Winning: Grounds for Suspicion?

When I wrote about my thoughts on WADA's reasoned decison against Lance Armstrong last year, I started by saying that there were too many contradictory feelings pulling at the structure of what I was writing, and that my best hope was to splurge - to present an account of my feelings as opposed to an actual essay or editorial. I think I'm going to use the same approach for writing about Chris Froome. My confusion when it came to Armstrong stemmed from the fact that I condemned him for doing things that I'd forgiven other riders for. My confusion with Froome comes from the fact that I thought he looked suspicious way back during the 2011 Vuelta a Espania, but that I'm getting really annoyed with everyone being suspicious of him now.

There are plenty of conflicting opinions on Chris Froome - Antoine Vayer has declared that his performances are suspicious, L'Equipe has said that they aren't, the French Senate think it's unfair to have a whispering campaign against him, and the roadside fans have made their confusion and suspicion known with a variety of banners, the simplest of which was also the most expressive, saying only "Froome?"

What exactly has Chris Froome done that's so suspicious? Well, he's won the Tour de France for starters - a feat previously managed by, among others, Lance Armstrong, Marco Pantani, Jan Ullrich, Floyd Landis and Bjarne Riis.

To be fair, it is also a feat manged by Carlos Sastre, Bradley Wiggins and Cadel Evans, none of whom (not even sweary Bradley) have been the subject of as much of the suspicion that Froome has been under. The fact is, Evans, Wiggo and Sastre all looked vulnerable while winning. Evans had to dig deep to rein in Andy Schleck's multi-mountain attack. Sastre got his victory by spending one good day attacking his teammate, and for all Wiggo's dominance in the TT, we'd all seen what happens to him on particularly long or steep climbs - his TdF win was made possible in part by the fact that France has no Angliru!

Froome, on the other hand, created an air of dominance in this year's Tour de France, dashing away from the best climbers in the world on the steep stuff, whilst also winning one time trial and coming second in another. No wonder he's been lumped in with the TdF winners who crushed their opponents at the time, and then had their victories asterisked or struck out further down the line. There were times when his team looked vulnerable, and he could have paid a hefty price for forgetting to eat, but in terms of strength compared to his rivals, he looked tougher than the rest by a significant margin.

I'll confess right now, there were moments during this year's Tour, especially during the Time Trials, where I was rooting for Froome to lose, and greeted his first and second places with the annoyance a grown up would show to a child who doesn't know any better. "Don't win it!" I'd be thinking at Froome, "Don't you know what it will look like if you smash everyone against the clock as well as on the mountains?" This tends to be my benchmark for being suspicious of riders, the TGTD (too good at two disciplines) flag.

Remember 1999? Remember watching Armstrong and wondering how a guy previously known only as a Classics rider suddenly had three weeks' worth of stamina and the ability to beat the best time triallists against the clock and the best climbers on the mountains? Thus far the only thing we can prove against Chris Froome is the sin of looking a little too much like Lance Armstrong. Which is not the same as using Armstrong's methods, but goes a long way towards explaining why people are so suspicious of him.

Of course, Armstrong's USPS/Discovery teammates were also doped up to the eyeballs, and were capable of squeezing the life out of the race, a charge that has been laid at Sky's door in previous Tours, but was pretty far from the truth this year - sure, they dominated a few stages, but they also collapsed quickly and completely on the second Pyrenean stage, got monstered by the crosswinds, and could muster progressively fewer riders on the front as the Tour wore on. A Postal-style invulnerable superteam they definitely were not.

Where Armstrong's Tours looked suspicious because his previous was all in one day races, Froome has been given a lot of grief for having no previous at all. To me, this is one of the weaker bases for suspicion. Sure, when Bjarne Riis waited until his early thirties to start challenging Indurain in the time trials and destroying the entire peloton in the mountains, that looked a bit shaky, but Chris Froome is 28. It's not like he has decades of being a water carrier to make his elevation to star look suspicious. He won a stage race, the Tour of Mauritius, in his final year as an amateur, turned pro in 2007, spent the traditional couple of seasons grovelling like a newbie, got his first grand tour podium in 2011, another in 2012 and then took a win in 2013. Compare that to, say, Jan Ullrich, who turned pro in '95, got a podium at the Tour in '96, and won it by over seven minutes in '97, and tell me again that it's Froome's development that looks suspicious. I'd argue that, even leaving the Bilharzia infection aside, we've seen Froome grow into the role of Tour winner, from being a rider with, as I've said numerous times before here and here, more strength than savvy.

