By Sophie
«Hi Giovanni, I was thinking of the title of my thesis: The Rosti meaning of this Giro».
But I also like: Rosti's sense of the Giro. More chic, maybe even more precise.
My research/analysis focuses on the 5 winning Rosti senses and the 7 legendary Rosti moments in light of the 3 macro-messages that this Giro has spread worldwide.
The first chapter will begin like this: «Rosti's winning sense for the Giro is in the snapshot of Masnada conquering the Cima Coppi and with the composure of an ancient knight zipping up his vest before launching himself like a cannon down the descent».
The last chapter will begin like this: "From the challenge between man and robot, a new figure emerges, which optimizes both configurations. The key word to define this new configuration was before our eyes from the beginning of the Giro: Hybrid, the auto-motive of the Giro, Toyota Hybrid. Suzuki, sponsor of the Cycling Federation, also reiterates it, in love and agreement with Toyota: Think Hybrid. The future is in the hybrid".
My professor is very excited.
Mischievously, he advises me to send this report not to you, but to the multinationals, because the Rosti brand, in his opinion, has potential that only a large group could exploit. In my opinion, however, he is simply jealous, or envious. You racing men always have these problems like a cockerel in the henhouse.
By the way, I dumped the dilf. He was getting a big head. And listen to what the “pathetic” (but I was thinking of renaming him “follower in love”) sends me:
I always felt that there was someone besides me in her life.
Another man? A woman? A love that never ended? Never started? A ghost?
What is it that upsets her so profoundly, with periodic punctuality? I wondered: what leads her from one day to the next to change thoughts, words, looks, choices and intentions so profoundly, in such a disconcerting way that it makes me think several times: who are you, who are you really, the one from last night, or the one from tonight?
Tuesday, stage sixteen
Love makes its Giro, and the decisive week begins with the new challenger Carapaz who, after having carefully studied the slogan of the Giro (“infinite love”), shows up at the start saying ultra-pop things from another era like: «I send a message of love to my people».
All of Ecuador is with him. As a child, Carapaz had to look after goats. He started pedaling with a bike he found in a landfill. Today he is a champion, and the dreams of kids from all the world's suburbs are projected into him.
"The Giro begins today," Nibali replies, with the mantra phrase of this Giro. Which actually makes sense: every day can be a new beginning, a new challenge.
And Roglic? The robot had to grit his teeth like a human, between punctures, falls and other strokes of bad luck. Yet Nibali says: «Roglic races like a calculator».
That is: we are made of a different stuff, we do not win by making calculations, but by throwing our heart over the obstacle. From this moment, the antagonism is no longer Nibali/human vs Roglic/automaton.
The new challenge, the new pair of icons/values is Nibali/champion vs Carapaz/emerging.
Lovere-Ponte di Legno is the highlight of this new challenge. There is no Gavia, but there is the Mortirolo, which already in its name is a program, with zero hairpin bends in 5km and gradients of 18%.
First ramps and in front there are 5 left: Ciccone, Masnada, Caruso, Nieve and Hirt.
Behind Pozzovivo he starts to pull the group to the death to make a selection, and the group falls apart. When only a few close friends remain, the Shark takes off, and the Spaniard Ventoso, who is not on his team, passes him a water bottle, and revives one of the mythical icons of the Giro, the Coppi/Bartali water bottle. Roglic begins to lose ground.
From the TV booth, it's Bettiol's turn to say the mantra: "The Giro begins now."
Hirt, Ciccone and Caruso remain in front. From one hairpin bend to the next everything changes, you enter the clouds and in the undergrowth of very tall fir trees it becomes night, it is dark, it is raining, there is a discharge that is almost hail, the asphalt is slippery. At the pass it is deep night, it is pouring with rain and it is cold. The headlights of the motorcycles give light to the riders.
Ciccone wins the gpm, then throws away the cape that he can't put on, and immediately regrets it, he will freeze on the descent. A spectator passes him a newspaper, he takes it and puts it under his jersey while an Astana employee makes a remarkable sprint to give the cape to Lopez. Bilbao, who can't stand it anymore from the cold, even stops, to put on the cape.
Amateur scenes, which make Garzelli's comment sensible: «Nibali puts on the cape in a very intelligent way». Carapaz instead will wear it only at the end of the descent, and backwards.
