Tour de France hero: Jens Voigt

Jens Voigt: a Tour de France legend. Just don't take
his water bottles and lock up your bike

It is now only 24 hours until the Tour de France rolls out of Liège and I for one can’t wait.


You will no doubt get caught up in the excitement of Cavendish, Wiggins et al – and justifiably so. But, for me, some of the best stories happen away from the glare of the frontrunners. My favourite stories involve the same rider: Jens Voigt. A burly, eccentric German, he is often at the centre of the more bizarre incidents of the race. Here are my two favourites:


The child’s bike incident

Voigt crashed hard on Stage 16 of the 2010 race in a descent of the Col de Peyresourde. With the team cars long gone and his front tyre exploded, he fought hard to avoid the broom wagon (the vehicle which signals the cut-off point of the race and, ultimately, elimination).


Determined to finish the race (Voigt had crashed out of the year’s previous race), he had only one option: borrow a child's bike to ride the remaining 15km until he reached a spare one.

‘By the time you get up and your brain starts working again, I realised that all the team cars had passed me and there would be nobody there to help,’ a bemused Voigt said on completing the stage.

‘I think there is this children's program where they do part of the Tour de France stages. One of those cars came by and they gave me one of their bikes.’ For information, the bike was painted yellow and equipped with good old fashioned toe clips.

‘It was way too small for me, it didn't fit with my pedal system and it didn't really work the way I wanted it to work,’ Voigt said. ‘But it was something to move and I took the chance.’

Voigt went on to finish the stage – and the race.


The water carrier


Now everyone knows that one of the many jobs of a domestique is to distribute water to the rest of the team. This often leads to the ridiculous sight of a rider with bottles shoved everywhere on his person. Even Mark Cavendish was drafted into duty at the Tour of Qatar in February this year.

As a super domestique, Voigt is more used to this task than most. It is not surprising then that supporters often see him as an ideal man for a souvenir bottle to take away from a race. In fact, bottle collecting is becoming a sport in itself on the sidelines of bike races.


Praise then for Voigt. I’ll let him recount the story from Stage 19 of last year’s Tour where he took an over-zealous bottle collector to task whilst riding up Alpe d'Huez:


“With about three kilometers to go I emptied my last bottle and was looking for some kid to give it to. Finally, I saw a young boy standing with his daddy. I rode over to him and slowly and carefully aimed at the kid – not trying to hit him! I just wanted to drop the bottle at his feet so he could pick it up and have a nice souvenir. And that’s exactly what I did.

But then, to my total disbelief a middle-aged guy just tackles the kid like a defensive back in the Super Bowl! And then, while the poor kid tries to regain his balance, the man grabs the bottle and starts putting it away. I watched this and kept on riding, but I was just steaming in disappointment and anger – yes, anger!

So i thought, “No this is not going to happen!” Until then I was having a super day. I was feeling good. The sun was bright and it was just one of those moments when I was proud to be a professional cyclist. I just wasn’t going to let this guy spoil my day.

At that point I just decided to stop my bike, turn around and start rolling down the hill again. All these people on the side of the road are watching me in awe and silence. They were probably asking themselves, “Is Jens going to abandon? Is he injured? Why is he turning around in the final of a mountain stage?” But I was just looking for that man who tackled that little boy. All this time, the crowd remained silent, waiting for would happen next.

Finally, I saw the guy and stopped in front of him and just pointed at his bag and told him that the bottle he grabbed was for this kid standing next to him. Of course at that point he hands over that bottle and I get back on my bike again, and I have to admit I felt pretty good about it.

But then the crowd just erupted and I am sure that at this moment I was getting about as much applause as the guys in the front group with the yellow jersey.”

So, there you have it. Whilst you’re watching Cavendish break into another sprint, or Wiggins cover another attack in the mountains, remember that back in the main field there are people like Jens.


For me, it is guys like him that make the Tour de France the great spectacle that it is.

How cycling changed my life

It all started three years ago. I had always been into exercise – predominately going to the gym two to three times a week. During a tough time personally I decided I needed something different, something to upset the monotony of riding an exercise bike three days a week.


I decided to get an (actual) bike. I never thought it would have the effect it has on me. I started off with a (relatively) cheap mountain bike. My first ride on it – probably the first time I had ridden a bike for 10 years – was exhilarating.


I felt a burst of excitement I hadn’t felt since riding across the grass of my local park aged six, my Nan in pursuit as I pedalled harder, always on the edge of losing control and falling off; it was the first time I had taken the stabilizers off. I still cherish (and long for) the rush of excitement I had that day. My new mountain bike had offered a tantalising glimpse.


Years later, mountain bike in tow, first childish ride out of the way, I threw myself into my new hobby doing early morning rides at weekends. I went out in all conditions – rain, frost, sun. I loved it.


My passion grew – and with it my ability to spend money on kit. From starting out riding around in a fleece from Primark (true) I was now buying superlight cycling clothing and not balking at the pricetag. I was hooked.


Thanks largely to a generous cycle scheme at work I bought a road bike last year. The transition from Primark-wearing, mountain bike rider was complete.


I even rode my first sportive late last year – 100 miles around the same Surrey hills that the professionals will tackle this year at the Olympic road race. It was tough – I am not your typical cyclist at 6’ 5” – but I got there. As one rider with a bovine physique not dissimilar to mine commented on the closing stretch: ‘thank fuck that’s over’. Quite.


But I still love cycling. At a time when I felt a mess, it offered me the opportunity to clear my head and focus on something new. I enjoy the solitude and independence of it. It gives me clarity. Indeed, it is rare that I get back from a ride and don’t feel better for it; even if it is wet, windy or cold – or, indeed, all three at the same time.