The "He must be doping, he's got no previous" argument has cropped up a few times recently, in connection with Riche Porte and Nairo Quinatana. With Porte, it came largely from fans and was easily dismissed here. With Quintana, it was particularly galling, as Universal Sports announcers Steve Schlanger and Todd Gogulski questioned Quintana's sporting ethics on air for no other reason than he'd "come out of nowhere". It's hard to think of a more nauseating piece of cycling journalism in recent years. For starters, any casual cycling fan could have told them that Quintana had won stages in the previous years Vuelta and Dauphine, and more dedicated fans would have probably pointed out that he's also won the Route du Sud in 2012, the mountains jersey of the Volta Catalunya in 2011 and the Tor de L'Avenir in 2010. More annoying is the fact that for ten years barely any US journalists bothered to question the fact that a Texan with an all American name was pulling off cycling feats far beyond anything he'd ever shown any sign of being capable of, but as soon as a chap from south of the border starts winning races, suddenly this duo thinks they're Woodward and Bernstein, asking hard questions.

The idea that previous form is a good way of assessing whether a rider is cheating is flawed. It doesn't take into account maturing riders, or changing teams, or the fact that cycling might actually be getting cleaner, allowing previously overshadowed riders a chance to shine now that the playing field is marginally more level. I can find you cheats who were consistent throughout their careers, and cheats whose form vacillated wildly. I can do the same for clean riders.

The fact is, as Podium Cafe has recently pointed out, neither previous form nor displays of strength prove anything anymore, simply because we have no benchmark for watching clean riders in a clean peloton. The last time we saw a clean peloton (by which I mean one that was using amphetamines and sleeping pills rather than EPO and blood transfusions) was in the era of steel bikes, steak for breakfast, big gear riding and no TT bars. We have an idea of what clean cyclists looked like before cycling got scientific, and an idea of what dirty riders looked like when they could get away with anything, but very little idea of what clean riders look like in an age of scientifically aggregated "marginal gains".We have no way of knowing whether a rider stands out because he's cheating, or because his rivals have stopped cheating, and with no guideline for suspicion, we've entered an age in which winning itself is seen as adequate grounds for speculation.

We know that cycling hasn't entirely cleaned up its act, the positive tests at the Giro proved that, and we also know that it's possible for riders to evade detection. This uncertainty has led us into a situation where riders are guilty until proven innocent. The constant talk about who is or isn't doping is potentially as damaging to the sport as the old system of omerta in which doping wasn't mentioned at all. After all, if clean riders are going to be jeered, interrogated and pissed on regardless, doesn't the moral victory of riding clean start to feel hollow? If the only reward for riding clean is to be treated like a doper anyway, you might as well find a a way of guaranteeing some wins to go with it.

In the days when the majority of riders were doped but we didn't talk about doping, you could at least kid yourself that some winners were clean. These days, with a new generation of riders outspokenly riding clean and a greater chance of clean victories than we've had in years, we've somehow all decided to treat every victory as if it was doped. It's the most hopeful period we've had in cycling for many years, and the fans and cycling media are treating the sport as if it's beyond hope.

While I'd never advocate a return to the days of omerta, I think these current days in which a lot of fans choose to believe that every winning ride is a doped one comes dangerously close to creating a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Froome vs Contador, and other Tour de France Contenders

During yesterday's  Tour de France coverage I was relieved to hear Matt Rendell talking about the benefits Chris Froome will have received by riding for Bradley Wiggins. I've been saying for ages that the high placings Froome achieved in the 2011 Vuelta and 2012 Tour had almost as much to do with Wiggo's brains as Froome's legs.

I summed up my feelings on Wiggins and Froome's respective skills in this post and while I'll admit that Froome has changed and evolved since then, I still think he owes a lot of that evolution to Wiggo.

The ability to ride a clever, savvy race could be vital in the next three weeks. At present, it looks like Froome has the form of his life, while Contador has shown no form at all this year. You can discuss the possible reasons for his loss of form somewhere else, preferably somewhere with less stringent libel laws. Nevertheless, I wouldn't put it past him to have a resurgence: this is the chap who left the beach to win the 2008 Giro on a week's notice. When his form finally comes in, it comes in fast. If Contador finds his legs, there's much less to separate him from Froome physically, and it could come down to who has the better racing brain.

Once upon a time, the only small weakness Contador ever showed was in his race awareness. An on-form Contador climbs and timetrials like a world beater and occasional poor positioning was the only chink in his armour. He was caught behind a crash at the 2011 Tour and caught out by crosswinds in the 2009 Tour, neither of which should have happened if he'd been thinking about his positioning. (I'll admit, it's not as if being stuck in a distant echelon cost him the race in 2009.)

