By Leone Belotti
Stage 16: Trento-Rovereto, 34.5 km (individual time trial)
«I never liked things with a stopwatch in hand.»
“Not us either, Mery,” Gino reassures her.
We are at the much feared time trial. From Trento to Rovereto it is only 34 km, a distance that even I could cover.
In my ignorance (or as Mery says: "your virginity") I cannot understand how these mini-stages can be decisive for the classification, with gaps of minutes,
which on the same route in the race would never exist. Berlinguer tries to explain to me: "in the time trial you are alone against the clock, you have no opponents to chase or to distance."
"It's not true, don't listen to him" says Gino "you have an opponent: yourself. That is, the worst opponent that can exist, for someone."
Marelli, more simply: "Have you ever seen a ski race?"
Meanwhile, Aru temporarily takes first place, which is taken away from him by Martin. Shortly after, Dennis takes to the road, followed by Froome, Pozzovivo and the superman of the time trial Tom Dumoulin.
And after him the pink jersey Yates. The old men begin to warm up, while the race is all about comparing split times. Dennis arrives and with exactly 40 minutes he takes first place,
waiting for the others.
I get it, it's a long-distance challenge.
"But why that alien helmet? And those handlebars, and those solid wheels in the back?"
Complicated explanations about the aerodynamics of the solo sprinter follow, while Froome and Pozzovivo arrive, unable to do better than Dennis and Martin.
The two challengers, Dumoulin and Yates, remain on the road. Dumoulin arrives and places third with 40 and 22 seconds.
“He can do it,” Gino says, looking at Yates, the last man on the street.
She will continue to be in pink, they explain to me, if she manages to contain the delay. Last kilometer, pavé, final straight: Yates stops the clock at 41 and 37,
and thus maintains the pink jersey with 56 seconds on Dumoulin. Pozzovivo remains third, Froome climbs up to fourth.
Berlinguer: «There was no earthquake.»
Gino: «Dumoulin didn't do a super phenomenon, and Yates did better than expected.»
All right, but I'm still perplexed: "But let me understand: what sense does it make that a big group race of 20 stages up and down the mountains
is then decided by 2 short individual races on the flat? Why don't they eliminate them?"
“So you don’t want to understand!” Gino snorts. He looks at me with his big, greedy face. With his super cool Rosti cycling gloves he grabs the wheels of the wheelchair
and paces back and forth nervously.
Then he says: "Whatever you see in cycling, whether it makes sense or not, you have to take it as a life lesson."
Ok, fine. Better not make him angry, I was advised. The pressure.
"I don't like it either," Mery intervenes with her sexy, hoarse smoker's voice, "but Gino is right. For example, you, for your beauty, I bet you've climbed mountains and seas, right?
Then a sprinter passed by and in an instant he took her away from you."
Boom. This isn't cycling, this is boxing.
“Thank you Mery, now I understand perfectly.”