By Jonathan horn

A u s t r A l i A ’ s h o p e s o f A t o u r d e

f r A n c e w i n n e r r e s t

y e t A g A i n w i t h c A d e l

e vA n s . B u t i t w o n ’ t h A p p e n .

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Cadel Evans – left for dead on the stage to Verbier in the Tour de France last year. “I had a terrible day. I need to see the doctor now.”

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t the plush Swiss ski resort of Verbier, a lacklustre 2009 Tour explodes into life. Until now, the

event has essentially been a game of cat and mouse – almost a snoozefest. The fans, many of them shirtless and many more legless, have camped out for days for what looms as the decisive stage of the Tour. Also in town is a turtle-necked, toe-tapping ensemble of classical music fans. They’re here for the annual Verbier music festival. The contrasts with the cycling booze hounds couldn’t be starker.

There’s plenty of contrasts on the road as well. Over there, in black and yellow, head down, shoulders hunched, is the man voted by many as the finest athlete of his generation. Lance Armstrong is back in the harness after more than a thousand days away from his pet event. The Texan is unusually lean and ripped – his legs look like a street directory. It’s a new Armstrong – relaxed, convivial and mischievous. The days of the siege mentality seem long gone. He never looks pretty on a bike, but you don’t conquer cancer and the world’s toughest sporting event with aesthetics.

Flanking him is the Spanish superstar Alberto Contador – impish faced, super-cocky and ready to put on a show. While Charles Dutoit is conducting Vivaldi further up the mountain, Contador is about to conduct a climbing clinic.

And then there’s Cadel Evans, his face straining, his body shot, his excuses running out. His features, his riding style, his post-race grabs, are all decidedly blue-collar. He’s the back pocket to Armstrong’s ruck-rover and Contador’s centre half-forward. And his Tour de France – and everything he’s been working towards since he was tearing it up on mountain bikes – is about to go up in flames.

At high altitude, with a tick over five kilometres to go, Contador unleashes an astonishing attack that leaves everyone around him flat-footed. Even the race motorbikes struggle to keep up. He looks like a man sprinting on the flat. As he crosses the line, he fires an imaginary pistol and looks like he would barely blow out a candle. Ninety seconds later, Evans falls over the line on the verge of tears.

Contador is joined on the podium by a rather bemused-looking St Bernard dog, a legend in these parts for having spearheaded upwards of 50 alpine rescues. Following the ceremony, the dog starts howling and throws a major tanty. Metres away, Cadel also sounds like he’s about to weep. He’s whimpering and shaking. Finally he spits out: “From kilometre zero, I was having possibly one of the worst days of my Tour de France career. I had a terrible day. I need to see the doctor now. I don’t know what the problem is.”

the problem for Cadel Evans, among other things, was Alberto Contador. As good as Evans’ engine is (he boasts the highest ever recorded VO2 Max at the Australian Institute of Sport), he was not in the same stratosphere as the winner. Evans will never win a Tour de France while the Spaniard is even remotely near his best. Contador is 2-1-on to win this year’s event – suicidal yet justifiable odds. To put that in perspective, a Tiger Woods at the peak of his powers, in a similar-sized field, was usually about 3-1 to win any of golf’s majors.

Contador carries himself in a manner that leaves you in no doubt that he agrees with the odds. And he comes with more than a hint of scandal. Former winner Greg LeMond witnessed his acceleration at Verbier and described it as beyond the realms of usual human capability. “There is something wrong – I would }

Lance Armstrong [l] and Contador on the attack on the way to Verbier.

Alberto Contador, with his pistol, had Cadel Evans shot at Verbier in ‘09.

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like to see what’s under the hood.”Nevertheless, he’ll be back this year and

has signalled that he’ll be putting all his eggs in the Tour de France basket. Quite simply, Evans doesn’t have a prayer – but for the remote hope that the reigning champion will go flying off the side of a mountain or be led away by men in white labcoats.

But superhuman Spaniards aside, there are other issues at play here. The biggest question: is Evans emotionally equipped to win a Tour de France?

