Well done Wiggo
I have made mention before of my love of cycling. One little story that slipped my mind related to the annual holidays I took with my parents.
In my youth I tried hard to rebel, but I failed because my father wouldn’t let me and because I never had any money. But I did have my bike and it went with me everywhere, even on our annual holidays which, even in my teens, I was obliged to attend with my parents. I didn’t mind too much though because we always went to a particularly picturesque part of Northumberland and while my parents lounged on the beach or propped up the bar, I was whizzing round the countryside and impressing the local girls with my massive thighs (or so I imagined).
Then one year, something went wrong with the holiday packing and my father announced there was no room for my bike on the car; I would have to leave it at home. Our holiday was nearly one hundred miles away, reached by some of the busiest and most dangerous roads in the country, and the there was only decision I could take. “No problem”, I announced, “I’ll cycle there and see you this evening”. And I did. It’s the equivalent of telling she who must be obeyed that I have decided to cycle to Bangkok. This would never happen of course, because I wouldn’t even make it out of Pattaya and she wouldn’t let me, being made of much sterner stuff than my father.
Which is nothing to do with why I am writing this post.
Mention must be made of Bradley Wiggins who today becomes the first English (OK Jock, if I have to, British) rider to win the Tour de France. The Sky Team was formed a couple of years ago with the stated intention of winning the Tour with an
English British rider by 2015; so well done to the whole team, especially Chris Froome and Mark Cavendish, who put his status as world champion to one side to help Wiggins win the tour; and was rewarded with two wins out of the last three stages.
Anyone who has ever tried to go fast on a bike for an extended period will appreciate just what incredible athletes these guys are, and Wiggins also seems to be a pleasant, articulate chap who has worked for years for this very unique achievement. Even the French like him, although they pretend he is not
English British by concentrating on the fact that he was born in Belgium.
I reckon Sir Bradly Wiggins sound good, how about you Ma’am?
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