Froome, similarly, has been prone to misreading races, or just plain not thinking about what he's doing. Prior to 2011 he had a reputation for sitting at the back of groups he should have been at the front of, or for burning energy on fruitless early attacks. Then there's the story from his early days in Kenya, where he supposedly rode 50Km to take part in a 250Km race and wondered why he didn't have enough in the tank to compete. Or that moment in the 2011 Vuelta when the entire peloton was bemused to see him frantically attacking off the front in an attempt to secure the bonification at an intermediate sprint. Unfortunately, the intermediate sprint was a whole kilometre further up the road than Froome had thought.

The fact is, these are two guys who've traditionally let legs, lungs and strong attacking instincts do all the work for them. (As I type this, Chris Froome has just attacked on the descent into Ajaccio on Stage 2!)

If Contador recovered enough form for them to be physically matched, which would have the racing brain to make the difference? Froome has shown a little cunning on a couple of occasions this season, skipping turns and feigning tiredness before attacking his rivals from behind, most notably here at the Tour of Oman. Thing is, it does seem to be his only trick, and he's used it twice this year already.

Contador, on the other hand, spent all of the 2012 Vuelta being unable to beat a rampaging Joaquim Rodriguez on their traditional, late-stage, steep battlegrounds, before doing the unexpected and attacking instead on a medium mountain day, ridiculously early in the stage, when Rodriguez wasn't looking. In the process, he stole the race right out from under a stronger rider. If, and it's a very big if, Contador gets his legs back for this Tour, I reckon he'd be smart enough to nick it off Froome.

I sort of hope it does happen. Don't get me wrong, I've stopped holding a grudge against Froome for last year's "Fwooomie-gate", but that doesn't mean I want to see another Tour in which a dominant rider goes almost unchallenged to the victory.

If I'm entirely honest, I'd really like to see Cadel Evans win it. His transformation from petulant nearly-man to engaging, gutsy and aggressive World Champ and Tour winner has been one of the most enjoyable parts of being a cycling fan in recent years, and I'd love to see him reap further rewards. Similarly, I'd love to see the huge amount of excitement Rodriguez has generated over the last few years actually net him the top step on a grand tour podium for once. Sadly, I don't think it's particularly likely - the Tour gets ridden so much faster and harder than other GTs that riders who've seemed to be defying the aging process in other races can suddenly look old overnight. I fear that Evans and Purito can hope for a podium spot at best.

That means that our best hope for an actual GC battle in this Tour comes from Contador rediscovering his legs and then matching wits with Froome. I hope that happens, and if it does, I'll happily cheer for Froome.

An Interesting Day in Oman

Brilliant fight up Green Mountain yesterday. It feels a bit early in the season to be seeing the big names duelling it out, but I'm not complaining.

It's also probably too early in the season to read anything into the results, but I'm going to ponder anyway. As with last year's Vuelta, you get the feeling that Contador's acceleration is fractionally less powerful and sustainable than it used to be. Watching him grind his way onto Nibali's back wheel was a real surprise, Nibali being the sort of diesel climber that an explosive rider like Contador should be able to catch, match or despatch with a couple of pedal turns.

Evans and Froome were equally interesting. Both capable climbers, but falling short of the acceleration and top speed of Rodriguez or Contador, they overcame their shortfalls with brains and, in Froome's case with what  I suspect was a bit of bluffing. They stayed within themselves, didn't redline it following attacks they couldn't catch, and used the strength they'd saved to attack when their technically faster rivals were depleted. I'd expect that of a canny rider like Evans, but seeing it from Froome was a surprise.

In the past, I've been guilty of suggesting that Chris Froome's racing brain wasn't as strong as his racing legs. I always thought his high placing in the 2011 Vuelta was largely down to sticking to Wiggo, who was making all the smart decisions about who and when to chase. Yes, he was stronger in the TT and on Angliru, but I'm not sure if he's have been in contention by that point if he hadn't spent the first ten days benefitting from Wiggo's decisions. I know that sounds mean, but consider Froome's now forgotten reputation for burning all his matches in meaningless early attacks. Remember his attempt to sprint for a bonification a kilometre too early, or the old stories of him riding 50km to the start of a 150km race. He's not a chap you expect to ride cleverly or cagily, yet there he was peeling off to the side either in exhaustion or, more likely, disgruntlement, part way through the chase of Rodriguez, forcing Contador and Nibali to come through and do their share, presumably thinking he was spent.

I wish the camera had been on their faces when he tore past them. If the finish had been half a km further on, I think he might have caught Rodriguez and got the stage win as well as the leader's jersey.

And as for Rodriguez's attack, what can you say? It wasn't his usual lethal turn of speed, but it came when his major rivals were unprepared, and he used the element of surprise to make it stick. Poetic justice, given how Contador used similar tactics to pinch last year's Vuelta out from under J-Rod's nose.