He’s a different cat, that’s for sure. Labelling someone who rides their bike for six hours a day a “complex character” is probably stretching things a bit. Evans is more Lleyton Hewitt than Andre Agassi. But he is a mass of contradictions and remains a difficult one to pigeonhole. And undoubtedly, his quirks and shortcomings have worked against him in the past. Rather than a shot of EPO, perhaps a chill pill is more in order.

His public image isn’t great. Lance Armstrong mastered the art of slogging hundreds of kilometres through the Pyrenees, through rain and sleet, with thousands of spectators hurling abuse at him – whilst still coming across as witty and expansive and, every now and then, endearing. Evans isn’t made for the ten-

second grab. He sounds about 50 times more knackered and irritated than any other rider in the peloton. Occasionally he comes across as plain churlish. Yet everybody who’s close to him says the same thing – “He’s a really nice, relaxed, funny guy, completely at odds with his public persona.” Friend and former team-mate, Robbie McEwen, concurs. “He’s not as closed a book as you might think. It’s just that the cameras tend to put him off.”

They sure do. It came to a head in 2008, when he had several much-publicised blowouts. SBS’s Mike “One Take” Tomalaris copped a quick jab and a menacing “Don’t touch me!” after congratulating him on assuming the yellow jersey. Even more cringe-worthy was his “Don’t stand on my dog or I cut your head off” bark when

some bozo inadvertently stood on his four-legged companion, Molly.

Up to a point, his tetchiness is understandable. Witness the way cyclists are harassed and how their personal space is invaded following each stage and you can almost forgive them for throwing the odd wobbly. But the incidents were still insights into a man at the end of his tether, in an event that demands patience and a cool head. Indeed, Armstrong and Contador garner more media attention and jersey tugging than Evans – yet both generally handle it with aplomb.

Evans is a worrier. Concerns and beefs and “what ifs” line his lived-in face. All the articles, well-wishers and half-baked advice seem to irk him. And there’s a stack of it. His career has coincided with a rapid spike in Australian interest in the race. Punters who didn’t know Mont Ventoux from Monty Burns were suddenly charting his progress through blurry eyes and pontificating as to his prospects over the water cooler. Problem is, Evans seems to have taken the weight of expectation very much onboard. Barely an interview (if you can call them that) goes by without him touching on the pressure he has to bear. Pressure this. Unlucky that. So far, so good. Leave me alone. Let me do my thing. }

Evans the winner at the Fleche Wallone this year. right Evans the worrier.

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Aussie Silence Lotto team-mate Matthew Lloyd relates a tale in Evans’ book, Close To Flying, that says a lot. “By the time that he tended to all the things that needed doing after each stage, Cadel had worked himself into such a state that there were a few times when I couldn’t understand what he was talking about. He would come into the room staring at the result sheet and mumble a few words in English about the GC rankings. He was so distracted by the rankings that he failed to articulate what was on his mind.” In other words: paralysis by analysis. A man who almost wants it too much.

If only his team-mates had the same problem. Even those with a cursory knowledge of grand tour cycling understand the importance of having a strong team. Lance Armstrong always had a loyal batch of lieutenants who would do anything for him. They’d cuddle him up, dictate the pace of the peloton and ride themselves into the ground – all for the sake of The Boss. Together with team manager Johan Bruyneel, Armstrong would handpick prospective team-mates with the eye and the ruthlessness of a Wall Street headhunter. And he’d make a point of thanking them when he won. His comment, “My team-mates do all the work – I just ride the last few kilometres alone,” pretty much sums up both his career and the vagaries of the race for the General Classification.

Cadel Evans has never been as shrewd or as blessed. When it comes to negotiating contracts and enlisting the help of half-decent domestiques, he’s never taken sufficient steps to put himself in an outfit that will support his lofty aspirations. His critics point to his introverted personality to explain his

inability to impose himself and build an entire team around him. Others point to his background as a mountain biker – a solitary sport where teamwork isn’t paramount – as to why he’s f lown solo so often. And some even point towards his upbringing in the Northern Territory, where he grew up in isolation, didn’t get to participate in team sports and very early on defined himself as a lone wolf.

