Bradley Wiggins Read Free

cheekily to take the victory for himself? A young prodigy might get away with that for a season in his youth, but the
World Champion at the world’s biggest team would make himself few friends. And you need friends in bike racing or bad things start to happen.
    Stage 1, from Liège to Seraing, would help us find out.
    *
    Fabian Cancellara looks good in yellow. Five prologue wins have delivered him plenty of days in the
maillot jaune
over the years, and his power on the hard roads and
fast stages of the Tour’s first week have often kept him in the front of the race until it meets the mountains. The Swiss hero loves racing in Belgium and northern France, too, as his
dominating victories in the Tour of Flanders and Paris–Roubaix have proved. His grin tops the yellow jersey with pride as the Tour rolls out
en masse
for the first time.
    Bike racing has changed considerably in the last few years. In the old days, races would be packed with lengthy stages that would begin at a leisurely pace before rocketing through the final
hour at a furious speed as the sprinters’ teams vied for supremacy in the final shakedown. These days, bizarrely, the fastest hour is often the first. This is because, with stage wins at such
a premium, everybody is keen to get in ‘the break’. Not
a
break, but
the
break. The second the commissaire’s flag is withdrawn inside the red car at the front to
signify that neutralisation is over and racing can begin, riders begin firing themselves out of the bunch and haring off up the road. The peloton, filled as it is with other riders who want to be
in the break, quickly accelerates to breakneck speeds to bring them back. There are plenty of riders here who have no hope of winning the overall prize and no hope of winning sprint stages, who
will lose out in the time trials and get destroyed in the mountains. What they crave is the chance of a stage victory, getting themselves into a tasty little move, outrunning the bunch and
outfoxing their breakaway companions to taste Tour glory. They will also be doing their hard-pressed teammates a favour, as they can relax in the bosom of the bunch, safe in the knowledge that
their buddy up the road will save them from a day killing themselves at the front to bring it all back.
    Liège on Stage 1 is no different to this pattern, and Cancellara’s RadioShack-Nissan team ride tempo while various hopefuls launch themselves towards Seraing. Those trying to digest
their generous breakfasts in the crowd behind are delighted when things calm down a little sooner than is often the case and the break forms. Six riders, no famous names, no danger to those with
their eye on ultimate glory. After a few moments of jousting with the sextet a handful of yards in front of them, the peloton relents and they gather themselves for a few minutes,
Cancellara’s men ensuring it doesn’t get silly and jeopardise his yellow jersey.
    This morning in the Team Sky bus, Sean Yates had laid out the day’s priorities:
    No crashes.
    Keep Brad safe.
    Put a rider in the break.
    Keep the race together in the final stages for Cav.
    Lead out Cav.
    Give Edvald Boasson Hagen free rein.
    The first week of the Tour de France is a dangerous place to be. People fall off. Dreams are shattered. The best laid plans of mice and bike riders et cetera. When Wiggins hit the deck,
resplendent in his newly acquired GB Champion’s jersey twelve months ago, it was the death of a million hopes for British bike fans, not to mention the man himself, his team and his family.
Crashes happen, but there are things that can be done. It’s safer to ride near the front. It’s better to have your teammates around. And it’s good if it’s not raining.
    If there’s a rider from Team Sky in the break, less work is required from his teammates to chase things down. It’s also an opportunity to win a stage if the move stays clear, or even
a chance to take yellow when time gaps are so narrow at this early