It has changed my life. I ran the London Marathon in April this year and I honestly think I would never have done that without taking up cycling three years ago. Instead of music magazines I now read about running, cycling or endurance sport; the science of it is fascinating. I’m even known to buy that bastion of male narcissism, Men’s Health, on occasion.


A psychologist would probably argue that buying that mountain bike was a way of turning my back; the embodiment of running (or cycling) away from my problems. They would probably be right, but I don’t care. Re-discovering cycling took me back to that sun-kissed day in the park with my Nan.


And for that alone, it’s the best purchase I’ve ever made.

Games Maker: my time is (nearly) now

Well, it is now only 34 days until I begin my first shift as a Games Maker working as a Flash Quote Reporter in the Olympic News Service (ONS).

It’s a great role to have got – interviewing athletes after they compete in the mixed zone. I will be working across the cycling disciplines covering track cycling, BMX and mountain biking.

I have already had a taste of it. I volunteered at both the BMX and track cycling test events and loved every minute. The contrast between the two events was stark – one sport (BMX) was very new and unknown to the press and spectators at the event; the other (track) probably the most high profile from a British point of view.

This led to different experiences in the mixed zone. At the BMX test event the mixed zone was often a barren wasteland with just a few hacks dotted around. This gave us a great opportunity to meet the riders and conduct interviews on a one-to-one basis.


I met some great athletes at the event, with most happy to stop, chat and generally promote their sport. I got some great quotes too, my favourite being the rider (who shall remain nameless) who commented after a wet day: ‘considering all the money that has been spent, you thought they would have put a roof on the track’.

That’s the great thing about working for the ONS – despite being Games Makers we are there to report what is actually said, not what we want athletes to say (or the world to hear). That means the natural journalist in you (who wants a great quote, good or bad) is allowed to ask questions to get it and then report it (within reason). Even if an athlete swears and it adds to the quote, that is also fair game. It is a great freedom to have.

The track UCI Track World Cup in February was a different story. The mixed zone, I imagine, closely resembled what I can expect mixed zones to be like come August. Full of hacks jostling for position, we were often listening to and annotating other journalist’s interviews, rather than conducting our own. Although that was disappointing, I did take the opportunity to test using a translator when interviewing Juanes Esteba Arango, the Colombian winner of the Men's Omnium.

So, what’s next? Well,  I have my uniform so all that’s left are two venue training sessions – one at the velodrome and the other at Hadleigh Farm (where the mountain biking will take place). It is all very close now.

I have also entered a competition laid on for Games Makers to attend a rehearsal of the opening ceremony. That would be a great start to my Olympic experience.

Euro 2012: why it’s a great tournament

The Euro 2012 TV coverage has
often mirrored how we all felt

Unless you’re Dutch, I think everyone is in agreement that Euro 2012 has been a great tournament. Even, perhaps, one of the best. A lot of factors have contributed to that, of course: a small number of teams, great stadia, great players and great games. You know, the usual stuff.


But that’s not all. There have been other unexpected delights too. Here are three of my favourites:


1.    The Polish/Ukranian TV coverage


The coverage of games has been epic. From the dizzying, swirling overhead shot that starts each game, to the aerial shots clearly from a blimp in the sky during the game. Both have added drama and spectacle – something difficult to get across in the often-tricky translation from live event to living room.


The use of cameras in the crowd has also been inspired, with the producer showing an unerring eye for a beautiful supporter, face painted with her teams national flag, caught in moments of despair or joy. The eye for the unusual has been great too, surely the best of which was the France fan mirroring most of us as he caught 40 winks as his team faced England.


2.    Seven Nation Army becoming a terrace anthem


I’ve never been a big fan of music to celebrate a goal or try – it all feels a bit American; a bit too OTT for football. It is something compounded by the constant use of Song 2 by Blur or Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis; great songs made annoying by ubiquity.


Not at Euro 2012 though. Some genius has worked out that the opening bars of Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes (NOT Marcus Collins) had the potential to be a terrace anthem. And it really works. Even the England brass band have started playing it during games. And bearing in mind their repertoire has stuck on repeat for decades, that can only be a good thing.


3.    The referees


Yep, the men in black, or yellow, or whatever it is these days. Putting the opening game aside, where Roberto Martinez look-a-like, Carlos Velasco Carballo, brandished cards like confetti, and the bone idle fifth official during the England v Ukraine game (AKA the man with the [white] stick), there have been very few refereeing shockers.


The games have been allowed to flow and only truly bad tackles punished. There definitely seems to be a more tolerant attitude in the refereeing; a hangover, perhaps, from the 2010 World Cup Final where Howard Webb brandished 14 yellow cards.


Of course the leniency has had its victims: Ireland, Denmark and Croatia will all feel hard done by, victims of dubious penalty decisions against favoured teams.


Things I don’t like


1.    Over-zealous ball boys


Now you have to praise ball boys that have been drilled to within an inch of their lives. We may even thank them if their swift work gets England a late equaliser on Sunday against Italy.


But how many times have we seen two balls on the pitch? It’s annoying, stops the game and leads to a ridiculous, uncontested drop ball. Less haste more speed, lads.


2.    The countdown to kick-off


While I can just about accept the goal celebration music (see above), the countdown to kick-off is awful. Do we need it? The spectators aren’t used to it and nor are the players. And what do you do when you have two supporters who speak different languages? It’s pointless and please stop it. Now.


We can only hope that the imminent knock-out matches are as good as what's gone before. There's not been a 0-0 game yet. That fact alone illustrates how great Euro 2012 has been.