Vuelta a Espana 2012: Opening Salvos

So, by day three the Vuelta has seen almost as much action as the Tour managed in three weeks. Marvellous. So far, everything is going according to expectations: JJ Cobo and Jurgen Van den Broek have pretty much dropped out of contention already, while Contador, Froome, Rodriguez and Valverde look to be the strongest men in the race.

Slightly less expected was the drop down the GC of Thomas De Gendt and Nairo Quintana, two riders thought to be likely top ten finishers who are now 2:54 and 3:09 down respectively. The other riders to watch (Gesink, Mollema, Anton) are still at the happy end of the GC.

What was really interesting about today was just how lively it was. Contador launched six attacks, Rodriguez  had a go as well, and Valverde fought to the last to secure his stage win and Red Jersey. As for Froome, I'm really not sure what to think. It's all very well being the most explosive climber at a Tour de France full of diesel climbers, but I always thought that the high-octane climbing explosions of Rodriguez and Contador would leave him slobbering in their wake.

As it turns out, I was wrong about that. But not in a way that I find completely reassuring. There aren't many people who can get back onto Contador's wheel after he's attacked once, let alone six times. The fact that Froome managed to labour his way back to Berty repeatedly and then pip him for third place (and a 4 second bonification) suggest that he's both faster and less fatigued than I expected him to be. Contador never got more than about fifteen bike lengths on him, and the gap never stayed open for more than about 25 seconds.

Sadly, Froome's heroic gap closing looks a little less impressive when you consider that Valverde and Rodriguez were doing a much better job of holding Contador's wheel. More importantly, Froome can afford to dig into the red and hunt Contador down on a 6Km climb, but chasing like that on the long climbs could be ruinous-in those circumstances he'll need the sort of sub-zero nerve that lets him carry on at a pace he can maintain, trusting that it will be enough to reel Contador in over the course of a half hour climb.

Froome's Time Trialling ability will be enough to nullify anything short of a legendary mountains performance from Valverde or Rodriguez, but it won't give him as much of a buffer over Contador, who's more competent against the clock than Purito or Piti. If Froome's to succeed he needs to walk a very thin line between not letting Contador get too far away from him on the climbs, but trusting in himself enough that he won't burn himself out chasing.

What is reassuring is that while Contador still has the ability to attack over and over again, he seems to be just a fraction off his top acceleration. Every time he attacked today you could see him pull the gap open, whereas prime Contador could leap up the road in a way that had you wondering if the Eurosport highlights editor were experimenting with axial cuts.

Essentially, we're still pretty much where we were three days ago-watching the two favourites, expecting neither to be at their peak, and wondering whether it's easier to recover from fatigue or inactivity. The fear that the extremely mountainous route might provoke a canny waiting game seems to have been unfounded-the big names have thrown bombs at each other on a 6Km lump on day three, so it's a safe bet that they're planning to make a fight of it. Can't wait.

Vuelta A Espana Preview

I love la Vuelta a Espana. I know I’m supposed to make snide comments about it being ugly, disorganised and poorly attended,  but I can’t. I’ve got a real soft spot for it. So much so that I couldn't even keep my original blog title: "look at my f*cking red jersey".

Recent editions have been thoroughly enjoyable. 2010 saw a brilliant four way fight between Nibali, Anton, Rodriguez and Mosquera, with each rider taking it turns to look like the strongest in the race before being trumped by his rivals in an escalating series of mountain battles.  Eventually Rodriguez blazed up Pena Cabarga as a last hurrah before haemorrhaging minutes in the ITT. Anton hit a bit of discarded 2 x 4 and crashed out wearing the leader’s jersey, and eventually we were left with a cracking defensive ride on the misty, steepening ramp of Bola del Mundo, with Nibali bravely grinding after Mosquera, closing a threatening gap to defend his lead.

Then in 2011 we had an even better edition - one in which Wiggins marked his rivals with intelligence and strength, rode side-by-side with Nibali, and even managed to drop Rodriguez in the mountains. Having outperformed most of his expected rivals, he finally succumbed to the vicious 24% gradients of the Alto del Angliru. The final ten days saw an unexpected dust-up between domestiques, as Chris Froome took on Geox’s JJ Cobo in a fight that was finally settled on Pena Cabarga, where Froome took the stage but not enough time to claim an overall victory.

Character counts

Putting aside recent great races, a lot of the stuff that people complain about is the stuff that gives the Vuelta its character. When ASO and RAI plan the Tour and Giro, their intention is to showcase the most beautiful parts of their country. When Unipublic plan the Vuelta, they want everyone to know that they have some of the most advanced cement factories and smoothest motorways in the world. The race lurches from awesome red deserts of Granada to the scrublands and peaks of the Asturias, before unexpectedly detouring through an industrial estate somewhere near Alicante.  It’s hilarious, and whatever else you may say about the Spanish, they know how to build a flyover.

