Legends by the Fireplace

What if the greatest champions in cycling history gathered around a fireplace, a good bottle of wine in hand, to talk about modern cycling? We imagined this improbable scene where Eddy Merckx, Bernard Hinault, Jacques Anquetil, Miguel Indurain, and Fausto Coppi would discuss the performances of today’s stars: Remco Evenepoel, Tadej Pogacar, Wout van Aert, Mathieu van der Poel and co. Beware, it’s going to be wild!

By Jeff Tatard – Photos: X – Grok / istockphoto.com

A chalet lost in the Alps, snow covering the peaks. Inside, the atmosphere is warm. The fire crackles in the hearth, illuminating the faces of five cycling legends seated around a glass of Barolo, brought by Fausto Coppi. Anecdotes fly, egos clash, but tonight, modern cycling is at the heart of the debate.

Fausto Coppi (elegantly raising his glass):

“Gentlemen, I must say that this Italian wine is as subtle and intense as a time trial in the Dolomites. But let’s talk instead about these young champions. This Remco Evenepoel, he attacks like a madman! Do you think he could have prevailed in our era?”

Eddy Merckx (displaying a satisfied smile):

“Remco, yes… He has talent. A lot of talent. But he reminds me of someone (he points to himself with a wink). Me. Less complete, of course. And without my panache.”

Bernard Hinault (bursting out laughing):

“You think everyone resembles you, Eddy! But Remco, he’s good, I’ll grant you that. Yet, he lacks a bit of… toughness. A good crash or two, that would help him understand what a true champion is! Me, I would get back up with an injured knee to finish the job.”

Jacques Anquetil (sighing, glass in hand):

“Always the same old song, Bernard. Let’s talk instead about Pogacar. This kid, he’s an artist. He attacks in the mountains, on descents, he sprints… but he races too much. Eventually, he’ll wear himself out. Me, I did the bare minimum. Elegance is winning with the least possible effort.”

Miguel Indurain (calm and composed):

“Pogacar, he’s incredible. But have you seen how he climbs? It looks like he has a turbo in his legs. Me, just watching him, I want to get my bike out… and then I remember that I love peace and quiet too much.”

Fausto Coppi (pouring more wine):

“But the true gladiators are Van Aert and Van der Poel. Those two, they fight as if their lives depended on every race. But tell me, Jacques, doesn’t it strike you as odd to see the grandson of your enemy Poulidor winning everything he wants?”

Jacques Anquetil (raising his head, stung):

“Van der Poel, yes… a hell of a rider. But when I see his name, I always think of his grandfather, Poulidor. He, at least, I knew he would never finish ahead of me.”

Eddy Merckx (teasing):

“Are you sure he didn’t beat you sometimes, Jacques? Or was it the cognac playing tricks on you?”

Anquetil (feigning indifference):

“I’ll let you believe what you want, Eddy. But Van der Poel, he has something more. When he attacks, it’s like a blade piercing through the race. His Milan-San Remo last year… magnificent.”

Hinault (with a sneer):

“Yes, but Van Aert, he’s a true warrior. This guy can do everything: cobbles, sprints, time trials. If I had raced against him, I would have tested him in a good bare-knuckle fight.”

Miguel Indurain (shaking his head):

“Always you and your fights, Bernard. But in the end, we can agree on one thing: these youngsters certainly put on a show. Even Alaphilippe, with his kamikaze attacks, he’s there to thrill the crowds. And what if, ultimately, these riders of this generation were more exciting and spectacular than we were in our era?”

Fausto Coppi (pensive):

“Perhaps, but they all race with their heads buried in numbers. Power meters, watts, calibrated training. Where has the instinct gone? We, we looked at the mountain, and we knew if we could tame it.”

Hinault (laughing):

“You, you mostly knew if you could tame the bottle of wine before attacking.”

(Everyone bursts out laughing, except Coppi, who raises his glass with a mischievous smile.)

The moral of the evening

Eddy Merckx (raising his glass for a toast):

“To these youngsters, who make us dream, even if they will never be at our level. And to us, the giants. Because deep down, it’s quite simple: we are the benchmarks. They race to one day be compared to us.”

Anquetil (adding mischievously) :

“But that, they will never admit.”

All together:

“To the legends, and to those who try to catch up with them!”

The fire continues to crackle, the bottle of Barolo empties, and the champions’ laughter echoes in the chalet. An evening among giants, where humility was not invited… but passion, it remains intact.

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