Moving upward, premature balding seems to be relatively common among professional cyclists, perhaps due to naturally high testosterone levels (in some cases, the male hormone may have been artificially enhanced), others maintain this is due to the heat build-up under shell helmets. Facial hair is a no-no for racing cyclists, but this is because of the amount of sweat, snot and sticky race food involved rather than aerodynamics.
Moustaches were relatively common in the Heroic EraâEugène Christophe was nicknamed “the Gaul” and then “the Old Gaul” because of his drooping Asterix-style 'taches. Now, however, long hair, beards, and moustaches tend to be the mark of nonconformists, such as American wild man Bob Roll,
who partnered his big beard with Hells Angel jackets and skull-design rings.
The same is true of the ponytails tied with elastic bands worn by LAURENT FIGNON, ROBERT MILLAR, and PHIL ANDERSON in the 1980s. Fignon said his fellow cyclists yelled at him that he looked like a girl. Millar would get a nasty crewcut every winter, he said, so that he would not want to go to nightclubs. The goatee grown by MARCO PANTANI became a key part of his carefully nurtured “bad-boy' image as the “Pirate.” The most fearsome beard cycling has ever seen was fictional, however: the terrifying facial hearthrug sported by the Russian star in the FILM
American Flyers.
HARRIS, Reg
Born:
Bury, England, March 1, 1920
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Died:
Macclesfield, England, June 22, 1992
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Major wins:
World professional sprint champion 1949, 1950, 1951, 1954; amateur world sprint champion 1947; seven British national titles; Olympic silver medallist sprint and tandem sprint, London 1948
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Catchphrase:
“Reg rides a Raleigh”
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Further viewing:
DVD:
Maestro
, 1985
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In the 1950s and 1960s any cyclist seen pedaling at speed in a British town might draw the sarcastic comment: Who do you think you are, Reg Harris? That reflected the public profile of the man who was the country's best-known cyclist in the postwar years. Harris achieved national fame for taking four world professional sprint titles between 1949 and 1954 after managing a brace of silver medals at the London Olympics in 1948 in spite of a series of injuries in the buildup.
He was voted British sportsman of the year in 1950 and was involved in one of cycling's most curious comebacks in his 50s. His notoriety at home surpassed even world road
champion TOM SIMPSON, who was actually more famous in FRANCE and Belgium than in the UK. There is even a story that the sprinter himself was once stopped for running a red light and asked by police whether he thought he was Reg Harris: his reply is not recorded.
Harris began his working life at 14 as a motor mechanic in his native Lancashire and raced as an amateur in the prewar years, working in a paper mill in winter, supporting himself from prize money over the summer. In 1939 he traveled to the world track championship in Milan, only to be recalled on the outbreak of war. A tank driver in North Africa for the 10th Hussars, he was wounded in a German attack that wiped out all the rest of his tank crew and was deemed unfit to fight in 1943 due to his burns. He got back on his bike to rehabilitate after his injuries and a year later won three national championships on the track. He turned professional after the London Games and his battles with the Dutchman Arie Van Vliet on the indoor velodromes of Europe were legendary (see RIVALRIES). The late 1940s and early 1950s were one of track racing's boom times, with vast crowds flocking to venues such as the VÃLODROME D'HIVER in Paris, Fallowfield in Manchester, and Milan's Velodromo Vigorelli: Van Vliet and Harris were always at the top of the bill. He retired in 1957 but returned to racing in 1971 and took a bronze medal in the British championships. The story goes that Harris went to prepare at the Meadowbank stadium in Edinburgh and was asked by a young official “Have you ridden on a track before?” Harris replied that he had, but the blazer would not give up: “Have you ridden on a proper track like this?” Finally, someone asked Harris who he was. He followed up with gold in 1974 when he was 54 years old.
Like many successful cyclists, he was unable to match his sporting prowess in business: a bike-making venture failed, and he ended up as a salesman. He is now remembered with a fine statue in the Manchester velodrome in bronze by the sculptor James Butler.
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(SEE ALSO
TRACK RACING
)
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HELMETS
Helmets became compulsory in professional racing from May 2003, although initially riders were allowed to remove them at the start of the final climb to a mountain top finishâwhere the climb was more than five kilometers longâwhich led to the bizarre sight of the entire field bunging their hats at team helpers as they sped onto mountains like l'Alpe d'Huez. That short-lived exception ended in 2005.
The initial resistance was partly cultural, partly macho. Helmets had been rapidly made mandatory for MOUNTAIN-BIKE racing in the late 1980s because of the risks involved and because they had been part of the sport from the beginning.
