UCI World Road Race Championships 2011

Don't you just love it when a plan comes together?

It's not immediately apparent, but Mark Cavendish's World Championships victory was underpinned at the Tour of Poland in mid-August. There, in the final throes of the period for qualifying riders for the World Championships, Great Britain managed to bolster their tally of riders for the Worlds from 5 to 8 by virtue of Peter Kennaugh, Steve Cummings and Adam Blythe all scoring World Ranking points. Up to that point, Britain's status amongst the top 10 nations in the rankings was made by points contributions from Ben Swift, David Millar, Bradley Wiggins, Geraint Thomas and, of course, Cavendish himself.

In Copenhagen for the Road Race Worlds, the team of Cavendish, Wiggins, Millar, Thomas, Cummings along with Vuelta a Espana revelation Chris Froome, reliable domestique Jeremy Hunt and burgeoning Classics specialist Ian Stannard lined up with one plan, and one plan only; bring Mark Cavendish to the finish in a bunch sprint. The expected early breakaway formed in the first hour - it contained riders from Spain and France, but was never a major worry even though it experienced a maximum lead of around eight minutes.

Even during those early laps, it was Britain who were doing much of the pacesetting. There were sporadic contributions from Germany working for Andre Greipel (and even more sporadically from USA for Farrar), but the line of red and blue jerseys were constantly prominent. The first real worry for the British team came earlier than expected, when a dangerous move went clear with over 100km still to race; a move of seven riders containing in its midst Johan Vansummeren, the man who won Paris-Roubaix from a similar breakaway and the Italian Luca Paolini. Still Great Britain worked hard on the front, as commentators, the peloton and half of the Twittersphere raised a collective eyebrow at their tactics.

Theirs was a tactic of containment; not chase down every attack with immediate urgency, but ride a consistently high tempo that discourages attacking riding whilst limiting the deficit to the riders ahead. Chris Froome was a real workhorse, as was Steve Cummings, both riders in form having reached the podium in their tune up races. Froome in particular was seen towards the back with about an hour to go, then astonishingly recovered to do further turns at the front again and even got onto the back of a breakaway move late on, albeit very briefly. A mid-race crash derailed the chances of the defending champion Thor Hushovd, but Norway still had Edvald Boasson Hagen in the lead group, hiding in the wheels alongside all the other sprint favourites; Farrar, Greipel, Sagan, Freire.

As the race wore on, it was apparent that the front straight, and a small climb on the back of the circuit, were the only two places on the lap that could provide the launchpad for an attack. Strong groups went away every time, but the dangerous groups never got a significant gap - no more than a minute or so. Belgium were the chief aggressors - at one point having four riders clear in two different groups - but Italy and certainly Spain were strangely passive, almost handing the race to the British contingent, alongside the Australians who were beginning to mass their troops in the last couple of laps. It would have been easy enough to get a British rider in the break from their front position, and many questioned why they did not do so (as it would put the onus on other teams to chase) but they doggedly stuck to their task, putting their faith in their pace-setting ability.

Although groups were getting away and putting Britain on the defensive, an obvious lack of cohesion in any of the attackers was hampering their efforts.The front group started to attack each other as behind, Lars Bak gave the home fans something to cheer by jumping clear. Then the ever courageous Thomas Voeckler joined the fray inside two laps to go and a break of three formed. Still, however, the team pursuit-like formation of the British team hovered within sight. An Irish jersey - possibly Matt Brammier - was seen towards the front a lap and a half out, a likely alliance in service of the British. Norway provided a helping hand, with two riders setting tempo for Boasson Hagen. Cummings, Froome and Hunt were tailed off, exhausted by the effort of staying on the front for 200km - a supreme job of work done. Cavendish, content to sit in the middle of the bunch early on, was now never less than 10 or 20 places back from the front of the peloton, rarely leaving the wheel of Thomas.

