United Nations of Awesome. Boombah! Or, as we like to pretend that the Italians say, Opahhh! So the last post I put through (earlier today) was 16km from the finish, and included a series of “hopefullys” all of which came to pass, meaning we won today! A great result for the team, and a super performance by the team.
We knew that the finish was a little tricky, so got as much info back to the big bosses on the road as we could, meaning that the boys could plan their attack well.
With big drives from Aussie wunderkind, and loose cannon, Jack Bobridge for large parts of the early stage to help control the break, we then had Canadian hard man Svein Tuft not only assist Jack in controlling things, but also driving the race so hard that it was too fast for people to make decisive moves.
Then came the icing on the cake: Murilo Fischer, Brazil’s finest export since Giselle Bundchen, took the pace to the next level, so even indecisive moves became impossible, and gave our final three bullets a good platform to do their work.
David Millar then drove the race for well over a kilometre at warp speed (that’s over 60kph without an engine, on the flat for those who don’t understand the technical parlance) through a couple of decidedly dicey chicanes and corners (kudos to the recon crew!) (Love a self-congratulatory back pat)
And then came the cherry on the icing on the cake! Julian Dean, cult hero for the third of the New Zealand population who live in the UK, who account for the mystery “other third” of the whole Kiwi population (there are equal numbers of New Zealanders in Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs (particularly Bondi), Europe and New Zealand for those who don’t know) hit out for home up the hill, into the wind and around a tight corner.
He was preparing things for our token bloodnut, the American sprinter and genuinely good bloke Tyler, but was doing such a good job that he left the whole field behind.
With 200m to go, it looked like Jules was half a chance of pinching the win himself. Tyler certainly thought so, because he was looking around so much I had to treat his neck this evening for whiplash (not really).
Eventually it became obvious that Jules wasn’t quite going to make the line without being caught, so Tyler powered ahead to take the win, with an Italian second, and Jules third.
So there you have it: an Aussie, a Canuck, a Brazilian, a Pom and a Kiwi all combined brilliantly so an American could beat an Italian! Complete gold.
The next stage is a ludicrous 270-odd kilometres, and is particularly lumpy. After the previous heroics, we’ll see what our boys can muster. Hopefully Irishman Dan Martin can get himself in a break and do some damage. We shall see.
