happened? In that race we had delighted in watching how the big man stormed around the course. He ran and leapt over ramps others chose to bunny hop. Like most of the field he dismounted to run the sticky deep muddy sections, but remained in the saddle with his right leg out to scoot the bike along that 45-degree muddy slope, to prevent slippage. 

 Pure poetry in motion, that’s Van de Poel. The others were good to, but not in the same league. Van der Poel didn’t have the best of starts, from the second line on the grid with a dozen riders in front of him. 

The commentators were good at identifying the particular difficulties, such as pointing out that how at one turn there was the risk of sliding out if you chose the shortest line. This was- amply demonstrated by one rider who got all tangled up with his bike. 

 I listened as they explained how riders needed to play their cards right on this course which apparen ly differed to other recent courses in that this was extremely muddy and far more slippery. When it came to overtaking, for instance, they needed to be wary of putting power down in thick mud which could send the back wheel slithering right or left. 

So their attention to this detail made it all he more surprising when they missed the vital move which came just after a right turn on a not so muddy stretch. Van der Poel himself had been making it look so easy, but his body language told you he was clearly making a big effort. He would deftly correct any sudden slide to the left or the right, forcing his machine forward, wrestling with the handlebars to keep the front wheel on track, shoulders fighting forces intent on taking him into the fence by throwing himself right then left to keep upright.

 And then he deftly overtook Aerts in a flash! From there on he moved further and further ahead as the course switched right and left, up and over a bridge, down a lane blessedly smooth, before once again diving into oozing mud, made worse each lap, the ground churned up by 50 pairs of wheels and feet. 

Ah, but I get ahead of myself. H ow come the commentators missed the moment he t ook Aerts? It came as the second lap drew to a close after some 15 minutes of racing. At that point, Aerts was still in the lead. But within two minutes all that changed. Immediately behind Alerts was Van der Poel and t hen, a little further back. Vandeputte. All three were close up. All three riding like the wind, a perfect study of athleticism. 

 Suddenly, only Aerts and Van der Poel where in camera shot, as Vandeputte was distanced. On they went, left turn, right turn, dismounting to run up steps, making a slick bike change in the pits, Aerts in front, Van der Poel’s front wheel nosing closer.

 The last thing the commentator said of the live action before him on the screen was to comment on Van der Poel slapping his thigh to get some warmth into it. Seconds later Van der Poel suddenly moved up alongside Aerts, which was not remarked upon by either commentator. ~Van der Poel and Aerts were side by side. 

 At this point I was glued to the screen awaiting the next move, surely an imminent attack by one or the other of the two leaders? But our lead commentator must have taken his eye off the screen, for just before Van der Poel moved level, he chose to address viewers who had just joined the transmission. 

Had someone in production interfered and told him he needed to give a detailed account of race positions? Whatever, the commentator broke off to welcome viewers who had just joined the transmission. He told them Aerts was leading Van de r Poel and t hen he set about reading out all the names that were following, from fourth down to 20th place! 

 Our commentator was naming the guy trailing in sixth place when Van der Poel surged into th e lead at last. If you blinked y ou missed it. Both commenters missed it. One of them, surely, might have poked the other in the ribs? 

But hold on, maybe the woman commentator had been called away momentarily because she was silent. Anyway, her compatriot made no comment as the world champion took the lead from Aerts who was now second and Vandeputte still in third. 

Now I like to hear commentators wax lyrical at such moments, inject their own excitement, carry the moment. I want to hear them comment on the action, as you would when someone scores a goal. `And yet the move we were waiting and had expected for some time went completely unnoticed by our experts. 

I was reminded of a story a football sports colleague told me, about an England – Italy international at Wembley. 

 IT CONCERNED A DRINKS WAITER WHO HAD ENTERED THE PRESS AREA IN THE STANDS CARRYING A TRAY OF DRINKS. HE DROPPED THE LOT AND THE CRASH CAUSED EVERY REPORTERS’ HEAD TO SWIVEL ROUND TO SEE WHAT HAD HAPPENED. JUST AS THE GOAL WAS SCORED. SO NOT ONE MEMBER OF THE CREAM OF EUROPE’S PRESS SAW THE BALL GO IN! BUT THE WAITER DID. AND HE BECAME SURROUNDED BY A SCRUM OF SCRIBES QUIZZING HIM ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ON THE PITCH. 

Anyway, back to the defining moment in the ‘cross. Our commentator , for reasons best known to himself – perhaps he was under orders from the production staff in his ear piece – had chosen to fill us in with the position of the next 20 riders. 

 He’d got to about sixth when Van de Poel shot ahead and I fully expected him to break in and shout “Aha, there he goes, the champ has gone” or something of that order. 

But so taken was he with his list of numbers, nose buried in his notebook, he wasn’t to be distracted by the race winning move on the screen in front of him. No, instead he rabbited on with another 15 names and the time gaps. As if we cared at that point? 

Meanwhile, the television was showing the magnificent Van de Poel in total command of the race, at the front in the slippery conditions, powering to victory. 

And then, also rans dealt with, commentator r et urned o the present and focused on the screen. He began describing how Van de Poel was surging ahead without once giving away the fact that he had missed the vital move moments before which had put him the lead in the first place, the race defining moment. It was as if it never happened.