As the bell sounded for the final lap to commence, the expected attacks from the likes of Phillipe Gilbert and Fabian Cancellara never came, as the bunch seemed to be resigned to a bunch sprint. Either that or the presence of a relatively fresh Wiggins smashed the final climb to the bell, setting a savage pace and riding David Millar off his wheel momentarily. Wiggins, who had looked comfortable throughout, single-handedly brought back the breakaway, which had swelled to four with the attack of Johnny Hoogerland. The time trial specialist (who had himself won a silver medal for that event earlier in the week) set the tempo for half a lap, swinging over only when absolutely spent, with the Australian team hovering ominously as the Brits were down to three.

Ian Stannard took over from Wiggins, with Thomas second wheel and Cavendish behind. Six Australians immediately overhauled them, with a fresh Italian team also lined out alongside them. The Spanish team were trying to bring Oscar Freire into the mix. The Germans took a turn on the front. All were looking to get the advantage from essentially being carried the entire race by the British team. Suddenly The British jerseys were no longer visible at the front.

Inside the last two kilometres, Cavendish was about thirty places back. The peloton was fanned out across the road, with no one team in complete control, although the Australians were still well organised in a line. The three remaining Brits were too, to some extent, but squeezed to the right hand side as Stannard sprinted through a gap and tried to bring his two teammates with him. He failed, but deposited Cavendish on the back of the Australian train, who were looking to set up Milan-Sanremo winner Matt Goss. As the race turned the final corner, Stannard was on the front with Thomas still on his wheel, but no Cavendish. His path was cut off but he seemed happy to follow the wheel of Goss. The fact that Goss - normally a teammate of his at HTC-Highroad - has been his leadout man on many occasions (most notably at the Vuelta a Espana) probably influenced this decision, as Thomas swung off looking for his sprinter, but Cavendish remained put.

500 metres to go. The race clock read over 5 and a half hours, but in reality, the culmination of a project going back years was reaching its climax. The best British road squad ever had done its job - delivering Cavendish in an almost ideal position, albeit slightly improvised. As the Australians - still with four riders - started its final leadout, the overhead shot showed Cavendish completely boxed. But the tough uphill finish favoured a rider going late, and when Goss opened his sprint, it also opened the gap for Cavendish to shoot out of the box. He jumped over Goss and got a bike length almost immediately but then the deceptive severity climb started to seep into his legs. Head down, grimacing and pushing for all he was worth, he ground his way to the line as Goss started to close once more.

But it wasn't enough. Cavendish raised his arms in celebration, with Goss in second. Andre Greipel of Germany, a long-time rival and foe of Cavendish, took third and was the first to congratulate the Manxman. Fabian Cancellara had his best ever road race, but failed by a tyre's width to land a medal. A victory for Cavendish, but in reality the whole of the British team should take a bow. Captained by Dave Millar, they bossed the peloton from start to finish, and Cavendish, given the responsibility, didn't dare to fail. 46 years after Tom Simpson wore the rainbow stripes, Mark Cavendish of Great Britain pulled on that famous jersey.

Some musings on the Chinese Grand Prix

Sunday's Chinese Grand Prix produced one of the most frantic, action-packed races (certainly in the dry) that F1 has seen for many a year. A combination of tyre strategies, KERS, DRS and some good old-fashioned wheel-to-wheel racing kept us guessing right to the very end. There were a couple of intriguing asides to this race that occured, which I will attempt to cover here.

Cycling-style 'echelons' in F1?

DRS appeared, at least in China, to produce a secondary effect alongside its raison d'etre to produce more overtaking. Around the middle of the first stint it was apparent that the field had broken up into distinct packs, that were not necessarily due to slower cars being out of position holding up a train of rivals behind. 

Here is what I believe is happening. After two laps the DRS system is activated. By this point, the natural field spread of the pack of cars means that each driver is spaced roughly around a second or so apart (the aero of the cars this year allowing drivers to run much more closely to each other - interestingly, in amongst KERS/DRS and tyres, this point seems to have been lost slightly). Crucially, the DRS activation point is set up for cars being within a second of the one in front.