The Mortirolo has remixed the dynamics of the couple: the tandem Hirt and Ciccone takes flight, the duo Lopez and Bilbao chases, the duelists Nibali/Carapaz keep each other in check and the exhausted Roglic has no more torque in his engine
Genovesi: «the problem with robots is when they break».
Garzelli: «I would wait to give him up for dead». And in fact Roglic then recovers on the descent.
In Vezza d'Oglio, “the pearl of Valcamonica,” Ciccone finally finds something to wear, a bodice. Her lips are blue, her face frozen, she is trembling, and from the way she looks at Hirt, you can tell their marriage is over. In Ciccone's eyes there is all the contempt of a divorcee toward his ex-spouse. Irritated!
The duel for victory begins between Ciccone and Hirt, both half-frozen.
Fixed cameras, the moment of truth. Ciccone starts like a cannon, doesn't give up, wins and throws his glasses in the air (so it's a mania).
They immediately ask him to explain the fight with the cape.
"The sleeves were too tight, I couldn't put them on with my wet gloves."
Meanwhile Masnada arrives, third, with his beautiful cape Rosti.
But what happened to our Vuillermoz AG2R is incredible: he has an asthma attack at the beginning of the Mortirolo, he slips down a meadow, he is pulled up and helped by the paramedics with bronchodilators. He should wait for the drug to take effect, that is, stop, that is, retreat.
“I’d rather die,” he says and starts again. He has another attack, stops again, starts again and reaches the finish line, and not among the last. Legendary.
On the same theme, the collapse, the possibility of retreat, there is also the testimony of the “pathetic”, decidedly anti-heroic.
Yes, today I will collapse, at some point I will give up, I will withdraw, it is certain, I can not do it. I spent the night in sleep, and already while I was signing the departure sheet today I felt my legs weak, and I thought: you are an idiot, an idiot and a coward.
The sleepless night with the smartphone in hand, an idiot, a suffering, a shameful sadness, at my age, a via crucis chasing the red hearts that you put on absolute idiots, on vulgar, banal photos, on idiotic phrases, you who are always so dramatic, superior, golden with me, and you have never put a red heart on me. Can you, I wonder, be such an idiot, and get screwed by an algorithm, because it is the algorithm's fault, it is the algorithm that tells me with absolute malice "people you might know", and with its little icon underneath, and the words "friends in common", and then you go and see, you see these daily little hearts, and a rusty knife wallows in your liver, and you spend the night like this.
The stage begins and I continue to think about her and her friends, and almost two hours pass before I realize that I'm actually doing very well, I'm pedaling without any effort. But it's also true that the collapse can come suddenly.
Wednesday, stage seventeen
Val di sole - Anterselva, 181 km. The breakaway starts at the Mendola pass.
At 100km, a group of 18 breakaways with a 6 minute advantage, including the Rostis in red Masnada and Vendrame and the young Peters in blue/ciel and brun/terre AG2R. Of the escapees, the only man in the classification is Formolo, 12th at 12 minutes. Jungels is also there looking for redemption.
Commentator: «I don’t remember a Giro like this one, where the breakaway often succeeds».
Garzelli: «Maybe they should worry about Formolo».
At 70 km in Bressanone they have 7min, Bakelants tries alone, gains 1min.
Bakelants two years ago at the Giro went off a downhill curve, flew into the abyss and broke 7 ribs. He underwent 5 surgeries, spent 7 months in bed, and today he is back in the limelight.
At 50 km the group changes pace. Garzelli: «too late».
The 18 break up, regroup Bakelants and regroup compactly.At 15km on an uphill stretch our Peters AG2R shoots off like a gunshot.
Garzelli: «He looked his breakaway companions in the face, he saw great tiredness, he chose the moment. He has great power, and a rounded pedal stroke».
Final 10km uphill, the pursuers argue among themselves, Peters goes straight on.
At 3km Conti is unable to make it, Masnada is gradually recovering, Chaves is accelerating, now everyone is scattered, even Formolo is recovering, but Peters is increasingly convinced.
Last km of the cross-country skiing course, then Peters shows up in the biathlon stadium with his tongue hanging out and pure joy in his eyes, his arms raised to the sky, it's his first victory as a professional.
Speaking to the microphones, he said: «I looked around and I said to myself, with an effort I can do it».
