Three Weeks, Eight Seconds

by Tassell, Nige;

  Staying out of the public eye was probably the best course of action. ‘Monsieur Eight Seconds: just try to get your head around the weeks that followed my defeat,’ he later reflected. ‘Imagine the mocking remarks from the people who didn’t like me. Think of all the shocking, over-the-top stuff that was said and written.’

  After the Paris time trial ended, Pedro Delgado witnessed exactly what Fignon would be subjected to in the following weeks, months, even years: his fellow countrymen making no attempt to disguise their pleasure at his humiliation. ‘Not all the French people loved Fignon. After that day, I took a taxi to go to the hotel. The driver said “Ah, you are Pedro Delgado! I support you. I love you.”

  “OK, thank you, thank you.”

  “I was happy for Fignon to have lost the Tour de France.”

  “Why? You are French.”

  “He’s a bad guy. I don’t like Fignon.”

  This was not an atypical response. Fignon talked about the ‘morbid curiosity’ when he appeared in that summer’s criterium races: ‘Just imagine: “there he is”; “that’s him”; “the loser”.’ Morbid curiosity was at the paler end of the spectrum. Scorn and ridicule became the norm, the dish of the day. Every day, every single day. Fignon just had to work out strategies to cope with it without further ostracising himself from the cycling fans of his homeland. ‘You never stop grieving over an event like that; the best you can manage is to contain the effect it has on your mind.’

  Once that painful boil had cleared up, he was back in the saddle, fulfilling his criterium contracts before heading to Utrecht for the seven-stage Ronde van Nederland – aka the Tour of Holland. Just 11 seconds separated the first four in the general classification, but it was Fignon who took the overall victory, a single second the difference between him and team-mate Thierry Marie. The summer of fine margins continued.

  From there, Fignon and Marie travelled to northern Italy to create a formidable partnership at the Baracchi Trophy, a two-up time trial. With two of the world’s greatest time trialists joining forces, the result was a foregone conclusion. These wins in the Netherlands and Italy not only accelerated Fignon’s mental recuperation, but also kept him out of arms’ reach of his detractors back home.

  At the end of August, Fignon was back in the Alps for the world championships in Chambéry. But if he went there in search of revenge over LeMond, he was out of luck. His nemesis across the three weeks of the Tour wasn’t going to roll over. If fact, he wasn’t going to give Fignon an inch. On the final lap of the circuit, the Frenchman launched attack after attack. Despite being lashed by heavy rain, making visibility difficult through his spectacles, the Frenchman put in what looked like a decisive break on the sharp ascent of Côte de Montagnole, leaving the likes of LeMond and Sean Kelly in his wake as he tried to bridge the gap to the three leaders. It brought back all the memories of the Villard-de-Lans stage in the Tour, when he simply pushed down hard on the pedals and moved away from his rivals.

  This time, however, LeMond had an answer, eventually appearing on Fignon’s shoulder, having seemingly appeared from nowhere. He then gamely put in three more attacks on the damp, 60mph descent, but LeMond nullified each one, before taking the victory himself. Fignon’s only consolation was that his sixth place – allied to the wins in the Tours of Italy and Holland, and being runner-up in the Tour de France – ensured that he became the new world number one by the end of the year.

  But the pair weren’t to re-engage their rivalry in the Tour the following summer, Fignon abandoning on the fifth stage with an ankle injury. By then, his team had found a new sponsor – Castorama – in whose colours he rode to sixth place overall in 1991. His final Tour was in 1993, his final day a mountain stage into Val d’Isère. ‘I felt fantastic and attacked at the foot of the Galibier,’ he told Cycle Sport. ‘I felt I was climbing well. But in the blink of an eye, 30 riders had come past me, and I believed I was in good form. Thirty riders, just like that. And after that, I was riding with people I did not believe I would ever be riding with in the mountains. People who were riding on EPO. At that moment, I knew that I was dead. Too old. Finished. I rode in, tried to lose as little time as possible, and abandoned the race the next day.’

  Despite still being regarded as the tragic figure who lost the ’89 Tour rather than the triumphant victor of the race in both ’83 and ’84, Fignon remained in cycling after his retirement. For many years, he organised big races, such as Paris-Nice. By then, the maddeningly impetuous man he’d often been during his riding days had noticeably mellowed. Having been awarded the ‘prix citron’ by the press pack for being the rudest, most uncooperative rider on the ’89 Tour (he won by an absolute landslide), a new Fignon emerged once he was permanently out of the saddle. As Edward Pickering wrote, ‘the touchy, arrogant, over-sensitive double Tour winner/Tour loser seemed to have been left behind in the pages of old newspapers and magazines’.