So say driver A is at the front of a pack, with drivers, B, C and D all being within that one second window, but driver E is 1.1 seconds behind D. Assuming A has the quickest raw pace (a reasonable assumption), drivers B, C and D (who now have DRS activated) gain in lap time due to deploying DRS and concertina behind A (while the principal effect of DRS, to aid overtaking, is negated). Meanwhile, driver E cannot use DRS and so loses the propensity to gain that extra half second or so, and so falls back. It essentially allows the (slower-in-raw-pace-terms) cars B-D to run at car A's quicker race pace, while E misses the cut.

It's analogous to the race patterns in road cycling, particularly of the so-called echelons that form in crosswinds. Being in echelon formation (a line of riders across the road, sheltering from the effective wind direction) allows the riders to utilise the lower wind resistance to maintain their position. But fall from the pack momentarily and suddenly being exposed to the extra resistance and get dropped quickly and never regain that position therein unless the pace eases in front.

This was apparent in China, as after about 10 laps there were about four distinct 'groups' on the road, all running nose-to-tail within those groups, but the groups themselves spaced a good few seconds apart. We had:

But-Ham-Vet (covered by 2 sec)
...3 sec gap to...
Ros-Mas-Alo (< 1.8s)
...7s...
DiR-Sut-Kob-MSc (2.2s)
...3s...
Pet
...4s...
Alg-Bue-Hei-Per-Web-Bar (2.6s)
...and the backmarkers

Of course, the tyre strategy had a greater bearing on the final result, in reality, but is an interesting side point none-the-less.

Strategy begins on Saturday

Well, in truth it has done (in various guises) for a number of years - fuel levels, tyre choices and the like have often had to be set before qualifying. But here, qualifying strategy is becoming so integrated with the race strategy, especially with the three-part system affording drivers the opportunity to save fresh sets of tyres for the race. Mark Webber's stunning drive showed the importance of doing so (as, to some extent, did Lewis Hamilton's race). 

This gives rise to some interesting quandries. For instance, is there any real advantage to starting 10th over 11th? If a driver makes the top-10 shootout, might he elect not to even set a time in Q3 and save a set of tyres - particularly if he does not expect to get much higher than 7th or 8th? On tracks with high tyre wear it might be an advantage to use a set of primes for Q1, a set of options for Q2 and save four sets of fresh tyres for the race. In fact, in Canada, one might envisage doing Q1 and Q2 (and potentially, but unlikely, Q3) on the same set of tyres (qualifying...wherever) and have five sets of tyres fresh for the GP itself. After all, if tracks like Melbourne and China are producing three-stop optimum races, then Canada must surely see four stops (at least!). 

Also, is the fabled 'undercut' (where you pit a lap earlier than your rival on track - often at the end of the first stint - thus gaining a 2-3 second advantage with that out lap on fresh tyres) even worth it this year? Surely at some point you have to pay that lap back, perhaps by making your final stop a lap earlier, at which point the situation might turn on its head at the end of the race if your tyres fall off the performance cliff on the last lap when your rival's don't.

Scrapping tooth and nail for grid slots and burning up new rubber seems to be less worth it in 2011-spec F1 when overtaking is demonstrably possible. Furthermore, the differential in lap times available to fresh-tyre runners (Webber, for instance, was lapping at up to 3 seconds a lap faster than his teammate in the final stint) appears to be overcoming the advantage of being a few slots up the grid and the gaining few seconds of field-spread in the earlier stages of the race.

We shall, of course, see in due course.

Tour Of Flanders

The last hour or so of the 2011 Ronde Van Vlaanderen produced probably the most exciting racing to be found all year, indeed perhaps in many a year. I joined the race coverage at this point, with Sylvain Chavanel in the lead, having just dropped his fellow escape artists Edvald Boasson Hagen and Lars Boom.

