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The Fall of King Eddy
by charles howe, July 2004
It
scarcely seemed possible that the exploits of Jacques Anquetil
could be put in the shade, but just five years after ‘Maître Jacques’ won his fifth Tour de France,
Eddy Merckx started his own Tour career by becoming
the first to win all three classifications, including the GC by 17:54 (still
the largest margin since 1952), 8:30 of it coming during a single stage in the Pyrénées which he won on a solo break of over 130 km. By the time he was through in 1977 at only 32
years of age, Merckx had equaled Anquetil’s
records for Tour wins, and far exceeded him with 34 stage wins and 96 days in
yellow, while adding 5 Giri d’Italia
and 1 Vuelta a España, for
a total of 11 Grand Tours to Anquetil’s 8, as well as
32 one-day classics, 3 world professional road race titles, and the world hour
record, in contrast to Anquetil’s lone classics win
at Liège-Bastogne-Liège and his 1956 hour
record. Like Michael Jordan, Merckx is the sort of rare athlete about whom the case is
closed: he is simply the best ever at what he did. Beyond his unexcelled palmarès,
however, it was his decency, competitive integrity, sense of honor, and
otherwise sterling character which distinguished him as a sportsman of the
highest order. Two gestures are typical:
it was Merckx who represented the peloton
at Tom Simpson’s funeral, two years later doffing his cap in tribute as he
passed the spot on the Ventoux where his mentor and
friend had fallen. And it was Merckx who visited Luis Ocaña at
bedside in hospital after the latter had crashed out of the 1971 edition.
Ocaña’s
ill-luck most likely extended Merckx’s reign, for the
Spaniard had crushed Merckx in the
Three
stages later, Merckx was punched heavily in the back
by a French fan as he neared the stage finish at the summit of the Puy de Dôme, where he conceded
another 0:34 to Thévenet. After turning around and coasting down the
mountain to identify his attacker, Merckx lingered in
the riders’ room for half an hour after the stage was over, clutching his
injured kidney. The timing of the blow
could not have been worse: after a rest day and transfer to Nice came the
race’s most daunting stage, 217.5 km long with climbs of the col St. Martin (Cat. 3, 1560 m), col
de l’Couillole (Cat. 2, 1678 m), col
des Champs (Cat. 1, 2191 m), col d’Allos
(Cat. 1, 2250 m), and the mountaintop finish at Pra-Loup
(Cat. 2, 1630 m). A truly epic showdown
loomed.
Thévenet
initiated the action as he dared to attack Merckx
just before the crest of the Champs, and Merckx
reacted instinctively, countering so hard that he had a 60 meter gap and was
first over the top before Thévenet knew what had
happened. A fearless descender,
Merckx pressed his attack at over 80 kph, screaming in rage as he nearly collided with a group
of journalists who had parked too closely at the road’s edge. Gimondi followed in
furious pursuit; at the same spot as Merckx’s close
call, his team car swerved and hurtled over the precipice. The driver and team manager were thrown clear,
slid for a distance, then latched on to the undergrowth and watched as their
vehicle tumbled end-over-end off the side of the mountain, smashing the bikes
mounted on the roof as it went. A much
more cautious descender, Thévenet
meanwhile had suffered a flat, but kept his nerve and resumed the chase.
Like a desperate gambler, Merckx was going for
broke, betting the whole works on one number.
He led over the Allos, pushing his advantage
to over a minute, which is where it stood exactly with just 6 km to go. Some claim that what happened next was due to
the medication he had taken for the blow to his kidneys, but all signs point to
a classic bonk, or hunger knock, as Merckx came
completely undone: his pedal stroke became labored and lost its rhythm, his
hands clenched the handlebars in a death grip, his eyes filled with anguish,
confusion, and panic. First Gimondi caught him, with 3 km to go, offered a wheel but
got no response, then came Thévenet, who noticed that
Merckx seemed unaware he was on the side of the road
where the tar had melted in the heat of the day, and was riding tire-deep in
it. Thévenet,
close to his own limit as well, pressed on, caught Gimondi,
sat on for a while, then escaped for a solo win which put him in the lead by
0:58 and ended Merckx’s time in the yellow jersey at
a record 96 days. The gaps were 0:23 on Gimondi,
But two
mountain stages remained, and Merckx wasn’t really
conceding anything. He attacked on the col de Vars the next day, but Thévenet, emulating Coppi and Bobet, soloed away on the Izoard
as the Bastille Day crowd went fou all around him, gaining another 2:22. Merckx, who trailed in second within a group containing the
other top five GC riders. Then, during the rolling, neutralized start to
the final alpine stage the next day, Merckx touched
wheels with Olé Ritter and pitched face first into
the pavement. Stunned by the fall, he
had a broken cheekbone and torn sinus, and was advised to abandon. He refused, prompting the attending doctor to
disavow responsibility, and was actually able take back two seconds on Thévenet, coming
in third on the day. Five stages
remained, but Merckx, his jaw wired shut and able to
take only liquids, still refused to
give up, and actually gained 15 seconds on Thévenet
in a mountain time trial the following day. A crash on the penultimate staged delayed Thévenet by 16 seconds, reducing his final margin to just