European road cyclists had used “skid-lids” made of leather strips since the early days; they were of no use whatsoever in a direct impact but might prevent abrasions. FAUSTO COPPI was ridiculed for wearing one on the orders of his wife after the death from head injuries of his brother Serse in 1951. They were obligatory in Belgium and GREAT BRITAIN; in many other countries such as FRANCE you raced bareheaded.
Polystyrene shell helmets came from America in the 1970s. They acted as an outer “crumple zone” to protect the skull in an impact, with either a stiff
outer polycarbonate layer or thin netting to protect the shell. Europeans mistrusted these initial models from companies like Bell, even though they were used by sensible types like GREG LEMOND and PHIL ANDERSON and teams such as 7-Eleven. They were seen as a cultural imposition rather than common sense.
About 1990, helmets began to use a thinner shell due to improvements in the molding process; recent years have seen improvements in straps and fitting and the introduction of carbon fiber. Thickness pads were used early on; today's helmets have cradles that can be precisely adjusted. They were made compulsory in British racing from 1992.
It seems incredible now, but in 1991 professional cyclists went on strike in protest against a new rule that stipulated they must wear shell helmets in all races. It was early March, the ParisâNice race, and temperatures were still cool; they were worried about how it would feel wearing “big heavy things” on their heads come the heat of summer.
There were calls for helmets to be made obligatory four years later, after the events of July 18, 1995. As the TOUR DE FRANCE peloton descended the narrow, twisting road from the Col de Portet d'Aspet in the Pyrenées, the Olympic champion Fabio Casartelli fell and hit his head on one of the concrete blocks by the roadside. He died from his injuries. His MEMORIAL now stands on the mountainside.
The final decision to make helmet use compulsory came after the Kazakh pro Andrei Kivilev had a fatal accident in March 2003. Now no one has a second thought about wearing them, partly because technology means that helmets have become lighter and better ventilated, partly because two fatal accidents in eight years of pro racing was a strong message.
Helmets have to meet national safety standards. To meet the criteria, helmets are tested by being dropped onto an anvil to imitate what would happen
if a cyclist fell off and hit his or her head on the curb. The level set by the independent Snell Memorial Foundation is generally a little more strict than national standards.
Debate is ongoing over whether helmets should be made compulsory for all cyclists. A 1996 study published in the
British Journal of Sports Medicine
found that while doing this might save cyclists' lives, there was an equally strong case for making helmets obligatory for motorists and pedestrians and that there was “no justification for compelling cyclists to wear helmets without taking steps to improve the safety of all road users.”
Opponents contend that compulsion would discourage cycling by overstating its dangers, and that the overall benefit to health by any reduction in head injuries would be countered by the negative impact on health of people giving up cycling due to the perception that it is dangerous.
Regardless of the law, the arguments for their use are convincing. As British Cycling Federation doctor Chris Jarvis pointed out: while they might not prevent death in the event of a direct collision with a motor vehicle, they are likely to downgrade head damage by one step in most impacts, turning what may have been concussion into a severe headache and what may have been a cracked skull into concussion, and so on.
HEROIC ERA
The term used to describe the preâSecond World War period of road racing, before improved bikes, road surfaces, and sophisticated team tactics made cycling more subtle, less purely physical, and less subject to the vagaries of fortune and the weather. Racing was strongly influenced by TOUR DE FRANCE
organizer HENRI DESGRANGE, who believed the ideal race was one in which no cyclist was able to finish. One reason why the PARISâROUBAIX classic remains fascinating to this day is because it is professional cycling's last throwback to this time.
To create “the most courageous champions since antiquity,” Desgrange banned derailleurs, slowed down technical development, and ran the Tour over inhuman distances culminating in the 5,745 km-long race of 1927. He imposed rules that now seem trivial and that outraged champions such as HENRI PÃLISSIER.
The era is only just outside living memory, but it seems remote, because few color photographs and sparse television footage remain: the image is one of mud-spattered cyclists carrying spare tires on their shoulders, gravelly roads, ill-fitting shorts, clunky-tubed bikes, stoic faces in goggles, rickety cars, and spectators who always seem to be in their Sunday best. The champion who best epitomizes that time is Eugène Christophe of France, known as the “Old Gaul,” who was the first rider to wear the yellow jersey in the Tour (see 180).
As if the demands of the roads of the time were not sufficient, there was no medical backup on the race until 1925, journalists complained about injured riders being left by the roadside after crashes, and officials were implacable. Christophe was not the only victim. The Pelissier brothers' disputes with Desgrange were typical of the frustrations felt by leading cyclists, captured in the celebrated article by Albert Londres in 1924 that led to the Tourmen being nicknamed “Convicts of the Road.”