Then there’s the lack of attendance. No, not the absence of crowds (the blistering late-August heat keeps many fans indoors watching on TV), but the abesence of riders. As it's the final Grand Tour of the year, most of the big-name riders have met their objectives for the season and are off on a beach somewhere. Others turn up with the intention of spending a fortnight tuning their form before faking an illness in the third week to taper, ready for October’s World Championships. The Vuelta objects to being used as a training race for the Worlds, but it’s not as though ever had a glorious past: until 1995 it took place in April, and was frequently ignored in favour of May’s Giro.

If anything, the move to September has added to the race’s personality. It’s now a last chance saloon for Grand Tour riders who haven’t performed as well as expected earlier in the season, and a baptism of fire for young riders looking to earn their shot at more prestigious grand tours. You can tell which cycling fans watch the Vuelta: when everyone started raving about Tejay Van Garderen in this year’s Tour de France, Vuelta watchers sniffily pointed out that they’d been saying he was one to watch since his spell in the young rider's jersey of the 2010 Vuelta.

Parcours

This year’s route has the potential to be absolutely gripping. It’s confined to the northern half of Spain and seems determined to hit just about every hill and mountain you can think of, with one notable exception: there’s no Alto del Angliru this year. Not that it matters - there are 39 different hills and mountains in this year’s Vuelta, with 8 stages classed as mountainous and no fewer than 10 summit finishes. Ten! On top of that, there are only 55km against the clock, and 16 of those are the Team Time Trial. If you’re not a climber, there’s hardly any point in showing up at all.

We won’t miss the Angliru because of the quality of the other climbs and, more importantly, their variety. Take these four as an example:

Mirador de Ezaro is a new climb for La Vuelta and comes at the end of an otherwise flat stage 12. At 2km long, you’d normally write this off as a pimple, but it has the potential to make a big difference to the shape of the GC. The first kilometre averages around a 14% gradient, while the second is around 16% average. That’s pretty steep, right? But those are only the averages. The max gradient on Ezaro is 29%. Yep, 29%.  Mt Ventoux at its steepest hits about 12-14%. The Angliru and Zoncolan max out at about 24-26%. Even the short but eye-wateringly vicious climbs of the Tour of Flanders rarely break the 25% mark. Seriously, professional riders have suffered the indignity of weaving to a halt and falling over sideways on lesser grades than this.

As if that weren’t enough, the 29% section is preceded by an leg-breaking 18%, followed by a 17% section, then has a few hundred yards of comparatively gentle climbing before rearing up again to break the 20% mark a second time. It may only be short, but most riders can only tackle gradients like that in survival mode: whole swathes of the peloton will be forced to do nothing more than watch any attacks that go away.

The Ezaro has the potential to break the field into several distinct groups: Alberto Contador and Joaquim Rodriguez could explode up the steep bits, distancing the field. Chris Froome and possibly Alejandro Valverde won’t have the same acceleration, but will be able to ride it faster than the rest. Then the diesel climbers will chug up it in a steady, enduring fashion that would be tremendously effective on a long climb but something of a hindrance on this ‘pimple’, and finally everyone else will wobble up it. It’s far too short for insurmountable gaps to be opened up, but I can see some of the favourites buying themselves 20-30 (inc bonuses) seconds over each other here.

Forward to 2:50 for the start of the climb.

Then there’s Lagos de Covadonga. Spanish cycling’s answer to Alpe d’Huez is a long, misty climb through atmospheric scrubland past a pair of mountain lakes. At its hardest point it climbs through La Huesera (the bone woman), a battlefield from the Reconquista that has only recently stopped disgorging the bones of dead Moors after every rainfall. Seriously, this is a moody climb. The 12km ascent has a wavering gradient that averages 7% and tops out at 12%.

The very next day, the riders will tackle three first cat climbs on their way to Cuitu Negru, a wavering, wobbling 23km climb that has spells at 14% punctuated by long stretches of deceptively shallow, leg-grinding false flat.

Finally, there’s Bola del Mundo, site of Nibali’s race-winning defence in 2010. A 22km ramp that gets progressively steeper as it goes on, Bola del Mundo is a psychological test as well as a physical one. The narrow concrete tracks leading up the climb can’t always accommodate team cars, so the riders spend long periods away from their Director Sportifs, and the ramp-like profile is dispiriting for a lonely rider: if you’re suffering in the first five kms, tough - it gets steeper. If you’re suffering in the next ten km - tough, it gets steeper.

