Tag: Nocturne Racing

Soigneurs; they shouldn’t be too young – they have to have lived a bit; they should be mysterious; surrounded by an aura of camphor and early season changing rooms; of few, gruff words; have hands like shovels... but blonde, cute, smiling, chatty, cheerful, Californian – and a woman? That was – and is – Ms. Shelley Verses, the first female to break into the closed world of pro cycling as a soigneur with Motorola, La Vie Claire, Toshiba and TVM.

In the u23 version of Gent-Wevelgem, which is a UCI Nations Cup 1.Ncup rated event, Britain’s Sam Watson beat the cream of Europe’s u23 talent to win a race which boasts the likes of Fons de Wolf, Eddy Planckaert, Niko Eeckhout, Greg Van Avermaet and Mads Pedersen among previous winners.

When I heard it was going to be a bunch sprint at the end of Stage Five, I knew there would only be one winner. The anger would have been boiling inside Cavendish since yesterday; losing that TTT by less than a second would have killed him. The chance for him to be on the podium with his boys - gone. No one was going to get the better of him after that disappointment.

"Argyle Armada" by Mark Johnson takes readers on a journey into the world of professional cycling, specifically focusing on the Garmin-Cervélo team led by Jonathan Vaughters. The book offers a fascinating blend of captivating storytelling, really nice photography, and an exploration of the team's fight against doping, its difficult decisions, and quite a few personal dramas.

The fall (and rise?) of the German Sixes... Rotterdam has been won and lost; and now, so too has Bremen - Home Boys Bartko/Bensch topped the podium from Suisse pair Franco Marvulli/Alexander Aeschbach with the Danes, Jens-Erik Madsen/Marc Hester third. The home win was greatly assisted by a format which dispensed with Dernys and was time trial heavy.

The Skol Six Day 1980, Wembley, London and I'm down to watch those brilliant late night chases, along with Sandy Gilchrist, Phil Griffiths and Stuart Sutherland. We're staying with a larger than life Londoner called Johnny Morris. Griffiths has the patter and the cheek but he he's no match for Johnny - a tousle-haired bear of a man who sells loft conversions and who's greeted as a king when we appear at the Indian restaurant each night, en route back from the Six; with his Jag parked outside at a jaunty angle on the double yellow lines on the corner, just beside the traffic lights. Needless to say, he didn’t get a ticket.