Categories: Anatomy of a Photo

Anatomy of a Photo: Fausto Coppi

The killer's look

A lot has been made lately of the fact that riders today are lacking a little bit of the V. It’s not so much a criticism of how they conduct themselves during a race (although that has also been called into question lately), but in their general demeanor towards their life as a cyclist.

It doesn’t surprise me much; historically, riders chose a life on the bike as an escape from their other occupational choice which typically involved hard manual labor in a dark pit or on a cold field whereas today’s riders generally come from more privileged backgrounds and find their way into this world from a life of relative luxury.

A life of hardship went beyond their working-class roots, it applied to their life on the bike as well.  They scaled the same passes we do today, except they did it over dirt roads aboard heavy, flexy bikes with relaxed geometries, wearing what amounted to little more than leather loafers. Hardness wasn’t something to aspire to; it was simply the way it was.

This is one of my favorite photos of a cyclist, and the bicycle is nowhere to be seen. From the look on his face, Coppi just ate himself a Schlecklette and, based on the gesture he’s making, is preparing to drop trou and shit ‘im right back out.

To put Cipollini’s sentiments above into Coppi’s words:

Age and treachery will overcome youth and skill.

To todays generation of riders, I offer this advice: take no prisoners, fucktards.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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  • As long as we are talking about il campionissimo, I feel compelled to note that the Giro starts in 10 days. W il Giro!

  • I'd suggest a new term is appropriate following Sunday's wimper of a finish: "Schlecking." A precise definition would take some collective thought, but a starting point for discussion might be that Schlecking is "being such a big pussy that you don't even try to attack a rival you have outnumbered 2 to 1 in the final 10k of a one day Classic, the cycling equivalent to a canine rolling over and peeing on itself in submission upon mere sight of another canine."

    I'm glad to see the quote regarding attacking and attacking until you blow up and finish last as opposed to sitting in and finishing 23rd. Now THAT dude was a real cyclist. I just cannot fathom having a chance to win in the last 10k of a one day Classics race, with numbers (your brother nonetheless), and not burying yourself with attacks to go for the win. The guy who attacks himself into blowing up would be remembered more for his effort than whoever it is that got 2nd place. Unless, that is, you are notoriously remembered for Schlecking yourself to 2nd or 3rd.

  • Schlecking. I like it.

    As for this idea of fighting for a win and being happier with 23rd than 3rd, this is exactly how I feel about a sport I grew playing up, lacrosse. The entire sport used to be about speed & scoring. Games were 21-20, 18-16, tons of goals, tons of speed. In the past few years teams have started using zone defenses and all these set offenses. Pure craziness and something we didn't do at all. Now many college games are 8-6 or 7-5 encounters. It saddens me. I hardly recognize a sport I grew up loving.

    I'd rather play an up tempo game and lose 21-20 than strangle the life out of a game playing a zone and win 6-5.

    Schlecking it is disappointing no matter what sport you are considering.

  • Ron :
    Schlecking. I like it. [stuff deleted] Schlecking it is disappointing no matter what sport you are considering.

    Certainly good use of the term, however we use the term in my neck of the woods to indicate when one "schelecks" their chain on a ride.

  • @Il buccaneero Great idea, but I am afraid it has become so common in the post COTHO days that it might defy a definition.

    @wiscot I am not sure, but that guy in the Norfolk might be Brian Williams.(Always suspected he time traveled.)

  • @Mikeweb
    That's kind of what I was thinking. All those BITD badasses seemed like they were always just coming out of or going into a World War or some such nonsense.

  • Sorry for the thread hijack but I had to share this since it is somewhat related
    .
    From: Dads are the Original Hipsters

    "Your dad donned cycling caps before you did and he has the bike sweat-filled brim to prove it. Back when Lance Armstrong was swinging two deep and Velocity was only a term used to reference speed, your dad was hyping bike brands on his head. He would flip the shit out of that brim so all the pedal homies could see his laser gaze. He was raw, unbridled, rolling seduction that left a contrail of masculinity with every crank turn.

    So hipsters, next time you're dick up to a bike seat on a fixie, flashing velo gang colors on the brim of your "trying to hard to be original" hat, remember this...

    You'll always be training wheels in comparison to your dad."

  • @Il buccaneero

    I'd suggest a new term is appropriate following Sunday's wimper of a finish: "Schlecking." A precise definition would take some collective thought, but a starting point for discussion might be that Schlecking is "being such a big pussy that you don't even try to attack a rival you have outnumbered 2 to 1 in the final 10k of a one day Classic, the cycling equivalent to a canine rolling over and peeing on itself in submission upon mere sight of another canine."

    Love the sentiment and the term and agree completely with the DuDu approach to racing. Can't understand someone racing for second place, thinking that's good enough. One person wins, everyone else is a loser, in the truest sense of the word in that they LOST.

    That said, as someone who didn't watch the race live and has watched it already knowing the result and having read what has been said here, you don't need a degree in psychology or be an expert in bike racing to watch that video and see that the Schlecks were completely cooked. I think the sad little accelerations by Frank were all there was in the tank, and Gilbert was just incredible. Personally, I think it was all they could do to stay on the wheel.

    Calling them pussies is all fun and games, but these lads were completely fried and I personally can't fault them for managing to stay on an incredible Gilbert's wheel. But if it gives us a great term like "Schlecking", I'm all for it.

    But I'm a hopeless Frandy fan capable of any rationalization required to redeem them in my mind.

  • @GottaRideToday

    Certainly good use of the term, however we use the term in my neck of the woods to indicate when one "schelecks" their chain on a ride.

    Right, I do that too. We'll have to add that for sure. Although it's in place already for Schleckanical. We'll have to be careful not to mix terms too much.

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