That’s just four of the 10 summit finishes, and even the Time Trial has a third cat in the middle of it. Still, if the 2011 Giro d’Italia taught us anything, it’s that too many mountains can kill a race, as the entire peloton switches into survival mode and the first man brave enough to attack attains an irretrievable lead.

I don’t think that’s going to happen here though. Too many riders have something to prove: Contador wants to put his doping ban behind him, Froome wants to show that he can win a Grand Tour, Rodriguez must be looking at the likes of Ezaro and Mirador and feeling like they’ve been included for his benefit, and rumour still has it that Andy Schleck might be fit in time to participate. So that’s second place sorted.

The Contenders

I’m going to rule out Andy Schleck and JJ Cobo straight away. I never believed Cobo had even one GT win in him, so I absolutely refuse to consider the possibility that he has two. The minimal time trialling and total absence of downhill finishes would appear on paper to favour Schleck, but his participation is still doubtful and even if he is there, all that time off with injury means it’s unlikely that he’ll have any fitness.

While on the subject of time off, Alberto Contador is an interesting proposition. He’s the most naturally talented and rounded stage race rider in the bunch. He’ll have spent his ban training hard and will almost certainly be physically strong enough to do the business. His racing wits might be another matter: about the only weakness Contador has is the occasional lapse of concentration - he sat in the middle of the pack and got stuck behind an echelon in the 2009 TDF, forgot to eat in the first mountain stage of the 2010 TDF, and sat in the middle of the pack and got stuck behind a crash in the 2011 TDF. Of course, in all but the third example he managed to pull back the time he lost, but still, his infrequent ill-positioning is one of the few straws his rivals can clutch at, and it’s possible that the Eneco Tour won’t have been enough to make his mind as sharp as his legs.

Then there’s Chris Froome, who also has head and legs questions to answer. He was the strongest climber at the Tour, and while he can’t go up with the likes of Contador and Rodriguez, he’ll outclimb everyone else and lose minimal time to the two superior ascenders. His time trialling ability is strong enough to ruin Rodriguez, and he should take some time out of Contador against the clock as well. However, all this depends on two things: has he got anything left in his legs after the Tour and the Olympics? And more importantly, can he make the right tactical decisions for himself? His best results have come when assisting Bradley Wiggins. Before taking the role of super-domestique, Froome was best known for entertaining but fruitless do-or-die attacks, and it’s easy to suspect that his placings in the Vuelta and Tour were the result of allying his legs with Wiggo’s brain. He’ll have to prove that he’s as smart as he is strong. If he can do that, then he should have a fantastic ride, as he has the strongest team of the three main contenders.

Finally, there’s Joaquim Rodriguez, the only man more explosive than Contador on the steep stuff. His weakness against the clock is unlikely to be a major factor in this Vuelta, and he’ll have had plenty of time to recover from his Giro d’Italia second place. As I type this, he’s having an exploratory dig at the front of the Classica San Sebastian, and he looks good. Unlike Contador, he can’t repeat his attacks over and over, but the memory of his breathtaking ride up through Asissi in May or his 2010 win on Pena Cabarga leaves you in little doubt that he’ll pick up time and bonuses on short ascents like the Mirador de Ezaro, as well as making some decisive late kilometre attacks on the long mountains.

Ordinarily, I’m absolutely certain what the podium will look like. I’m not always right, mind you, but I always know what I think. This time though, I’m really struggling.

I don’t think Froomedog can cope with Purito and Pistolero in the mountains, but I can’t see either of them matching him against the clock.

I think Rodriguez can beat the other two over any short, uphill distance, but by small enough margins that he’ll need to do it on multiple stages to compensate for what he’ll lose elsewhere.

I think Contador will take big time from everyone on several mountain stages, but only if he’s in form.

I’m going to assume he will be. And so:

1. Alberto Contador

2. Chris Froome

3. Joaquim Rodriguez

Screw Twitter: Thoughts on Wiggins and Froome

When it comes to supporting cyclists or cycling teams, I’ve never been particularly motivated by patriotism. Exciting riding styles, strong teams or the ability to dethrone a rider I dislike have always been the major factors in choosing who I support. Except it now turns out that my lack of patriotism has merely been down to the lack of a strong British/Kenyan-British contender.

Like every cycling fan, the performances of Wiggins and Froome over the last three weeks had me gripped. Froome’s attack on Pena Cabarga made me shout myself hoarse. As hope faded over the final week that either man could retake the jersey from JJ Cobo I engaged in ever more convoluted and far-fetched imaginings as I tried to figure out where the Sky pair could get another 13 seconds with fewer and fewer climbs available. In my head, Sky one-twos put Cobo under pressure even on the flat. I knew it would never happen, but my newfound need for a patriotic win saw the borders of sporting credibility stretched like an old sweater.

