Issue 104 / October 2019

PREVIEWS
CONVERSATION
BRADLEY WIGGINS
M&S Bank Arena – 03/10
Britain’s most decorated Olympian opens up about
the roots of his cycling obsession and how it has
helped him find new roads in the sport.
In a summer of rare national unity, it was British cycling
that reached the highest summit of all at the home
Olympics of 2012. There was one photo in particular
which encapsulated the moment cycling never had it so
good. There was BRADLEY WIGGINS, clad in Team GB Lycra,
sat cross-legged on a baroque throne in the centre of London,
shortly after finishing a race.
An undisturbed mod haircut had been released from his
helmet. More sideburn than perspiration is streaming down
his face. With forearms casually raised, apparel unzipped to
the sternum, he satisfyingly provides a two-fingered salute of
victory. It was every inch a statement of his own ability and the
cultural currency cycling was ready to cash in on.
The former Kilburn council estate Olympian had just taken
gold in the men’s road time trial – his fourth gold since 2004.
A week earlier he’d been the first Brit to wear the maillot jaune
as the Tour de France crossed the finish line on the Champs
Elysées. Irrespective of covering a distance of 44km in 50
minutes and 39 seconds on his way to glory that day in London,
Wiggins carried the composure of someone who’d drifted in from
a Brighton seafront parade, proceeding to dominate the course
on a Vespa wearing a freshly pressed Ben Sherman suit.
Cycling had reached a new paramount point of visibility
thanks to Wiggins. No longer was it to be a niche indulgence or
reluctant spectacle for channel hoppers discovering Eurosport
in the early hours. Wiggins was cool. Cycling was cool. Lycra
was sort of cool. (At least it is now unashamedly adorned on
inner city commutes.) A new, self-propelled mod had supplanted
Quadrophenia. It’s a journey and endeavour Wiggins is now
opening up about, from the perspective of the fan rather than
the athlete. Much of which is detailed in his book, Icons, and
adjoining speaking tour, something that he owes to a platform
built from what he did in the sport, which, he suggests, grants an
appeal to “an audience that maybe won’t always be into cycling”.
In a summer of national disunity, however, British cycling
and Wiggins are in separate worlds. The sideburns are now
gone, the mod haircut trimmed. On stage appearances with Paul
Weller are now few and far between. All these moments remain
in a time capsule of 2012. Wiggins paved the way for two more
British winners of the Tour de France (five wins between them
since 2013), but that summer was to carry him into the ease of
descent. There was no higher to
climb in the sport, only blockages in
the road. The 2016 parliamentary
inquiry into whether he and
Team Sky breached anti-doping
regulations arrived at the end of his
involvement in the sport. He and
Sky still deny wrongdoing. However,
there’s now a sepia bleed on those
images from 2012; a nostalgia
delivered earlier than expected. If
anything, it’s brought distance and,
in time, reopened the door to a
spectator’s intrigue. It’s a place that’s
reignited his interest and love for the
sport, without having to squeeze
into Lycra or suffer the ascent of the Col du Tourmalet.
“A lot of sportspeople don’t always know about the culture
surrounding the sport that they do, or its history. For me, that
was my first passion,” he notes, touching on how cycling started
as cultural obsession from within his bedroom (where he’d
hang on the words of Cycling Weekly, surrounded by posters of
previous Tour winners), rather than a quest for Olympic glory.
“Even if I hadn’t done what I’d done in the sport, I’d still have
that knowledge of the Tours, that passion for cycling and its
characters.”
Icons follows a more refined take on the aura of cycling;
the personalities behind the time gaps, the fashion beyond the
polka dot jerseys; essentially, the essence of the sport that isn’t
so overtly attached to the bike frame. It’s an account that would
discourteously be bound up in hipster nerdiness, if placed in
parallel to cycling iconography in hip London cafés. But it’s one
that focuses on the sport as more than a sport. In the same way
“A lot of sportspeople
don’t always know
about the culture or
history surrounding
their sport. That was
my first passion”
Sócrates was so much more than a towering midfielder draped
in the iconic yellow, blue and white of Brazil.
