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They have never met before, he and this monstrous Alpine pass. Today the Galibier a persistent rain also affects it and climbing 18 km to the top, at 2645 metres, is an even rougher mission. Outside would be the July 27, 1998but it doesn’t seem like it. Tour de Francefifteenth stage: Grenoble-Les Deux Alpes, a maze of cyanide hairpin bends for the already worn calves of the caravan. If you then add that the race is led by someone who looks like a cyborg, namely Jan Ullrichyou almost wonder who makes you do it, to squeeze yourself. And yet certain feats are born precisely from sporting desperation. And remembering them now, with a new Tour just started, does even more good to the heart.
Mark Pantani he knows that at the start he is 3’01” away from his invulnerable rival, but he is determined not to give in to despair. This could be the stage that sucks away all his last energy, or the fast track to an unthinkable redemption. He just won the Giro and even took the satisfaction of an intermediate success down here. The belly could therefore be close to saturation, if one were a normal guy. However, he pedals outside these perimeters.
Even though it is the first time he has attempted to tame the treacherous French hill, the route has been studied in depth. He knows its intricacies and nuances. He knows that the steepest section awaits him in the last 10 km, when the gradient flatly refuses to go below 8-9%. At the start he grips the handlebar grip tightly and, behind the lenses of his iconic phosphorescent yellow frame, gathers the necessary mental energy. To unseat Ullrich and rise to the rank of new chansonnier of the Tour would require a memorable performance.
There are two cases, as often happens in life. He could decide to stay in the wake, clinging to the leading group until the last and steepest stretch, the one where all the energy contained in his body explodes, standing on the pedals, towards glory. Or, but it’s riskier, leave on a solitary escape from far away, taking the feudal ruler from Rostock by surprise: choosing this option could explode in the middle of the attempt. If there is any doubt about the strategy he will adopt, it is almost immediately dispelled. Marco does not flirt with half measures. If he wants something, he chooses to go and get it.
So one starts surreal escape 50 km long, his body soaked in sweat and rain, the face covered in amazement of the group who saw him break away so soon, the disdain of Ullrich who thought he was untouchable, and instead he had to pedal harder. However, no one keeps up with the pirate. Not even Jan, who surprisingly becomes painfully late. Pantani gets on the pedals to the incredulity of the television commentators, who immediately express their doubts, fearing the risk that he might deflate in the middle of the attempt, that his act is an act of cycling hubris that is destined to pay dearly.
Instead Marco leaves and never stops. He gets to the end, triumphing with about a minute and a half over Massi and Escartin, who heroically try to maintain a glimmer of dignity.
The one that loses Ullrich, who arrives struggling nine minutes later, his face contracted in a mask of authentic suffering, the widened pupils of someone who seems to have seen a ghost pass in front of him. The antechamber of the yellow jersey is here, along with a memorable lesson: on the crests of life you have to stand on the pedals.
