‘You’re in a bubble for four weeks, immune to the rest of the world. It’s all-consuming,’ says Sean Yates of team life on a Grand Tour. To get through the Tour on the right side of sanity, you need to stay inside the special atmosphere of your bubble. As Christian Knees suggests, it can be disorientating to leave: ‘Once, on a rest day, I went to a supermarket to pick up something and it felt very strange, a different world.’ The one man who is particularly vulnerable to that protective bubble being pricked by external distractions is the yellow jersey holder. Everyone wants a bit of him.
From the hotel lobby to the sign-in and start line, the world seemed full of people desperate to glimpse the iconic jersey. There are fans to acknowledge, autographs and Lycra to sign, journalists and photographers to satisfy. After the race, it is straight to the podium area with Dario and a carer for a clean-up and fresh team kit – accessorised with distinctive black compression tights and blue suede trainers – ready for the podium. Another presentation, bouquet, congratulatory kiss, cuddly lion, clean yellow jersey. More press conferences, then a trip back to the hotel in the race car, eating and rehydrating on the journey, thinking ahead to a quickfire dinner, massage and bed.
For Wiggins, it was the ninth day in the iconic top. Did the simple act of putting it on each morning feel a weight of responsibility? Or was it like a second skin on an athlete who had dreamt of this achievement since childhood, who was already three times an Olympic gold medallist? Scott Mitchell’s photographs show Wiggins relaxed, concentrated, resigned (in a positive sense) to the yellow-jersey-wearer’s routine, true to his own idiosyncratic style. From morning wake-up call to the day’s end, Wiggins was a man on his mission.
‘The Tour, as the biggest race in the world, is so stressful for everyone, from the riders to the staff, and hours-wise the riders have the easiest jobs. Some of the staff are up at 5am and don’t get to bed until 2am,’ said Michael Rogers from his 12 years’ experience. He admired the way his leader handled the intensity of expectancy that underpinned the relentless day-to-day schedules and ever-burgeoning media interest. By Stage 15, the name of Bradley Wiggins had moved from deep inside the sports pages to the front pages of sports supplements, and was soon to hit national news headlines. ‘For any rider, in any team, the amount of press attention and pressure makes it hard to just concentrate on riding the bike.’ Rogers continued, ‘There might be pressure from the fact that some team budgets for the following year will be set according to performance. Some riders might have their contracts in the back of their minds. The press want your attention. Photographers push and push to capture the top shot. It is incredibly stressful. We might get back to a new hotel at 10pm for dinner, massage and sleep. Towns are so happy to host the Tour, they put on big town parties, with loud music, and we riders can’t sleep! Some people thrive on that sort of pressure and the attention that comes with it, but I don’t think Bradley enjoys it. Outside the hotel or bus, you see him smile but you know it’s for the cameras. He’s counting down the days. All the riders will say that, by the third week, you can’t wait to get the bloody thing over with.’
Wiggins may not have enjoyed the sideshow, but he didn’t let it unsettle him. It simply meant he was on track to secure his ambition. His attitude owes much to Brailsford’s determination for the 2012 team to build up experience as race leaders, as defenders of a lead, as performers familiarised with all the hassle that goes with being under a global spotlight. Wiggins was used to the demands, inured to the routine. It felt normal. His team mates, ever vigilant to his feelings, watched the way he paced himself. ‘Once we’d survived some crucial moments and taken yellow, I could see the relief of the stress that had built up in the mad first week leave his body,’ recalled Eisel. ‘It’s always more relaxed in the bunch once you hit the mountains. We knew from then on that we would get more space and more respect from other teams. There’d be no more crazy stuff in the peloton.’
‘We all had great respect for Brad,’ said Porte. ‘He had to deal with all the pressure as well as ride the kilometres. He had the media asking all sorts of questions. He had to pop all of that. He had so many commitments but he was the same Brad, often hilarious.’ The bus was his haven, where he wasn’t a ‘name’ leading cycling’s greatest race. He was Brad, the guy who people around him had known for years. ‘Bradley and I have grown up together,’ said Cavendish. ‘Together we’ve been at the forefront of the rise of GB cycling. He’s like my big brother. We’d die for each other, but like brothers we can also get jealous of each other and bicker. Which we do. But I’m always incredibly proud of him.’
Everyone took inspiration in rubbing with the yellow jersey. ‘As you get more and more tired, your body can’t recover fully. People react in different ways,’ explained Eisel. ‘Some talk more. Some stop talking. Some get grumpy. You see people’s true personalities, but it’s much easier to bear when your team has yellow. You know why you’re doing it.’