Silence Lotto did him no favours. It was always going to be problematic being }

As a lead-out man for gun sprinter Mark Cavendish, Renshaw is one of the most important men in the peloton. Cavendish won six stages last year and in all of them he stared at Renshaw’s wheel for the better part of five hours, who cuddled him up and then propelled him like a missile in the final few hundred metres. “I trust Renshaw’s wheel,” the phlegmatic Brit told journalists.

If Cadel Evans reckons he’s unlucky, he has nothing on The Dodger. Rogers has had a wretched run over the years – busted bones, Epstein-Barr virus, you name it. But he’s in career-best form in 2010 and following a win at the Tour of California he looms as a genuine top-five chance.

mark renshaw1

michael rogers2

Evans’ teams have always been there in numbers, but rarely in spirit.

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aussies in the hunt

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the main man at the Belgian-centric team. The different languages and competing interests would always muddy the waters. But so would complete incompetence. Quite simply, his team-mates weren’t worth a cracker. The Ukrainian Yaroslav Popovych was drafted in with the sole aim of carting Evans towards victory in France. He’d played the quintessential selfless role for Armstrong for so many of his victories, but at Silence Lotto he was a fizzer. As a result, the Aussie was left isolated, exhausted and at the mercy of well-organised and cohesive teams.

Pressed for his thoughts when the 2009 route was announced, Evans paused, scratched his chin and said, “It suits a strong team.” And so it would prove, with Lotto’s inept performance at the team time trial setting the tone for the

rest of the Tour. By the end of last year’s event they didn’t even bother pretending to help him and Evans signalled his intention to jump ship.

But his decision to join BMC Racing was baffling. At first glance it looked like he’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. On paper, they look nothing more than a team of up-and-comers with dubious climbing credentials. You can then throw a sprinkling of convicted dopers into the mix. At the Giro they were adequate at best. Up-and-comers are good when you have years to cultivate and preen them as you see fit. At 33 years of age, Evans simply doesn’t have that luxury.

It’s telling that his finest hour, last year’s World Championship win in Switzerland, came courtesy of some very solid teamwork and grunt from his }

Richie who? That was the reaction of most Aussie sports fans when the former Tasmanian triathlete (pictured above) assumed the Maglio Rosa (Leader’s Jersey) in this year’s Giro d’ Italia. But Porte is a super climber and a young man going places fast. With so many stars in the CSC fold, he’ll mainly play a support role this month, but he’s definitely one to watch.

McEwen is the quintessential sprinter – brash, combative, explosive and unpredictable. Unlike the current Sprint King Mark Cavendish, he’s never needed a lead-out train to cart him to victory. He missed last year with injury but is back and firing and itching to give the New Kid on the Block a run for his money.

robbie mcewen3

stuart o’grady4

allan davis5

richie porte6

Like Renshaw, Davis has a massive task to perform this July – as domestique to the hot favourite Contador. But he‘s no mere whipping boy, as his three stage wins and Green Jersey at January’s Tour Down Under proved. Davis has endured several frustrating seasons with injury and illness, but a new team and a new lease of life auger well for the 29-year-old.

O’Grady has done it all. He’s won on the velodrome, over cobbles, over mountains and on the flat. He’s finished runner-up in the points classification on four occasions and worn the Yellow Jersey. This may well prove to be his swansong, but you can still expect him to be at the front of the peloton, pushing the wind for his more highly fancied team-mates.

Compared to Evans, Tour star Carlos Sastre looks like he does it easy.

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fellow Australians. Michael Rogers, Stuart O’Grady and Simon Gerrans drove the field hard, protected him and basically did everything that Silence Lotto had neglected to do. It’s noteworthy as well that his finest hour came when the weight of expectation was at its lowest.

Cadel evans is fond of telling us how unlucky he’s been. It’s one of his most consistent themes. And indeed he has been. He lost the 2007 and 2008 Tours by a combined total of 81 seconds. He’s

raced against and been beaten by cheats and frauds. Some have been exposed, some not. And he’s had more than his fair share of injuries and nasty spills – in particular when he was brought down by Gorka Verdugo (whose name in his native Basque translates literally into “the executioner”) just when he was poised to take complete control of the 2008 Tour.