(Incidentally, I’d like to see “stretching the sweater of credibility” become a counterpoint to “unpacking the suitcase of courage”, as in: “Landis is really unpacking the suitcase of courage here, Phil.” “Actually Paul, I think he’s finished unpacking and started stretching the sweater of credibility.”)

Of course, I was far from the only one to become obsessed with the Sky duo, it seemed like every British cycling fan was paying close attention. Unfortunately it seemed like at least half of them were in the same camp as Twitter’s FestinaGirl, who said of Froome: “shame Sky didn’t appreciate his right to wear the Red Jersey when he had it” among many other pointed comments about Sky’s decision to throw all their weight behind Wiggins even when Froome was in 2nd position overall. The question occurred time and again on cycling related forums: where would Froome be if he didn’t have to work for Wiggins?

My answer to that is that he’d probably have been somewhere in the top twenty.

How Teamwork Works
Don’t get me wrong, over the whole three weeks Froome was the stronger of the two Sky men, and by the end of the race was riding in a delightfully aggressive fashion, but it was Wiggins who rode like a team leader, and Wiggins who rode like a race favourite. It was Wiggins riding in the front two and marking the favourites on Sierra Nevada. It was Wiggins deciding who to leave and who to chase. When the Sky pair chased down Dan Martin and defending champion Vincenzo Nibali on La Covatilla it was Wiggins who assumed leadership of the group, moving to the front and sustaining a pace that burned off Rodriguez, Scarponi and Nieve, and made sure that Nibali couldn’t escape a second time.

Did Chris Froome help his team leader do all this? Of course, but thats what mountain domestiques do. They drag their leader up to the front group on the mountains. Once they’re there, however, it’s the leader who rides with his head up, bossing the field, setting the pace and attacking the weak. That’s what Wiggins did.

Froome’s reputation before this Vuelta was that of a strong climber with limited tactical nous, a penchant for crazy attacks, and a bad habit of positioning himself at the back of the bunch. If he’d ridden his own race, as half the internet seemed to have wished, he’d have flared brightly and then been left to slip down the rankings long before the race reached the Angliru.

Riding Wiggins into the lead is what taught Froome to ride at the front. Sticking with his savvy leader in the mountains is what taught him self-control. He added his own tremendously exciting attacking style to that, tear-arseing out of the bunch in pursuit of bonus seconds or gaps, but the Froome who finished the Vuelta in second place was not a podium rider who’d been held back all race, he was a domestique who’d been remade over the course of it.

Personally, I can’t wait to see what he does next, but for those of you who’d rather he’d bucked the team hierarchy, ridden selfishly and battled his own teammates, may I suggest you watch the Italian team at the Worlds next week?

How steep?!?

So, we said that the mountains would be too much for him. No, the really long mountains. No, sorry, the really long mountains with lots of changes in gradient. Not only have they not been too much for Bradley Wiggins, but his head-up, commanding riding at the front, marshalled by Chris Froome has been too much for many of his rivals.

Seriously, look at the list of riders that Wiggins has dropped at one point or another in this race: Vincenzo Nibali, Joaquim Rodriguez, Michele Scarponi, Mikel Nieve. Not bad for a chap we thought would defend in the mountains.

Of course, tomorrow we’ve got a really long mountain with lots of changes in gradient and some horrifically steep sections. By rights, that should be too much for Wiggins, but by this point he’s confounded expectations often enough that it wouldn’t be a terrible surprise if he holds it together on the Angliru.
Even after the Angliru there’s still stage 17's summit finish on Pena Cabarga, a climb too short for massive time losses, but steep enough for gaps to be created easily - a good day tomorrow could lay the foundations for a deciding attack on Wednesday. Nevertheless, Wiggins is in the strongest spot now.

Of his expected challengers tomorrow, any attempt by Mollema to get away would lead to an Anglo-Dutch replay of last year's slo-mo Mosquera/Nibali chase. TGBM has the strength to maintain a gap, but not the acceleration to make the gap especially dangerous.

Cobo could have something left in the tank, but it would be almost the reverse of the Mollema situation - he could easily open a sizeable gap, but potentially not maintain it - much like today, where he was chopped back to 15 seconds by the finish.

I can't bring myself to count Nibali out entirely either. 1:25 is a big deficit for a guy with so little acceleration, but he's finished second and third on the Mt Zoncolan in the last two years. When it comes to really long climbs with batshit gradients, Nibali has proven that he can hang in there even as the faster guys fade. The Angliru might yet play to his consistency.

Nevertheless, Wiggins has to defend the time he’s already got, while everyone else has to overcome sizeable caveats (and sizeable mountains) to seize the time they need. I don’t want to tempt fate, but things have never looked this good before...

