As Wales' Geraint Thomas battles to defend his Tour de France title from France's two stars Alaphillipe and Pinot, both striving to bring the host nation its first victory since Bernard Hinault in 1985, I am reminded of a smaller but nonetheless impressive showcase moment, at a UK Star Trophy road race in the 1980s.
Unlike on Le Tour where virtually every move can usually only be seen on TV by the press corps I was able to see the action I am about to recall in the flesh, so to speak.
This was on the Tour of Peak, a small race by comparison. But nonetheless, one of the toughest races in the UK at the time. I was watching the master, Paul Curran in action, from our press car just behind the field. He had with him his tactically astute team mate Pete Longbottom.
One or two press cars on the Peak; 100s of them on Le Tour!
Occasionally you may be allowed close enough to see the action close-up on Le Tour , for a while. But clearly priority is given to the tv and press photographers and essential support vehicles, a lot of traffic.
Which is why tv is indispensable on Le Tour. No other way to report the action.
It's different on smaller races. Even smaller pro stage races, such as Paris-Nice, when you can usually get closer.
But this story is not about the Continent, but about a top British amateur race and the mastery of
Paul Curran when he was in unbeatable form. Curran was always a good story. You just had
to wait to see how he played it.
The
Cleveland international was a multi track and road champion, dominating the Star Trophy road race series. In
1986 he won two Commonwealth Games gold medals, in the Team Time Trial and Road
Race, and the following year he won the national road title.
Here’s a
typical scenario of how and he and his Manchester Wheelers team dictated
matters
in the Peak. A small breakaway had established itself about a
minute ahead on the first of two big circuits based on the Snake Pass.
After
descending from the summit first time around, Curran escaped the bunch alone
with seeming ease. He chased for several miles until he had the breakaway in
his sights. Then he sat up.
What was he
doing?
Just taking a look?
He was checking them
out.
In fact, one look from a few hundred yards behind told Curran all he needed to know – the three
in the break were not making much headway, their lead at about one minute. So he
let them be – for a while. Let them cook. He’d have them back
when he was ready!
Curran sat
up and waited for the bunch. So did we in the press car!
Some 30 miles later, with the leading trio still only about a minute ahead, and on the second ascent of the
Snake, we saw Curran attack hard. This time for real.
He went
clear alone. All his rivals in the bunch
knew that they, too, must join Curran if they were to be in with a chance of
winning. Easier said than done. Especially with Curran’s wily teammate Pete Longbottom
marking them.
We watched and waited behind them.
Half-way up
the Snake, when Curran was a dot dancing up the slope in the far distance, a
rider attacked out of the bunch.
It was
Longbottom! Taken by surprise, Curran’s
rivals responded, forcing the bunch into one long line, snaking up the Snake in
pursuit.
It took them
a mile to reel in Longbottom, by which time they had reached the summit where
Longbottom sat up, job done. The bunch, perhaps wondering what had hit them, also eased.
By which time
Curran was out of the sight on the descent.
His
challengers had been had!
Longbottom had successfully pre-empted
their expected counter attack by acting first. He’d drawn their sting on the
last decent place to make a counter-attack.
Stymied the opposition after which they seemed unable to organise an effective chase.
At which point we, too, left the bunch and drove across to Curran. We watched him sail across to the break alone. And on the steep gradient of Winnats Pass
some miles later, he surged ahead alone for the final miles for a splendid lone victory
And I was lucky to see this for myself, not on the tele. Which is why it stays so fresh in the mind.