In this seemingly banal phrase by Peters, according to my professor, there is a motivational message with very high potential.
At this point Giovanni I have to open a parenthesis for you, and summarize the analysis/study on the messages of the Giro. The first week the message was: in love, the one who knows how to do the calculations wins.
The second week: in love, he who bites and runs away wins.
The third week, the verdict: "The winner is the one who flies the highest, is the hungriest and is the most predatory."
Moral: love makes its Giro, and in the challenge between the electro Robot and the thermal Nibali a new engine prevails, the hybrid Carapaz, as we said, a bit condor and a bit locomotive.
«But this Giro also has another message, perhaps more important».
None of the big names wrote a memorable page. They played for the final victory in control mode. The heroic feats were accomplished by unknown gregarious and little-known youngsters.
Here is the message, the news: the mythical pages of this Giro are not signed by supermen, but by supporting actors like Benedetti, Cataldo, Cima, or by young people like Ciccone, Masnada and Peters, or by reborn riders like Chaves and Chad Haga. And each of these brings to the fore his own pure mythology, his own authentic, human story. Believe in it, try. And make it. The hopeless escapes to death, this Giro, have often had happy endings.
«Rosti comes out on top in all these messages».
Thursday, stage eighteen
Flat stage for sprinters, Conti does not start, retires due to cyclist's nodule.
After 50 km, Maestri, Cima and our Denz in the Rosti jersey break away.
They ride in harmony throughout the stage. At 20km they still have 2.30 minutes, while the peloton flies at 60km/h to go and catch them. At 10km the gap is reduced to 1min.
In the group Demare and Ackermann are preparing for the final challenge for the cyclamen jersey.
But the three unexpectedly do not give up. And our Denz seems the most charged.
At 5km the group “sees” the escapees, who still have 45 seconds.
Time to gamble. At 3km our heroes slow down, they study each other, but they could be caught. Last km, and only 15sec on the group that starts like a cannon. They can't wait any longer. Denz starts first, then Maestri, and finally Cima, while behind them the group is about to swallow them like a tsunami.
And while his two breakaway companions are swallowed up by the group, Cima miraculously and spectacularly manages to cross the finish line half a metre before being devoured by the fast-moving Ackermann and all the supermen in the sprint.
Maestri: «Regret, adding insult to injury. Rather than let the group get us, I'll finish third, I thought, and I set off: but I didn't even do that».
Cima: «The lifelong dream of any boy who starts riding a bike».
Cassani: «Cima like Masnada spent 6 years in the elite before turning professional».
And this is also a message.
But the most beautiful message, and it is always a message of the type "never give up, keep believing", I get it on Thursday evening, in the civic hall of Grignano-Brembate, two hundred meters from the Rosti knitwear factory, where 5 archaeologists have called the citizens to reveal the results of the mysterious excavation they have been working on for 5 years.
And what they are communicating to the town of Brembate, and to the entire scientific community, is a discovery of great importance, that no one expected. Digging in this field adjacent to via delle Industrie, between the Rosti knitwear factory and Bayer, they found the remains of a Lombard village from the 7th century AD with warrior tombs. Nothing new.
Continuing to dig, under the Lombard village they found the Roman village of the 1st century BC with paved streets and brick buildings. Interesting, but nothing new.
They continued digging, and under the Roman village they found a Celtic village from the 15th century BC, with huts, roads, tombs and grinding stones, signs of artisanal activity.
This is a truly unique discovery, which makes the great archaeologist say: «I have been looking for it for 50 years, I knew it was somewhere, and now we have found it».
This Celtic village of Brembate “will change the prehistory of Lombardy”, and please don’t laugh Giovanni, you should have seen the passion and determination of this grandmother-luminary.
15th century BC means that 3500 years ago, where Rosti production is today, there were already Homo Rostiens with their shed and their production.
3500 years means pyramids of Egypt, Trojan War, gardens of Babylon. Yes, we can talk about a long-standing manufacturing tradition, rooted in the territory!
"How will you celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Rosti knitwear factory now?"
Friday, stage nineteen
Treviso-San Martino di Castrozza, after a few km 12 riders break away, with our Vendrame and Bidard. They get to have an advantage of almost 10 minutes. Boaro tries to fly alone, then Canola. At 10 km they still have 8 minutes on the pink jersey group.
