Remco Evenepoel had the rainbow jersey from the time trial packed in his bag. In the road race, won by American Brandon McNulty, he was nowhere near the front.
The title was decided without him: McNulty broke clear of the group of favourites 32 kilometres from the finish and rode away to victory. DH consultant Johan Museeuw summed up the afternoon: “A race without radios and without Pogačar, what suspense it makes!”
Evenepoel, for his part, was clear, speaking to RTBF: “It was a bit of a bad day. There’s no secret to it. On a course like this, you need very good legs to be ready to race. A shame that bad day fell on this particular Sunday. That’s it, no excuse.”
No excuse. That’s when the Brabant Walloon cyclo picked up the phone.
A bad day, I know it well. I have one every Sunday, at twenty past nine. Except he says no excuse, and I’ve got an entire column: the backpack, the café, the red light in Oudenaarde, a headwind both ways, the bloke weaving about in front of me. Last Sunday I did the Kwaremont in eleven minutes twelve. Take off the backpack and the café: then we can talk. He wrapped his bad day up in four sentences and closed the file. Me, I need the whole morning and a second coffee. I’m not saying I’m ready for the Europeans. I’m saying he’s racing them next Sunday, and I’m heading out again next Sunday too. At the café, we argued till noon about who had the better excuse.
The calendar doesn’t leave much time to fill a column, in any case: Remco Evenepoel is due to race the European Championships the following Sunday. Xavier, who has no championship but does have a club run, promises to arrive on time. Well, at twenty past nine.
It’s true, we checked: 7sur7.