“I’ve been fascinated how all these old jerseys became
iconic and brands like Rapha have built the image from this sort
of heritage influence,” he starts, alluding to how a schoolboy
bookishness towards cycling ingrained his connection to the
encompassing culture. Icons serves as the shop window in
which Wiggins peered into the sport, detailing his relationship
with savoured memorabilia from a former era of cycling; a time
frame that carries a similarly golden shimmer as that very image
of him sat on the Olympic throne in 2012. “The [classic era] is
coming back into popularity,” he tells me over the phone from
somewhere in the middle of the Balearic sea. “I live in the North,
not far from Liverpool. Transalpino on Bold Street fully captures
the cultural moment of fashion and football.” The shop displays
how sport can emit a magnetic force that weaves together
football, footwear, fashion, music and exploration into a cohesive
movement, or, for many, a day-to-day obsession. “Cycling is the
same for me, really. I’ve always been massively into the culture
that surrounds the sport, the aesthetics, everything down to the
Adidas tracksuits that Eddy Merckx used to wear.”
It can, however, be difficult to unearth the riches of cycling’s
cultural pedigree. It is arguably one that is more at home on the
European continent. So much of contemporary British cycling
can be bound up as mid-life, expendable income pastime. Its
roots are not visibly wedded to culture and social enterprise,
as football is (or at least was). They exist, but perhaps as a
French, Italian, Dutch or Belgian export, rather than a culture
that propagates in the heart of the UK. Through spirited intruige,
Wiggins was able to self-teach the rich layers of style the sport
produces, the fantasy of cycling escapism, and the bravery it
would entail to reign as King of the Mountains. Yet, even when
Wiggins was taking gold in 2012, it was his association to mod
culture that caught the most limelight – not the journey from
cycling across central London to leading the peloton over the
Pyrenees.
Cycling may have reached new heights, but it’s still out
of reach as an all-inclusive interest. The nation is still decades
behind our European counterparts for cycling accessibility and
proficiency and, even with a former council estate Olympic
champion, cycling has remained an escape predominantly
restricted to the middle classes. “It’s still quite an elitist
environment. It comes with a certain kind of snobbery,” Wiggins
admits, when asked if his account is aiming to bridge cycling
to people from every social background. “I still don’t think it’s
massively appealing to the working classes. Ultimately, you still
need to have money to be a part of the elite side of it. It becomes
a competition of who’s got the latest £300 jersey. I don’t think
it’s very grounded or very inclusive. I think it’s quite an exclusive
world, based on finance and who can afford it. It’s become the
new golf.”
The characteristics of elite cycling may prove limiting
compared to other socially integrating sports. Yet, a £1,000
bike and matching apparel isn’t required to unlock its benefits.
“It was definitely a way of escaping where I grew up; the sense
of freedom that it gave me. I could go out on the bike, and in
five or six miles I could be in a different area. It still does that
for me. That was always the attraction and beauty of cycling.”
The escapist sentiment of the riders he adored was eventually
delivered through a pairing of
music and bike – a similar cultural
symbiosis to that of football, Adidas
trainers and post-punk. Ultimately, it
was the arrival of northern Britpop
that set the wheels rolling with
intent. “Listening to someone like
Liam Gallagher,” Wiggins begins,
“he was someone you could look
up to. It was like having someone
similar to yourself singing your
anthem. ‘I live my life in the city,
there’s no easy way out’. I took that
into my sport, all without having
to be physically strong, or carry a
knife.”
Wiggins’ own observations clearly underline that more
needs to be done to bridge cycling to the wider audience it
deserves. But five Olympic gold medals and a Tour de France
victory can only paint the picture for others. The escapist
sentimentality of cycling has to be experienced to be realised. If
his experiences tell you anything, two working wheels, the right
soundtrack and confidence is all that is needed to find your feet. !
Words: Elliot Ryder / @elliot_ryder
Bradley Wiggins: An Evening With takes place at The
Auditorium at M&S Bank Arena on Thursday 3rd October.
Bido Lito! CC in partnership with Ryde is a bi-weekly bike ride
open to all ages and abilities. The next meet is starts at Ryde in
the Baltic Triangle on Wednesday 2nd October, 6.30pm.
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