Here, back home, cup of tea was made as I waited for the Fabian Cancellara show to begin. Then, in just that short time, boom! (No, not Boom). Tom Boonen attacked. Quite why he attacked, with his teammate in the lead, I don't know. Perhaps even Tornado Tom himself doesn't get that one, since all it achieved was to draw out Cancellara into the inevitable counter punch. Cleverly, he used the ailing Boasson Hagen and Boom (who were going backwards quickly) as a buffer, skipping round the pair on a narrow, crowd-lined section of road - thereby blocking the way for the following Boonen. Tom had no response. The Tornado, it seemed, had blown.

Cancellara, (the hurricane in all this meteorological metaphor) was on a charge. Still with 50km to ride to the finish line, he decided that this was the moment. Was this the error? Did Fabian simply believe his own hype, his own invincibility? Whatever, Fabian did what Fabian does. He hammered at the pedals, rapidly eating up the ground between him and the still-leading Chavanel. Our frontrunner relented, and the catch was complete as Fabian took over the pace. A flick of Swiss elbow yielded no response, as Sylvain did the only sensible thing and lock onto the wheel of Cancellara.

And so it was that the greatest pursuit match of them all began. Cancellara versus the world, versus the peloton, versus the climbs, the cobbles, the works. BMC, a squad boasting some of the finest classics men in the field, committed almost their entire workforce to the chase, and even they struggled to bring him back. The gap hovered at a minute. Still Chavanel clung on to that wheel for all he was worth, and he was worth a hell of a lot today.

The writing, it seemed, was on the wall. And, in a sense it was, for the Wall of Geraardsbergen and its cracked cobbles cracked Fabian, aided undoubtedly by the man of the moment, Phillipe Gilbert (and that BMC TTT effort). Unperturbed, Cancellara went again over the top of the climb, forcing a selection of five. Most of the names were present - enough, surely to carve the spoils between them?

Again, they were foiled. Enter (stage left) a Welsh Dragon, young Geraint Thomas, who pulled and then pulled some more for his man Flecha who had missed seemingly the crucial move. The chasers poised to bridge on the Bosberg, but then Gilbert went for glory. The group imploded on the berg, and Cancellara was beaten. Even then they wouldn't work with him, as Scheirlinckx followed his every sway and stagger with laser precision, as Chavanel once more flew free over the summit in chase. Gilbert was brought back. That man Thomas once again hauled himself back into the second group of chasers, then brought that group up to the leaders.

None of these riders, by the way, would win the race.

Today everyone said ‘I am Spartacus’. A flurry of attacks followed from the twelve-strong lead group, perhaps buoyed by the great man’s infallibility, before Cancellara summoned (from where I do not know) one final effort to reduce the final selection to three (as if to say, ‘No, boys, this is how you do it’). In the selection was Fabian himself, of course, plus the indefatigable Chavanel and a previously anonymous Nick Nuyens. Cancellara and Chavanel shook hands, proving that the kinship in survival and suffering overcomes competition and corporate clothing. That so, a race was still there to be won. Comrades no longer, Cancellara found himself (where else?) but hung out to dry on the front as the race entered its final turns. He had no choice but to go early - too early - as Boonen broke free of the chasers and threatened to unleash his formidable finish. As he opened up the sprint, all those efforts - the break, the catch, the counter, the chase - all that pain seeped into Fabian's sizeable quads and he began to falter. A man of that frame punches a big hole in the air, and sprinting behind Cancellara must be like sprinting in free space. Suddenly, free space was all Nick Nuyens could see in front of him. Then a finish line. Then a win, no, the win.

And the best bit? Next week we do it all again. Roubaix waits.

