French Alps Tour 2003
The Start Line
Everything you need to know about the Tour de France (well, almost!).
By James Startt
As these elementary questions show, the average American has so little understanding of the Tour that...wait a minute - how do they pee?
Part of the glorious appeal of the world's largest sporting event is that there's always more - more to learn, more to comprehend, more to guess at, more to predict, more to revel in, more, more, more, more, more more! It goes as deep as you care to. Your grandmama can tune in to the last stage to cheer for that cute Texas boy in yellow, or you can spend four hours dissecting someone's doomed early jump in the opening week, and its historical place relative to Claudio Chiappucci's 1990 attack.
Here's a surprising look at the basics of the Tour--a little something for everyone. Not everything for everyone, because nobody can capture the entire Tour in one place. But no matter what your level of cycling expertise, there's some kernel of info or color in here that, when you drop it, is guaranteed to get you some new respect (or a free beer).
How do you win?
This one seems simple: The rider with the lowest accumulated time over three weeks of racing wears the yellow jersey--and wins. But to the uninitated, the idea of cumulative time overriding each day's stage wins can be as mind bending as, say, trying to keep track of the score in a cricket match day after day.
A guy like Italian sprinter Mario Cipollini can win four stages, but not even figure in the final standings.
And, in theory, a Tour winner doesn't even have to win a stage--although any Tour winner worth his weight in the mythic golden fleece usually comes away with at least one stage win. Who, after all, are Roger Walkoviak or Lucien Aimar? Well, both won the Tour, Walkoviak in 1956 and Aimar in 1966. But both did so without winning a stage. And today both are generally discounted as minor Tour winners.
Lance Armstrong made matters easy for the general public in 2001 when he won four stages on his way to the overall victory. But often the Tour race is not so clear - the leader must sacrifice stage victories to win the overall race. "To win the Tour you also have to know how to lose," says three-time American winner Greg LeMond. "Nobody can win every day, every stage. You've got to pick and choose, play your cards right. There are plenty of unspoken ethics. When you're wearing the yellow jersey, for instance, you don't kill someone's effort for a stage win when it is not important to the overall lead. If you do, you will make some enemies fast."
LeMond speaks from firsthand experience. Sacrificing stages was key to his third Tour victory, especially in the Pyrenees Mountains on the stage to Luz Ardiden. After dropping the race's yellow jersey Claudio Chiappucci, LeMond carried a young Miguel Indurain to the summit before letting the Spaniard sprint around him for the stage win. LeMond virtually assured a third Tour victory, while Indurain got what would be his only road stage victory that year.
What do the other jerseys mean?
The green jersey is commonly called the sprinter's jersey. It's actually the "points" jersey, and is awarded to the rider who accumulates the most points by being the first one past designated spots on the course, and at the finish. The intermediate sprint spots are determined before the race begins, and all the riders know the locations. (It's not a surprise.)
The polka-dots, the "climber's jersey," is won by accumulating bonus points on designated spots on climbs, as well as mountain finishes. In contrast to the green jersey, the polka-dot isn't contested every stage--only when at least some climbing is involved.
The white jersey, the "best young rider jersey," like yellow is based on fastest cumulative time--but for riders under 25.
Each jersey is sponsored for big bucks - your brand gets a lot of exposure when it's tacked onto one of the Tour's stars for an entire race.
Of course, it's not so simple. Sometimes one rider leads several classifications, as is so often the case in the opening stages of the race, or in the 1969 Tour when a young Eddy Merckx led the yellow, green and climbing competitions simultaneously. Does one rider wear several jerseys at once, or simply not wear some? Nope--sponsor interest is too important for such oversights.
According to the Tour's totem pole, yellow is most important, followed by green, polka dot, then white. When more than one competition is led by a single racer, the second-place rider in that competition symbolically wears the jersey.
The jersey hierarchy is established partly by history. The yellow jersey originated in 1919, while the green jersey was inaugurated in 1953 for the race's 50th anniversary. Although the first mountain competition started in 1933, the polka-dot jersey didn't enter the Tour until 1975.
According to Serge Laget, chief archivist for the French sports daily, L'Equipe, "the hierarchy is also based on prestige. The points competition has been more consistently won by top road sprinters, while the mountain competition can sometimes produce surprises."
Just look at the 2001 results. In the last day, Germany's Erik Zabel, one of the world's top sprinters won the green jersey from Australian Stuart O'Grady. Zabel's victory was fitting and, since he has won the same competition every year since 1997, no one contested his superiority in that category.
