Extraordinary, almost as if he were extraterrestrial compared to other mere mortals, Chris Froome has crumbled opponents and the Tour itself tamed Mont Ventoux, one of the symbolic places of man's infinite challenge to nature on the pedals. Up there, at the 1912 meters of the summit, it is rare that any runner has won, however it is not uncommon for this bald mountain, an incandescent stony ground in July, to have made illustrious victims: Simpson even died there. Merckx climbed it as a winner but the cannibal had never been seen so upset, in oxygen debt immediately after crossing the finish line. Another good name from the past, the Swiss Kubler, with Koblet one of the two famous "Kappa" of post-war Swiss cycling, went into crisis on his endless ramps, a frightening crush that made him decide to give up racing. Today it's not surprising that he won Froome, it's amazing how he did it, with an ease and lightness unknown on the Ventoux ramps accustomed to faces distorted by sweat and fatigue. With incredible acceleration, his eyes fixed on the on-board computer on the handlebar which records every data of his performances, the Englishman, born in Kenya and raised in South Africa before becoming a citizen of Her British Majesty, crushed the resistance and the last hopes of Contador. Then, swinging his legs as only he knows how, he grabbed Quintana when the arrival could already be seen. He almost hoped that the Colombian climber would keep pace with him, then he flew off to glory, right in front of the marble stele commemorating Simpson's tragedy. For Quintana, exhausted, with blood coming out of his nose, a prestigious second place 29” behind the yellow jersey. Contador, drained of strength, lost 1'40”, arriving together with his teammate Kreuziger. In the last stretch the Iberian champion was also overtaken by the pairing of Mikel Nieve and Joaquin Rodriguez. For the French, fasting continues even on the day of the national holiday. The first transalpine was Peraud who finished ninth. Pierre Rolland's surrender wearing an increasingly faded polka dot jersey of the best climber is pathetic. The Tour, which rests today, bows to its absolute master after deluding itself that Contador's blitz in the wind in the Saint-Amand-Montrond stage was the first act of a challenge that would be played on the Alp.
But if bookmakers have now to withdraw the name of the winner of the Grande Boucle from the bets, cycling can rejoice in having found an exciting interpreter, the opposite of what Bradley Wiggins was in the Tour won last year, a yellow jersey conquered in the stages time trial and carried all the way to Paris amidst general yawns, without ever a sharp note that gave the size of the feat to his victory. Froome loves racing at Merckx: winning and putting on a show. Such a clear-cut domain that it ends up generating even malicious suspicions. Someone remembers that only four years ago at the 2009 Giro the Froome who today abuses Contador had been expelled because he was caught on the Mortirolo while being towed by a motorcycle. Yesterday he climbed Ventoux clocking a better time than Armstrong, who is known to have helped himself. Cycling has been too recidivist in terms of doping to be able to banish bad thoughts all of a sudden even on a day when the storm doesn't hit the bike as much as athletics with Gay and Powell caught out of the norm.
The Tour tomorrow, after. the rest starts towards the Alps with a ranking marked by increasingly heavy gaps, typical of the Grande Boucle dominated by a champion. Schleck and Evans have disappeared definitively, having collapsed with abysmal delays on the Ventoux. For the minor places on the podium, Baucke Mollema remains in contention (who among the "humans" defended himself well on the accursed mountain so as to keep second place at 4'14" from Froome), Contador third now at 4'25", Kreuziger fourth at 4'28” and the ever more surprising Laurens Ten Dam, fifth at 4'54”. Quintana, sixth at 5'47”, regained the white jersey of best young rider by snatching it from the Polish Kwiatkowski, who lost his way on the giant from Provence.
