Bicycle Race

There are many things to thank Boris Johnson for – his use of the words ‘whiff whaff’ in a public speech, his trouncing of Ken Livingstone (twice), his inability to go down a zip wire without getting stuck half way (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-19081335) – but perhaps his greatest legacy will prove to be nothing other than the simple two-wheeled machine that, centuries after its invention, simply refuses to go away: the bicycle.

OK, so there may have been other men in history who have contributed more to the cause of the ‘cycle (the inventor, for starters) but Boris’ love of the pedals and his pay-as-you-ride London bike scheme has coincided with one of Britain’s greatest ever sporting achievements. As Boris has said, we are good at sports where we are sitting down (at the time of writing this, golds have come in cycling, rowing & canoeing) and we have surely missed a trick here by not introducing more sports for these games where standing is simply not allowed. How much better the basketball, volleyball and handball would have gone if only we could be lying back on the sofa, smacking the ball away with a more-rested limb, rather than being forced to leap to our feet and run around a court. Set up a few chairs, perhaps even with wheels on, and we’ll take the world on from there…

If the last few days has taught us anything, it’s that cycling can be well and truly…cool. A bit of a trite term to use, I know, but it really does fit because there is something so immensely cool about the way in which Hoy, Wiggins, et al glide through the air with power and grace, the wheels looking as though any moment now they’ll be flung into the crowd so intense is the pressure they are under, whilst all the time the rider remains a static presence of calm and unwavering focus. Oh, and all at 45mph (ish).

I bring this up because cyclists do not usually warrant such admiration from the general public and the word ‘cool’ would most likely be prefixed with ‘un’ when we think of ankle clips, fluorescent jackets, socks rolled up over trousers, bells, baskets and the decidedly non-Olympic posture of sitting straight up so that one’s eyes can survey the scene and one’s back can be protected from afternoon ache. Think too of the honking of horns as a cyclist nonchalantly swerves around the corner, skips a red light or passes by on the inside, smashing side-mirrors to the ground. Think of the sweat, the grease, the oil, the lycra. Think, my friends, of David Cameron, Boris Johnson, et al gliding not through the air but down the grey streets of London, doffing their caps to passers by offering muted recognition of their attempts to promote a greener world for us all.

Or, if you saw what I saw some years back – and the chances are slim, unless you happen to be me as well – then think of the man who held a bowl of noodles in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other while navigating a roundabout without the slightest concern for the safety of anyone or anything other than his freshly-microwaved noodles.

Come to think of it, that should probably be the next challenge for our cyclists. I mean, if Wiggins can win gold by 42 seconds and Hoy & co can break the world record twice in consecutive races, surely the next step is for them to do it all whilst eating noodles? Repeating these achievements in Rio would be OK – perhaps even more than OK – but doing it all while eating noodles? Well, knighthoods, double-knighthoods and triple-knighthoods would need to be rolled out for that one.

And I’ll tell you something: that would undoubtedly be well and truly cool.