But he’s had his windows of opportunity. That 2008 Tour in particular was the one that got away. Yes, he was injured and yes, he was caught in a four-man script against

the scarily efficient CSC Team. Indeed, look at any photos from the third week and Evans is grimacing, out of his saddle and seemingly shot to bits, while the CSC threesome of the Schleck brothers and Carlos Sastre look like they’re out on a Sunday jaunt.

But he still had his chances – and he didn’t take them. He was expected to better Sastre in the penultimate stage, the all-important time trial. He fell short. The man who wore yellow into Paris time trials about as well as he speaks English. Their time-trialling abilities aside, Sastre is like a carbon copy of Evans – he’s Cadel with a Spanish accent, a cooler head, a bigger nose, a better team and a little more luck. And when it mattered most, he stepped up.

Evans’ critics claim he’s tactically bereft and not proactive enough. When he made an aborted attack in Andorra last year, he was widely (and perhaps unfairly) derided for both his lack of timing and inability to read the race’s patterns. Even the feisty French sports daily L’Equipe chimed in: “Unbelievable! Cadel Evans attacked on the climb to Andorra yesterday. Oh!”

But this sells him short. As he proved at the World Championships last year, he can spot an opportunity and pounce when the time is right. It’s his decision making off the bike that’s questionable. His decision

to enter this year’s Giro d’Italia (for the first time in eight years) is a case in point. It smacked of a man who doesn’t believe he’s capable of winning the Tour de France. It takes a sublime talent to win them both. The men who have done the Giro-Le Tour double - like Eddy Merckx, Jacques Anquetil, Alberto Contador, Miguel Indurain and Bernard Hinault – are giants of the sport. Evans, solid as he is, just isn’t in their league.

What’s more, the Giro is a dangerous, chaotic, mud-caked, gut-busting affair. There’s unpaved roads, crashes galore and a high attrition rate. As world champion and one of the race favourites, you get no peace. Rather than being a tune-up, it reeked of a man who had already conceded the Lap of

France to Contador and who was pinning his hopes on the lesser of the two events.

have we asked too much of Cadel Evans? Granted, he’s a remarkably brave athlete. His ability to suffer is unusual, even by cycling’s masochistic standards. You could never accuse him of squibbing it. He leaves nothing on the course. And the 2009 Tour aside, his career is a model of consistency. World champion, twice runner-up at the Tour de France – it reads pretty well.

But the days of honest toilers like Carlos Sastre and Evans winning in France may be coming to an end. As Alberto Contador proved last year, you need a ruthlessly efficient team and a full complement of gears to win the Tour de France these days. Notwithstanding the fact that last year’s winner is just 27 and still learning his trade, there’s a new breed of stars emerging. Many of them are from Olympic track backgrounds and are blessed with the requisite raw power and supreme confidence.

The race is changing and the pugnacious Aussie is in danger of being left behind. For a man who’s put so much pressure on himself to win the Tour de France, it will be a hard thing to contend with. At 33, the clock’s ticking for Cadel Evans ... Tick-tock, tick-tock. n

The fiery Cooke (pictured above) seems to have been around forever. He’s best known for clinching the 2003 Green Jersey with a stunning win on the Champs-Elysees, but the last few years have been lean, with eight crashes last year derailing any hopes of making an impact. He’s another Aussie pinning his hopes on a new team – Saxo Bank – to reignite his career.

The winner of the prestigious Bay Cycling Classic, Sutton has bigger fish to fry in France. As a member of the new British outfit Team Sky, he’s principally charged with pulling for Bradley Wiggins, but the 25-year-old will be hoping he can sneak away and pinch a stage win. As he proved with three consecutive wins at the Herald Sun Tour last year, he’s ferocious in a sprint finish and tactically wise beyond his years.

chris sutton8

baden cooke9

simon gerrans7

The 30-year-old was a shock last-minute omission from last year’s Tour. He doesn’t have the public profile of some of the other Aussies, but he‘s the only Australian to win stages at all three grand tours and he’s one of the best climbers/grinders around. A new team, Credit Agricole, should provide him with the respect and support he deserves.

Evans’ decision to tackle the Giro d’Italia smacked of desperation.

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