Frenchman Laurent Jalabert, however, was not a logical pick for the polka-dot jersey. Early in his career Jalabert earned much of his reputation as a top road rider with a tremendous sprint--he's a former green jersey winner. His climbing abilities, however, could be described as inconsistent at best. Jalabert himself, while justifiably proud to add the polka-dots to his array of awards, downplayed the title as best climber. "By wearing this jersey I'm not saying I'm the best climber--far from it. But I really went after it and won it with courage. I picked up points on small climbs, but also in the high mountains. I'm not the best climber, but I played it right."
Throughout the race, Jalabert picked up numerous climbing points on minor climbs or the first mountain passes in the high mountains. Little matter that he faded before the finish--he consolidated his hold on the polka-dot jersey. On the stage to Saint-Lary-Soulan, Jalabert attacked on the descent of the first mountain pass, the Portet d'Aspet. And for more than 100 kilometers he rode solo, picking up big points over four mountain passes. Although he was caught and passed by Lance Armstrong in the final kilometers, on paper he came out ahead in the climbing competition. Why are there teams?
Each team dedicates itself to a goal. For some, that's an overall win. For others, it's one of the jerseys, or a single stage win. Some teams, who have little hope of any of those goals, focus simply on making dramatic moves that get plenty of air time for their sponsors. Although one rider is the focal point for any of those goals, it's nearly impossible to achieve any of them without the support of a team.
For example, teams interested in the green points jersey organize their lineup around one stunning sprinter. Without a genuine contender for the yellow jersey this year, the German Telekom team of perennial green jersey wearer Erik Zabel is pursuing such a strategy this year. There will be a lead-out man, who is the trusted racer who can ride ahead of the sprinter in the last few hundred feet of the race, blocking the wind and picking the ideal line before launching him at high speed toward the finish line. There will be a supporting cast of diesels who can crunch out power for long periods of time, which lets that team chase down breakaways (so a small break doesn't cross the finish before their sprinter has a chance to trounce the field) or simply raise the speed of the pack so high in the final miles that a breakaway never gets the chance to escape.
If a team with little chance of winning the Tour overall (because their best rider can't climb or time trial as well as the favorites) gets the yellow jersey early in the race, it will do whatever it needs to keep it as long as possible and maximize the publicity for its sponsor - even burning out its riders so they have almost no influence in the final weeks of the race (or even drop out).
Typically teams are only too happy to let a small unthreatening breakaway establish itself early in the stage to settle the otherwise non-stop rubber band effect produced by countless attacks. Then the yellow jersey team moves to the front to and begins its long tempo towards the stage finish. It's a relentless job but one that pleases the team's publicity people as it maximizes sponsor exposure. Finally, in the final 50 kilometers the yellow jersey team can relax a bit as sprint teams start helping to finally reel in the breakaway.
Some teams simply aim to come away from the Tour with as many stage wins as possible. Year in and year out, Holland's Rabobank team has been one of the feistiest teams when it comes to the daily fight for stage victory. "Already we start thinking about the Tour de France and our potential team back in January," says director sportif Theo De Rooy. "For us it is very important to start the race well, to get a grip on it immediately. For that there is nothing better than an early stage win. So for us, even in the first day, it is important to get someone into the first breakaway immediately." DeRooy adds that everything in the Tour is magnified, so just getting in a break, just winning a bonus sprint, or grabbing one of the jerseys, even if just for a day for a day, translates into publicity. All these things don't matter so much in smaller races. But in the Tour de France they do.
"Race dynamics change constantly, daily, sometimes even hourly," says DeRooy. You've got to feel when the moment is right for an attack. As a director my role is to inform my riders of what they can expect. When is the road going to turn, when are the hills approaching, when will the wind change etc." But DeRooy also points out, "you've also got to have riders that are creative, that look for opportunities and make them. In the end a good cyclist is also a good improviser."
How many people are on a team?
Nine riders - but they're actually a minority within their own team, outnumbered by the support staff.
The U.S. Postal team, for example, takes 15 staff members for nine riders. "For most races we have one team director, but for the Tour we have two," says Johan Bruyneel, head director. "For most races we have two mechanics, but for the Tour we have four. For most races with have three soigneurs. For the Tour we have four. Plus we have one or two press relations people, a cook and more. As a result on the Tour we have up to 23 or 24 people at one time."
The team directors ride in cars that most closely follow the racers, dictating on-road strategy.
Each day the mechanics break up into two groups. Two go to the race and follow in the team car. Two others drive the team truck to the hotel at the finish and prepare for the team's arrival after the stage. After unpacking everyone's luggage and putting it in each person's room they then block off sufficient space for the flood of team cars that will arrive after the race, and hook up a water supply to clean the bikes. Once the bikes arrive each gets a thorough cleaning and tune-up. And finally, closing up shop for the day, all team cars are washed so that they are presentable for the following stage.