  Pedro Delgado agrees. ‘A lot of people in France grew to like him later. After the Tour of 1989, his character changed totally. He was more relaxed, more friendly. For him as a person, it was better that he lost the Tour that day.’

  Not that he ever exorcised the ghosts of that final-day time trial. It not only defined his public persona, but was also a permanent presence in his psyche, as Kathy LeMond reveals. ‘A few years back, he and Greg golfed together. He told Greg losing by eight seconds had been the worst thing of his life. Greg felt so bad. Fignon said that almost every time he walked to his mailbox, he’d count out eight and say “Oh my God. Eight seconds. That’s nothing.”

  ‘Greg said that, the day they were out golfing, two different French people came up and said to him “Hey Fignon! Eight seconds!” – like he was a loser. He had to deal with that every day, instead of “Oh my gosh, you won two Tours and you also came second”. It was really a burden. But he was so, so talented. Greg said, “Can you believe he’s looked at as a failure, rather than the winner that he actually is?” We had no idea.’

  Verbal taunts weren’t the only ongoing legacy, the only still-visible scars. In the summer of 2016, the LeMonds had lunch with Fignon’s widow, who told them something astonishing. ‘After 1989,’ Kathy explains, ‘he never once set foot on the Champs-Élysées again. And he lived in Paris. For a Parisian to not go on the Champs-Élysées? How do you avoid it?’ It was the equivalent of a Manhattanite steering clear of Fifth Avenue for two whole decades, or a Londoner giving Oxford Street a permanent wide berth. For Fignon, his home city forever reminded him of that fateful Sunday in July.

  His escape from this torment was even more tragic. Having been diagnosed the previous spring, Laurent Fignon succumbed to cancer of the lungs and the digestive system on the last day of August 2010. He was 50 years old. Even in death, though, the personality traits of his younger days continued to outweigh his extremely notable achievements on a bicycle. His obituary in the New York Times bore the unbelievable headline: ‘Laurent Fignon, Gruff French Cyclist, Dies At 50’.

  ‘My career saw the end of the last untroubled age of bike racing,’ he elegantly reflected in his autobiography, published a year before his death. ‘The men of that era still looked each other in the eye. We didn’t tiptoe away when the time came to light the fuse: we preferred rousing anthems to gentle lullabies.

  ‘And we didn’t mind getting burned if necessary. A true cyclist sometimes has to bite the dust before he can reach the stars.’

  The painful warrior famoused for fight

  After a thousand victories once foil’d

  Is from the book of honour razed quite

  And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d

  William Shakespeare, Sonnet XXV

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Samuel Abt, Greg LeMond: The Incredible Comeback (Stanley Paul)

  Guy Andrews, Greg LeMond: Yellow Jersey Racer (Bloomsbury)

  Klaus Bellon Gaitán, ‘Nervous But Prepared’, in Ellis Bacon & Lionel Birnie, The Cycling Anthology, Volume Two (Yellow Jersey)

  P
eter Cossins, ‘Dutch Mountain’, in Ellis Bacon & Lionel Birnie, The Cycling Anthology, Volume Six (Peloton Publishing)

  Geoff Drake (with Jim Ochowicz), Team 7-Eleven: How an Unlikely Band of American Cyclists Took on the World – And Won (Velo Press)

  Laurent Fignon, We Were Young and Carefree (Yellow Jersey)

  William Fotheringham, ‘Napoleon’, in Ellis Bacon & Lionel Birnie, The Cycling Anthology, Volume Two (Yellow Jersey)

  William Fotheringham, Roule Britannia: A History of Britons in the Tour de France (Yellow Jersey)

  Daniel Friebe, ‘The Cognac Salesman and the Conman’, in Ellis Bacon & Lionel Birnie (eds), The Cycling Anthology, Volume Five (Yellow Jersey)

  Javier García Sanchez, Induráin: A Tempered Passion (Mousehold Press)

  Johnny Green, Push Yourself Just A Little Bit More: Backstage at the Tour de France (Orion)