Mechanical troubles were a universal problem: in the 1919 Tour, one rider, Jean Alavoine, was estimated to have punctured 46 times. He completed his first Tour, in 1910, by carrying his broken bike six miles to the finish line, while the 1928 overall win by Nicolas Frantz of Luxembourg included 55 miles spent on a borrowed lady's bike after his own broke between Metz and Charleville. Saddle boils were common due to woolen clothing and muddy roads; raw steaks might be applied to ease the pain while as late as the 1920s the Tour's ration bags included a dose of neat spirits.
Heroes of the Heroic Era
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Honoré Barthélemy
(France, b. 1890, d. 1964)
The Man with the Glass Eye. In the 1920 Tour de France he lost an eye after it was struck by a flint in a crash, but still finished the race eighth, half-blind and with a broken shoulder and dislocated wrist. He later rode with a glass eye, which he would take out when the roads were too dusty, filling the socket with cotton wool. On one occasion the eye fell out at the finish, and he had to go on his knees to find it.
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Ottavio Bottecchia
(Italy, b. 1894, d. 1927)
In 1924 Bottecchia was the first Italian to win the Tour de France and the first rider to lead the race from beginning to end. Bottecchia died in mysterious circumstances, being found dead on the roadside with head injuries: no one knew whether he fell off due to sunstroke, was murdered by the fascists, or killed by a farmer who was annoyed that he was stealing grapes. A brand of bikes bearing his name is still made today.
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Eugène Christophe
(France, b. 1885, d. 1970)
The “Old Gaul” won the 1910 MilanâSan Remo in horrendous snow, but the incident that made him legendary happened in the 1913 Tour. Christophe was leading the race and set for victory when he was knocked off his bike and broke his forks while descending the Col du Tourmalet. Outside assistance was forbidden, so he made his way on foot to a local blacksmith'sâeight miles awayâand began repairing the fork himself, beginning with plain tubing. At one point, he asked a local boy to use the bellows, because his hands were occupied with the hammer. When he got back on his bike and completed the stage four hours behind the winner, he was docked a further two minutes for accepting help against the rules. A plaque now commemorates the episode. Christophe had a similar problem in the 1919 Tour when he had a 28 minute lead and appeared to be guaranteed overall victory: repairing the fork, again in a roadside forge, cost him two and a half hours.
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François Faber
(Luxembourg, b. 1887, d. 1915)
“The Giant,” born in France but taking the nationality of his Luxembourgois father, had an imposing physique and won several CLASSICS in the years leading up to the First World War; he also took the 1909 Tour. It was a notoriously tough race: 50 of the field went home in the first week due to the appalling weather: gale-force winds and chilling rain that created deep ruts in the poorly made roads. He won five stages in a row, all the way from Roubaix on the Belgian border to Nice on the Mediterranean, and
became massively popular, receiving poems and marriage offers in the mail afterward. He was killed on the Western Front early in the war.
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Gustave Garrigou
(France, b. 1884, d. 1963)
Finished in top five of the Tour de France eight times between 1907 and 1914, winning the 1911 race and taking a total of eight stages. One of the most consistent riders ever, finishing in the first 10 of 96 of the 117 Tour stages he rode. Later Garrigou described the roads in the mountains of the time as “just donkey tracks and I'm being polite” and recalled how he was paid five sovereigns for getting up the Tourmalet without walking.
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Octave Lapize
(France, b. 1887, d. 1917)
Faber's big rival in the 1910 Tour, which was the first to go through the Pyrénees or the Alps. Lapize won that year's race, but entered Tour legend after muttering the words “assassins” at the Tour organizers as he climbed the Col de l'Aubisque, fourth col of the first Pyrénean stage. Lapize was an all-rounder who won ParisâRoubaix three times; but the 1910 Tour was the only one he completed. He quit five times, complaining that the other riders ganged up on him. He became a fighter pilot in the First World War and died after being shot down in a dogfight.
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Lucien Petit-Breton
(France, b. 1882, d. 1917)
Christened Lucien Mazan but raced under an assumed name. Petit-Breton protested angrily when promoters referrred to him as
l'Argentin
after his country of birth. First man to win MilanâSan Remo, and set an early HOUR RECORD, but is best known for winning the 1907 and 1908 Tours, the latter with five stage wins along the way. His first Tour, 1905, was truly bizarre: the race was sabotaged when nails were scattered on the route; Petit-Breton had no tires left so he quit and got the train to Paris, but he was then persuaded to return to the race where he was relegated to last place on the stageâbut he still ended up fifth overall. Like other champions of the time, his life was cut short by the First World War.
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Philippe Thys
(Belgium, b. 1890, d. 1983)
The first man to win the Tour three times, and he would surely have won more had the First World War not intervened. He led the 1914 race from start to finish and won in spite of being fined half an hour for failing to show referees a broken wheel to prove that he had changed a wheel because of an accident. In 1919 he was never outside the first five on any Tour stage and was the first of seven Belgians in the overall standings.