Vuelta 2011: Thoughts After The Rest Day

Ten stages in and the 2011 has been a cracker so far. We’ve had incidents and action on a course that has shaken up the riders' expectations of a grand tour by hitting them with a summit finish after only four days, and shaken up viewer expectations of a Vuelta by swapping the usual motorways and cement factories for broad, arid vistas, cosmopolitan towns and heaving beachfronts. And motorways.

All that has added up to a win for the fans, and the winners and losers within the race are equally clear.

The Losers

Igor Anton’s unexpectedly poor performance the moment the route first went uphill saw him drop out of contention even before a poor time trial left him nearly nine minutes back. Michele Scarponi’s collapse hasn’t been as clear to the eye as Anton’s, but his failure to be right at the sharp end of the race put him in a position where Wiggins’ great day on La Covatilla and Scarponi’s own underperformance in the following day’s TT sees him at 4:22.

Joaquin Rodriguez was expected to lose big time in the TT, and he did. He wasn’t really expected to blow quite as much on La Covatilla, but his cushion in the red jersey was such that his status as a loser at 3:23 doesn’t look quite as serious as that of Denis Menchov and Janez Brajkovic in thirteenth and ninth place respectively. Those aren’t bad standings, but very little of the remaining route suits either man, so it looks likely that they’ll start a rankings slide from here.

The Winners

The big winners so far are Wiggins and Nibali. In any grand tour you can put together a list of ten or fifteen riders that should be contenders for the overall, but of that list you know that deep down there are really only four or five that actually are genuine contenders. Of the group that benefit from more than just polite inclusion, only Wiggins and Nibali remain in the top ten, at 20 and 31 seconds back, respectively. Thus far, Wiggins has looked the stronger by a whisker - with one ill-fated exception on La Covatilla, Nibali has defended or even briefly faded on the climbs, while Wiggins has taken charge, riding sensibly at the front and occasionally setting the pace. That balance will undoubtedly shift as the race continues through seven more mountain stages - despite Bradley’s massive improvement on the steep bits, they’re still Nibali’s natural arena.

Of the other top tenners, the most notable is Chris Froome, who has shown incredible strength in the service of Wiggins in the mountains, and unexpected power in the TT to take the red jersey. He leads Fuglsang by 12 seconds and Wiggins by 20, but he’s young and his experience of leading a stage race is limited to winning the 2006 Tour of Mauritius. He’ll fade down the standings over the next 11 stages, but his name will stick in the mind and we’ll all be watching out for him next year.

Bauke Mollema, or “The Great Bauke Mollema” as some parts of the internet know him, is in the position Froome will find himself in next year: in the past, he's been the star of the future, in the present, he's fulfilling that potential. He looks robust and ready to grind away at the race until a top 5 or (whisper it) podium place is his.

Fuglsang is the surprise, at least to me. Leopard Trek have been touting his stage racing potential, but the scarf-modelling true racers have always talked a better fight than they’ve actually fought. To me, Fuglsang’s previous good placings have always spoken of an ability to get good placings, rather than potential to get great ones. I’d always put him in the Oscar Perreiro bracket: a rock-solid, respectable rider, but one who’d need both a lucky breakaway and a lucky break to make any further progress. Yet there he is, in second and looking comfortable, if not exactly powerful.

Predictions

Ten stages down, eleven to go. Seven of which are mountains. Seven. Including the Angliru. When you look at it that way, anything could happen. Hell, even Anton could make a comeback! In all likelihood, however, I think we’ll see Nibali grinding skyward, never having good days, but never having bad ones either, until he finishes in red by a narrow margin.

While the likes of Scarponi, Anton and Rodriguez have fallen backwards, the remaining territory suits them all sufficiently that I expect them to regain positions in the top ten at the expense of Brajkovic, Monfort and Zubeldia. Rodriguez in particular will do well on Pena Cabarga, and might fancy his chances today as well-it’s not really a steep enough climb for him, but it is at least a short one.

Finally...

ITV4 have done a cracking job of pulling together Vuelta coverage at the last minute, overcoming dodgy Spanish feeds and acoustically iffy surroundings to bring us enjoyable and occasionally rather moving coverage: Cervantes and Cavendish was the sort of cultured combination that makes me love cycling. Nevertheless, the last minute addition of the Vuelta to the schedules means that they have a pre-existing commitment to motor racing that they have to honour this Sunday. Worse still, Eurosport are dropping their Vuelta coverage on the same day in favour of tennis. That’s Sunday. The day the race goes up the Angliru. The queen stage of the race. Moop. All is not lost, however, as ITV will be streaming the race live online, so you’ll be able to watch it here: http://www.itv.com/itv4. Phew.