  Sean Kelly, Hunger: The Autobiography (Peloton Publishing)

  Paul Kimmage, Rough Ride: Behind the Wheel with a Pro Cyclist (Yellow Jersey)

  Richard Moore, Étape: The Untold Stories of the Tour de France’s Defining Stages (Harper Sport)

  Richard Moore, In Search of Robert Millar (Harper Sport)

  Richard Moore, Slaying the Badger: LeMond, Hinault and the Greatest-Ever Tour de France (Yellow Jersey)

  Richard Nelsson (ed), The Tour De France …To the Bitter End (Guardian Books)

  Edward Pickering. ‘Superbagnères’, in Ellis Bacon & Lionel Birnie (eds), The Cycling Anthology, Volume Five (Yellow Jersey)

  Edward Pickering, The Yellow Jersey Club: Inside the Minds of the Tour de France Winners (Bantam)

  Eric Reed, Selling The Yellow Jersey: The Tour De France in the Global Era (University of Chicago Press)

  Matt Rendell, Kings of the Mountains: How Colombia’s Cycling Heroes Changed their Nation’s History (Aurum)

  Bjarne Riis, Riis: Stages of Light and Dark (Vision Sports Publishing)

  Stephen Roche, Born to Ride (Yellow Jersey)

  James Witts, The Science of the Tour de France (Bloomsbury)

  Les Woodland (ed), The Yellow Jersey Companion to the Tour de France (Yellow Jersey)

  Sean Yates, It’s All About The Bike: My Autobiography (Corgi)

  Also, back issues of Cycling Weekly, Procycling, Rouleur, Cycle Sport and L’Equipe were vital, as was the website tourfacts.dk, an invaluable repository of statistics otherwise lost to the passing of time.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I couldn’t have told this amazing story, with all its fascinating strands and diversions, without the first-hand testimony of so many who were right there in the white heat of those astonishing three weeks. It was an absolute privilege to hear the tales and opinions of many legendary names from the pro cycling ranks in the late ’80s – Alcalá, Delgado, Hampsten, Kelly, LeMond, Mottet, Riis, Roche, Sherwen, Yates and so many more. Thanks guys.

  For arranging interviews or offering up phone numbers or just passing on general encouragement, gratitude goes to Mike Anderson, Rob Banino, Ian Cleverly, Daniel Gray, Andy McGrath, Mercedes Martinez, Barry Meehan, Christel Roche, Ian Rooke, Keith Sinclair and Graham Watson. For his cover-designing skills, a salute goes out to Joe Eden at Tidydesigns.

  For their enthusiasm, knowledge, friendship and occasional translating skills, James Witts and Keith Warmington deserve their respective places right at the head of the peloton.

  For igniting each other’s passion for cycling as teenagers in the late ’80s – when we’d shimmy up lampposts to watch the likes of Roche, Kelly, Elliott and McLoughlin fly past at seemingly impossible speeds – a shout-out to my old pals Steve Cooper and Martin Stanton.

  Thanks to Mogwai whose score for the film Zidane proved a suitably epic, but not intrusive, soundtrack to long writing shifts. Similarly, on the home stretch, my own blast down the Champs-Élysées against the clock, British Sea Power’s euphoric Machineries of Joy fired me towards the finish line.

  A hearty tip of the hat goes to Pete Burns at Polaris for his editorial rigour, unflagging enthusiasm and flexible concept of deadlines. Also, much gratitude to my steady, wise and graceful agent Kevin Pocklington, Guimard to my Fignon (maybe). Chapeau to you both.

  But the biggest thanks go to Jane, Finn and Ned for their patience, tolerance and understanding. The man with his head in his laptop at the other end of the kitchen table loves you very much.

  Illustrations

  In April 1987, Greg LeMond lies in a Sacramento hospital bed following extensive surgery after being accidentally shot in a hunting accident by his brother-in-law. His wife Kathy describes his body, decimated by buckshot, as being ‘like a colander’. Offside/Presse Sports

  After arriving at the Prologue time trial in Luxembourg nearly three minutes late, defending champion Pedro Delgado finds a long, lonely road ahead of him if he is now to challenge for the yellow jersey. Offside/Presse Sports

  The following morning, last-placed Delgado discusses his predicament with the new Tour director, Jean-Marie Leblanc. That afternoon, he would lose even more time after a disastrous team time trial. Offside/Presse Sports