The soigneurs also break into groups during a typical day. One jumps ahead to the stage finish hotel, perhaps making a pit stop in a French "hyper marche"--an oversized supermarket--to replenish the team's food supply. Others go the stage start to give riders pre-race rubs. Just before the start they, too, split up. Two go to the feed zone for mid-race hand ups while another goes straight to the finish. Once the race passes and all rider hand ups are completed, the two soigneurs at the feed zone then bolt ahead to the finish to wait for the riders, too. They don't always make it - sometimes the race breaks up into many small groups, clogging the race routes with an extended caravan that prevents anyone from passing it.
Once back at the hotel each soigneur sets up a fold-out massage table and begins giving cyclists that indispensable post-race rub, each lasting about an hour. Then, after dinner, assuming of course they've had time to eat, they begin preparing for another day, making small sandwiches and snacks for the riders and wrapping them in aluminum foil. Up early, one soigneur oversees the morning breakfast, making sure riders have ample supply of muesli and pasta while the others put the food and drink in the rider's hand-up bags and prepare the advance cars for another day.
What are the most important days?
See our stage info and maps at: www.bicycling.com/tourdefrance/daily/stages/
How is the route picked?
The making of every Tour stage represents nearly two year's work. Jean-Marie LeBlanc, general director to the Tour, usually juggles the organization of three Tours at one time. While most attention is focused on the upcoming Tour, he is already doing preliminary work on potential Tour routes one and two years ahead.
Each year between 90 and 100 towns place formal requests to host the Tour. (The waiting list can be up to five years long.) The towns pay about $33,000 to host a start, and $66,000 to host the finish. (Finishes are more expensive largely because of the added visibility they gain from the live TV broadcast at the end of each day.) From this pool LeBlanc, along with his technical staff start outlining possible routes. "Already up to 24 months in advance Jean-Marie asks me to visit different towns to analyze their potential for hosting a Tour start or Tour finish," says Jean-Louis Pages, site director for the Tour. Road conditions, potential finish areas and evacuation possibilities are all considered.
Each Tour route begins with the choice of the "Grand Depart," the gala start that includes the prologue, stage 1 and start of stage 2. Then the rest of the route is laid out. "There are some basic guidelines that must be met," says Philippe Sudres, the event's media chief. "First, according to the International Cycling Union we are allowed to hold the race over three weeks and four weekends. There must be two rest days and the average daily stage cannot exceed 200 kilometers. From these guidelines Jean-Marie then starts to select the towns. We have our own priorities, like riding through the Pyrenees as well as the Alps, and finishing in Paris."
By June of each year, LeBlanc and the competition department outline a potential Tour route for the following Tour--13 months in advance. Then in August and September the competition and site departments confirm the plausibility of the routes and towns one final time, as well as reserve between 1,100 and 1,200 rooms for the day. The route is officially announced in October.
Once the Tour route is official, the organizers arrange all logistics such as hotels, food, signage and--one of the biggest tasks--mobilizing a police force around the country to assure road closures. Along with 1,500 police on motorcycle that follow the entire race, and average of 3.5 gendarmes per kilometer are placed along the roadside.
The costs are mindbending and, according to Sudres, cannot be established exactly. Yet, you can get an idea from adding up some of the sponsorship packages.The Tour's top sponsors--those that make up the "Tour Club," such as Fiat, Aquarel mineral water, the Credit Lyonnais bank and Champion supermarket chain--pay nearly $3 million each. "Tour Partners," such as France Telekom, Coca Cola or Nike, pay roughly $2 million, while "Tour Suppliers" such as Mavic, Michelin, Kawasaki and the Couchonou sausage company pay roughly $800,000.
Okay, how do the riders pee?
For that answer we turn to Jacky Durand, a French racer who's twice been picked as the race's most aggressive racer for his relentless attacks.
Here's his take on the "arr? pipi."
"There's usually a big group of guys that stop as we roll out of town before the official start begins. But typically I've got to go again an hour or two into the stage, and that's when it gets tough. I mean first you look for a quiet moment in the racing, but sometimes that's not so easy to find in the middle of a stage. So then you start going as you ride. But that's not so easy either because you've got to make sure you don't hit any spectators. And finding an empty stretch of road in the Tour de France isn't always easy. I mean sometimes you start going when there is an empty patch of road, but by the time you finish you're passing a group of bystanders. And then you've got to watch out for the race judges. They're always threatening to slap you with a fine for whipping it out in public. "No, no--appeasing Mother Nature's little needs is not always so easy. Fortunately though, in all my years as a pro, I've avoided one thing-going in my shorts."
Back to the tour ............
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