CYCLING – The next day always tastes like the “Day After”. Precisely. The next day you know you’ve had a great day of sport. But not only because the Giro d’Italia is much more. And cycling, just review the images of the last two kilometers and of Lucca from above, is a saraband of emotions, an amazing involvement of hearts and sensations that still make it a loved and popular sport today.
With your heart in your mouth, the notebook in your hand and the microphone almost acting as a prosthesis for the person speaking to you, testifying to an ageless passion. Chasing the protagonists until you catch one because you have to wait for the mixed zone. And then the people, but how many people, along the barriers you see the gentleman grayed with age who remembers Moser and Hinault but also the young man and the children who are there who knows to tell one day, perhaps in 2060, “Do you know that day in Lucca I was there”. And to roll the eyes and clap the hands of Pogacar, a gentleman in pink who, seen up close, looks like a kid, but who has all the class and the intention of taking this shirt all the way to Rome. And the Frenchman Thomas (in the photo) who is living his day of glory, who resists the return of that red arrow, sorry pink, which is the group that hurtles like this at sixty miles per hour under the “flame rouge” of the last kilometer. An engaging and spectacular sensation. Inebriating that leaves you almost exhausted and without strength but that you wish it were tomorrow without waiting another 39 years. Maybe a little too many.
