Over 200 local cyclists supported yesterday’s Telethon ride from St Laurent du Var to Mandelieu, and back. As usual, the ride was monitored, marshalled, fed and watered by a large number of volunteers without whom this type of activity would simply not be possible. So, thanks guys, I had a great ride.
My clubmates wisely rode at the head of the peloton, generally a safer place to ride. I managed to hang with them, only sliding back briefly on the Garoupe climb. However, I did bob back and forth trying to say hi to those riders that I know, particularly from other clubs, returning each time to my beloved’s side.
The weather was fine but cold and even I acknowledged that it’s time for full-fingered gloves and thermal leggings. I tend to resist wearing the latter as long as possibly largely because of the time it takes me to get into them. I bought them when I first started riding. I thought I might need XL but they were too large in the beam and so bought L, without trying them on. The difference between XL and L seemed to be largely in the width of the legs and the past two winters I have taken at least 10 minutes to struggle into or out of them. My beloved reckons if he’d filmed the activity for YouTube it would have been one of their funniest and most popular videos.
It was therefore with some trepidation that I took them out of the drawer to wear this morning for the Departmental Championship. Well, all I can say is that the new regime is having some effect. While, they are still snug in the lower leg, I could slip into them with relative ease – whoopee.
Our reign as departmental champions (10 consecutive championships) was going to be under threat today thanks to either the non or late renewal of licences by a large number of members. Thankfully, the young, the old and the ladies (all high points’ scorers) turned out in their droves and I’m now anxiously awaiting the result.
Yesterday afternoon, we listened to my beloved boys in claret and blue win easily at home against lesser opposition, before heading off to watch the OGCN v Marseille derby match. I made the fatal mistake of underestimating how cold it was going to be. My layering of cashmere and down was insufficient: I should have worn old faithful. This is a black, down anorak purchased in the late 80s at half-price, but still nonetheless expensive, and which was my constant companion for football matches in the English Premiership. In fact, I recall wearing it for a whole season one year, even including the matches in July and August. It doesn’t get too many outings in Nice, just the odd match over the winter period.
OGCN, despite losing 1-3, played a blinder (a technical football term) in the first half: equalising not long after OM’s opening goal which was a brilliantly executed counter-attack, against the run of play. Sadly, we lost Apam just before half-time for elbowing Heinze. It was always going to be a struggle to contain OM with just 10 men. We ran out of steam in the last 10 minutes, succumbing to a further two goals, one of them from an OGCN old-boy – the curse of the returning player.