  Laurent Fignon (centre) is in jubilant mood after leading his Super U squad to an imposing win in the team time trial. Tour debutant and future champion Bjarne Riis (far left) has just won a stage on his first full day in the race. Offside/Presse Sports

  Stage 5 finishes in Belgium, in the unlikely setting of the Spa-Francorchamps motor-racing circuit, home of the Belgian Grand Prix. ‘When you see Formula 1 cars going round it at x miles an hour,’ says Sean Kelly, ‘you don’t realise how steep the bloody hill is.’ Offside/Presse Sports

  Raúl Alcalä takes the applause following his victory at Spa-Francorchamps. Having recently moved from the American 7-Eleven team to the Dutch PDM squad, he becomes the first Mexican rider to win a stage of the Tour. Offside/Presse Sports

  After an encouraging start to the race, Greg LeMond sits in quiet contemplation ahead of Stage 5, the time trial between Dinard and Rennes in Brittany. The American has earmarked the 45-mile stage to be a measure of his form and fitness. Offside/Presse Sports

  On the road to Rennes, LeMond overtakes the Super U rider Christophe Lavainne, one of several riders he passes on the time trial. Not only does his phenomenal ride give him his first Tour stage win in three years, it also puts him in the yellow jersey. Offside/Presse Sports

  Roared on by thousands of flag-waving Basques, Miguel Induráin launches a surprising solo attack on the first day in the Pyrenees. He manages to sustain his advantage until the finish in Cauterets – the first of only two non-time trial stages the Spaniard would win in a career that saw him take the overall Tour title five times. Offside/Presse Sports

  Escorted by his Fagor team-mate and compatriot Paul Kimmage, Ireland’s Stephen Roche limps towards the finish at Cauterets after banging an already injured knee on his handlebar. He withdrew the following morning, but had been determined to finish the stage. ‘You might not start the next day, but you never abandon.’ Offside/Presse Sports

  Robert Millar nips past Pedro Delgado to take the stage win at the ski-station of Superbagnères. A classic mountain stage, it was also the Scotsman’s third – and probably best – win in the Pyrenees. Offside/Presse Sports

  On the scorching hot Bastille Day stage between Montpellier and Marseille, Frenchmen Charly Mottet and Laurent Fignon launch a joint attack, much to the surprise and consternation of their rivals near the top of the general classification. Offside/Presse Sports

  Steven Rooks of the Netherlands wins the mountain time trial into Orcières-Merlette, showing exactly why he finished runner-up to Pedro Delgado in the 1988 race. Offside/Presse Sports

  Sean Kelly had a superb Tour, taking the green points jersey – for the most consistent finisher – for a fourth time. For a big man more familiar with duking it out in sprint finishes, he climbed the race’s sky-high peaks brilliantly. Offside/Presse Sports

  Wearing the polka-dot jersey of the King of the Mountains leader, Gert-Ja
n Theunisse scores a classic victory at Alpe d’Huez, the latest in a series of Dutch riders to win big on the totemic mountain. Graham Watson

  Laurent Fignon leads the race’s top five riders – (left to right) Greg LeMond, Gert-Jan Theunisse, Pedro Delgado and Marino Lejarreta – into Aix-les-Bains. The order in which they finished on the stage mirrored the order in which they finished overall in Paris. Offside/Presse Sports

  Facing a 50-second deficit – but with the advantage of those controversial aerobars – Greg LeMond considers the task at hand as he leaves Versailles on the heart-stopping final-day time trial. Offside/Presse Sports

  As the last man to go in the final time trial, Laurent Fignon knows how quickly LeMond is riding on the road ahead. Powering along the banks of the Seine, the Frenchman is nonetheless shedding significant time to the American. Offside/Presse Sports

  Having safely negotiated the hairpin in front of the Arc de Triomphe, LeMond now rides flat out down the Champs-Élysées. Does he dare to believe that he’s making the impossible possible? Getty Images

  LeMond is flabbergasted at receiving confirmation that Fignon has fallen short by just eight seconds after three weeks of intense racing. It is one of the greatest sporting comebacks of all time. Offside/Presse Sports

  Having collapsed at the finish line, Fignon is inconsolable at learning that his fastest-ever time trial was still not enough to prevent defeat. He describes himself as being ‘like a boxer who’s concussed’. Graham Watson