by ajay khandelwal » Wed Jun 28, 2006 3:19 pm
I prepared a report for london cyclesport but I think they had some technical problems with report and not posted it so here it is for the home audience
When it rains I like to come to Hillingdon. Less competition. Perhaps all those fast guys will look out of their office windows and decide to go home. Tonight I was hoping the England football match would have the same effect. Surely, the competition will be down the pub and give me a nice easy time. But no, it was a full field. What?s wrong with these guys, can?t they just have a night off like ordinary people? My wife had told me that she didn?t want to hear about my stories of fruitless attacks off the front. I was to conserve energy and get a result. Time to get some points. So, I gathered some race intelligence at the start, standing alongside the Hillingdon Slipsteamer (Michael Wilmot, junior) who wins the race most often. How are you feeling today, ?Quite good?. Michael has told me the secret of his wins, ?Never come to the front and ride upto place five on the sprint and then go.? Today, I was planning to do just that. I had two more strong riders from Addiscombe in the line up, Jack and David. We said our hellos. The race began and the pace was steady for the first few laps. There was a ferocious wind on the back straight, hitting the bunch sideways. It would take an exceptional rider to break away. Suddenly, analysing my database of previous Hillingdon encounters I realised I was too close to the back. All it would take would be an increase in pace and the wind would start forcing gaps between wheels. I was thinking about this, but lazily enough my body wasn?t doing anything. I was struck by a strange inertia, watching the race unfold as if I were a bystander, powerless to act on it.
Next thing I saw was a rider come down in front of me on the gentle incline of the finishing straight. He appeared to dance, skate sideways to the left. I spotted Michael Wilmot move up the field. The ride continued but a gap had formed and I was on the wrong side of it. It was fifty yards or so with thirty riders ahead. I started shouting at the dawdling chasers to get organised and move but no one seemed interested. My plan to sit on wheels appeared in tatters. My shouting didn?t appear to have the same effect as Tony Gibb ! Maybe it wasn?t quite as direct and expressive as his language. A spectator told me to do up my helmet. It had come lose. I pulled over for a lap to retie it. I was tempted to jump back with the leading group, but waited for the chasers.
It was time to lead by example, which was difficult for a specialist wheel sucker. No wheel to suck in sight and the bunch moving further and further away. How would I explain this to my wife ! I felt a transformation inside as I shed my wind shy skin and focused the chase by riding at the front. I took a break on the home straight shouting at riders to come through and then did another pull. The bunch ahead were squandering their advantage and I couldn?t believe it: we were closing. Just as we caught them, they appeared to speed up and I thought I was going to die. I heard the word of the Addiscombe race guru, Toks Adesanya ?Dig deep? and hauled myself the final ten yards and back on to the pack. I felt heroic, even if all I had done was latch back on to main bunch. My team mate David Lombari was surprised to see me, ?I thought you?d gone home? he said, before riding off the front and making life hard again. The speed picked up again when five laps to go was announced and kept high.
I rode on Michael Wilmot?s wheel, noticing the holes in the back of his overshoes, the carbon swirl of this cosmic wheels and his effortless riding style. I asked him how he felt, ?Legs are feeling a bit tired now?. He appeared calm and relaxed riding through the middle of the bunch. I watched spell bound as he rode through the entire pack on the last lap ? no elbows in sight ? to get a good victory.. We stepped back into the club house for a cup of tea and I noticed the television in the corner. England vs Sweden. Score : nil : nil. I could see a group of men ambling around a green field. It looked like a pleasurable and relaxing pass time; but a real sport? Even though England's game hung in the balance, I was pleased to know Addiscombe had got a result, our man Jack, on his first Tuesday Hillingdon race, came second. He told me afterwards, ?Michael was on my wheel, and the came out past me and took it by three bike lengths.?