VeloResults

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 6 (0)

Alcazar’s ‘Crying at the discotheque’ may have been the soundtrack to Alex Rasmussen’s huge attack in the closing minutes of the 2009 Six Days of Copenhagen; but the only tears shed some 17 laps later were those of joy as home boy, ‘Razi’ and his Denmark and Saxo Bank ‘other half,’ Michael Mørkøv sent the full house home happy from Ballerup Super Arena.

On the penultimate night it had looked like the best the young Danes could hope for would be second behind the swashbuckling William Tell duo of Franco Marvulli and Bruno Risi.

But as the first tread band broke the finish line timing beam on the stroke of midnight on Tuesday, the classy Swiss had to settle for third, denied their hat trick at Copenhagen by the young men in the legendary number seven, ‘Danish flag’ jersey, but also behind the Netherlands duo of Peter Schep and Danny Stam.

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 5 (1)

Susie, my chow chow would love these meat balls; cold, greasy, smelly with around one percent meat content; it’s a pity she’s not here – but think how awful it would be if she bit Danny Stam.

Dinner time at the restaurant; day one the food was cool, but as the week goes on, the menu refuses to budge and the temperature of the food drops; ‘not good for riders to eat cold pasta,’ says Ronnie our number two soigneur.

Ronnie saves the day; he’s been ‘making massage’ to the guy who owns the restaurant and a gorgeous pizza arrives for him, of which I get half – those Belgian guys aren’t all bad.

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 4 (0)

“I was second in the derny, behind Muller, and he’s very good – why don’t you test me?” says Michael Berling to the UCI guy who has to chaperone Michael Morkov to the doping controle.

Franco pipes up; “Grasmann was last in the derny, that’s a suspicious result!”

The UCI guy has heard it all before; “I just chaperone the rider, who gets tested is nothing to do with me.”

We leave Michael to his fate and head for the restaurant; it’s nearly 02.00 am Sunday when we eat and close to 03.00 am when I get to bed.

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 3 (0)

VeloResults are in Copenhagen (south of Sweden) for day three of the six and it’s time for the horror that is – the afternoon session.

The highlight of the afternoon was the break dancing competition, manfully judged by Messrs. Rasmussen and Donadio. It’s not well known, but break dancing has a long connection with cycling.

Some years ago, Viktor, Dave and I were at the Belgian elite road championships when we met the old QuickStep soigneur, waiting to feed his boys. We got to chatting and he explained to us that Frank Vandenbroucke was a renowned man around the boogie box in West Flanders.

Straight faced, I asked the old boy if Johan Museeuw was into it too, we thought he was going to drop with a seizure; ‘Nae, nae, nae!’ as if the very thought was sacrilege.

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 2 (0)

“Oh Copenhagen, Copenhagen south of Swee-den,
sweeter than the sweetest honey,sweeter than the sweetest wine,
in Copenhagen city too, you can make a dream come true!”

Deeply profound Europop lyrics that start each day’s session in just the right thought provoking vein – well, maybe you have to be here!

It’s a small world; Thursday night at dinner we were sitting beside the Argentinean rider, Sebastian Donadio, who’s a cool guy; he asked me where I was from, I told him; “Ahh! You must know Peter Jacques!”…

Copenhagen Six Day – Day 1 (0)

The crowd counts us down; the pistol cracks; I give Franco a hefty shove; ‘Cara Mia’ blasts from the PA and the 2009 Copenhagen 6 Dages Lob is well and truly under way.

Two minutes ago I was wondering why I put myself through that nightmare journey from Portobello to Ballerup – the suburb of Copenhagen where the Super Arena and it’s pine velodrome live – two buses, a plane, another bus, a long train journey then waiting in the freezing cold of a Copenhagen night for my lift to the track.

But now I remember; the smell of the massage oil and cologne, the gleaming gems that are the bikes, the Europop, the hiss of the mechanics’ compressors, the thunder of expensive rubber on pine, the rattle of those one-eighth chains over the sprockets, a whiff of perfume as a glamorous spectator sashays past…