class wars

Another story from my cycling days today.

A few years back, cycling was unfortunately a sport where you needed money to compete. A decent bike and clothing fit for racing didn't come cheap.  But worse than that, there was also a bit of an old boy's clique with the fashionable clubs seeing themselves as a cut above smaller clubs like mine.

One Sunday morning before the season started, a young lad who lived near me turned up for our club run. It was clear from the off that Rohan was a special talent.  He could easily keep up with us and although he had no road craft it was obvious he had the ability to do something in  the sport.

class!!

So, when the early season races started we got Rohan to enter some.  We clubbed together to get him some kit and the night before his first race I tuned his heavy, steel bike as best I could and loaned him a pair of lightweight wheels.  One thing he lacked though were proper racing shoes (and the pedals to clip them in to), so he lined up at the start alongside me in his trainers which he strapped onto his pedals.

As soon as the race started Rohan was the target for some horrible bullying.  "What the f*** are you doing here you scruffy c***?" was one particularly bad insult I heard.  "Get off the back of the race" and other such derogatory comments were common place.

I told Rohan to stay close to me and follow every move I followed.  So, when he attacked off the front of the race on the last lap I was surprised.  But nowhere near the level of shock the rest of the bunch experienced as they watched the race disappear up the road.  I was his only team-mate in the race and tried to cover the counter-attacks as best I could and he was only caught within metres of the finishing straight.

He still had the energy to sprint for a top-ten final placing - actually pulling his foot clean out of his training shoe in the effort, and I finished right behind him.

Back at the race HQ we showered and changed and packed our bikes onto my roof rack for the journey home; laughing in the faces of the privileged few who had ridiculed him all day. They weren't laughing back, I can tell you.

Rohan went on to represent Wales at junior level.  He could have stepped up as a senior I'm sure, but after a promising start as an under 23 rider, the lure of a decent job was too much for him to ignore and his cycling days were over.

But I'll never forget that day when we introduced him to the Welsh peloton only for him to leave us all in his wake.  It was a class performance, that's for sure!