The Program Initiative (+The Longest Day+A Ninja Slob Drew Me), Southampton Joiners, 18/03/11

I first caught Southampton band The Program Initiative performing a half-hour set opening for Maybeshewill last month. I was suitably impressed to check out their headline show, the opening date of their tour to promote the release of debut album 'Mercury [Phase 1]'. For the meagre sum of five pounds, the line-up looked an intriguing one throughout.

First up were A Ninja Slob Drew Me, an unusual two piece fronted by a man playing an eight-string bass guitar and sidekicked by the increasingly familiar laptop...operator (you'd hasten to say 'player') controlling the beats/electronics. (At least I think so, for all we know he could be having a bit of a dance while playing Minesweeper). The combination worked well; the bass guitar was exploited to the full limits of its potential and when combined with a range of pedals produced an array of clever sounds, allowing the band to explore typical loud/quiet/heavy (pleasingly heavy at times) dynamics expected in instrumental music. However, there is only so much variation possible in such a limited set-up, and at over thirty minutes the set dragged a little towards the end.

The Longest Day were your typical post-hardcore rock outfit - a surplus of hair and black clothing abounded  while the four likely lads on show ploughed through  a set of choppy riffs, thunderous drumming and off-kilter rhythms. File generally under 'nothing new to see here', although that is to do something of a disservice to the fact that they were a strong, technically tight band with some good ideas. As a pleasing bonus, the singer really could sing and never once resorted to the distortion-heavy screamo that so often permeates this type of music (not that that is necessarily a bad thing). For the last song, he even invited the crowd to possibly feel free to move around a bit. Sorry guys, this is a postrock show, we don't do that kind of thing here. He would have had far more success asking us to stare longinly at our shoes and scratch our collective chins thoughtfully.

The Longest Day

And so, beyond 10pm, enter The Program Initiative. Now, some bands have toyed with the idea of a concept album. TPI are essentially a concept band, existing at the centre of a make-believe story centred around the fictional 'Kepler Corporation' and their attempts to investigate 'The Anomaly', a strange entity that engulfs our Sun. So far, so sci-fi. As a band, TPI play typically epic instrumental rock, glacial and powerful at its slowest times, punishing at others. They recall the usual influences in the genre, but also retain (appropriately) a space-rock feel to them, helped by the bright synth chords and driving rhythm section that occasionally brings to mind, say, Secret Machines, particularly on opener 'Beneath The Plume', which combined with the shuttle launch footage really sets the tone well and is an early highlight.

The Program Initiative broadcast to the Joiners

What sets them apart is the fact that this takes place in the midst of a 60-minute film based around the storyline of the Kepler Corporation and projected onto a canvas screen placed in front of the stage (such that we do not see the band behind). There is no band introduction, no between song banter, the foursome are there solely to provide the music to the production. At its core, then, the TPI project is the ultimate music video, where the live music is intertwined with the visuals - mesmerising, occasionally stunning as they are.- to create a single piece of art. Songs come to a conclusion; but there is no applause. Instead the audience is held captive by the advancement of the (admittedly quite thin) storyline, where mock interviews, press conferences, news reports and the like put flesh on the otherwise quite abstract flashes of film to which the band soundtrack. A small technical hitch midway through spoilt the illusion somewhat (featuring the unwanted appearance of a Mac drop-down menu) and some of the rear-most audience members annoyingly insisted on talking through the quiet parts. If this was a proper cinema they'd have surely been dragged out quite quickly. The band make a brief 'appearance' towards the end, where the stage is lit behind the screen for a final flourish (ironically, to play album opener 'Commencement') before one final surprise to truly bring the experience of the previous hour to life. 

  

Film ends, lights up on stage and we see the band for the first time.

The Program Initiative are nothing short of fascinating. The experience is occasionally slightly overwhelming; that is to say that it is sometimes easy to forget in the midst of all that is going on that one is at a (post) rock gig at heart. Plus, nothing screams 'nerd' quite like a combination of instrumental rock and science fiction. But choose to buy into it and prepare for a special, and pretty unique, experience.