8km ahead are Vendrame, Chaves, Bidard and Serry.
At 7km the hummingbird Chaves starts, but Bidard and Vendrame stop him.
At 6km Chaves starts again and they catch him. At 5km same scene, at 4km ditto.
Vendrame has more power, you can see it, you can feel it, he goes up like a God, and then the Gods have fun hindering him, they make him drop the chain at the climax, and he has to get off the bike like a common mortal and get his hands dirty. He starts again like a fury to do the impossible, and once again the Gods make him jump the chain.
And so Chaves at the 7th attempt manages to detach the pursuers, and arrives alone at the finish line where his mother and father are waiting for him in tears. At 10 seconds the heroic Vendrame who then collapses lying on the asphalt.
Chaves: «You have to believe, work, never give up, but not only in cycling, but in life, you always have to push, push, push».
This also seems to me to be a rather Rosti message.
"Okay, Giovanni, sometimes I feel like I have you in my mind, I know what you want."
I'll summarize here the 5 winning senses of Rosti of this Giro.
• in a sporting sense: for the two stage victories, with two different teams, plus the Coppi summit and the days in the white jersey;
• in a media sense: for the visibility of the Rosti logo in escapes and enterprises, both Androni and AG2R;
• in a mythological sense: for the 7 legendary Rosti moments, with 3 heroic/Ettore episodes (the heroic Cattaneo, the heroic Vendrame and the heroic Denz) + 3 heroic/Achille episodes (the stage victories of Masnada and Peters and the Coppi summit) + the mythical episode of Villermeuz who, in an asthma attack, asked to stop, says to the doctor: “I'd rather die”;
• in a marketing/advertising sense, because between people with cape problems and runners who win bare-chested, the image of Masnada conquering the Coppi peak and zipping up before launching himself into the descent is a perfect natural advert;
• in a semiotic sense, because both the pink jersey message (the hungry outsider) and the message “courageous gregarious men capable of epic feats” are messages that speak the Rosti language.
There would also be the sixth sense, the Rosti technological sense, because this Giro has established at world tour level the great appreciation for the brand of the different tribes professionally involved in the product: athletes, testers, users, researchers/developers of technical fabrics, designers. And also anthropologists, philosophers, psychologists and ethologists who with different approaches deal with the theme ethos/mythos of the magic cloak, its physical, epidermal, psycho-somatic functions and the psycho-social effect on others.
There is a passage from “Patetico” that can help explain the psycho-tech importance of clothing and accessories:
The stage begins, I start pedaling, with all 10 of my protections.
Protection 1 (P1) is the group, pedaling in a group, with my team's jersey (P2 and P3), and in the back pockets the raincoat (P4) and energy bars (P5).
On the bike (P6) the water bottles (P7) and on my head the helmet (P8) and the earphones (P9) and above all the wraparound sunglasses (P10). With all these protections I can pedal in the middle of the crowd and the mobile, fixed and aerial cameras and be untouchable, and be elsewhere, and above all I can think about blood, lucidly, and die inside, without anyone realizing it. This is also what protections are for, not only the isolation/protection of the body, but of you as a person.
Saturday, stage twenty
The day of destiny for the 4 warriors aiming for victory, then only the time trial and the calculations will remain. Immediately 12 in attack, and Masnada alone towards the Coppi peak.
«Giovanni, I suggest you call it Cima Rosti».
The snapshot of Masnada, tall in the saddle and looking ahead, as he alone conquers the Cima Coppi, the highest peak of the Giro, and zips up his Rosti vest with the confident and virile gesture of an ancient knight who lowers his crest before launching himself down the descent, is priceless.
At 100km they are all together again: Masnada, the 4 magliarosandi and 10 other daring riders in mixed pairs, teams, nationalities, there are the two Basques Bilbao and Nieve,
Nibali eats bars, Carapaz eats a banana.
Garzelli: «Today they will only burn sugars, they have no more fats».
15km to go, they're all still there.
"The Ecuadorian chick is becoming a condor."
"It will be a fight between the Rog-Robot, the Shark-Nib, the Condor-Paz and Superman Lopez."
Then the stage is distorted by two idiots from the crowd: first an idiot who pushes Roglic, then a second idiot makes Lopez fall. Together with the idiot who threw a bike in the middle of the road a few days ago, the podium of idiots is complete.
At 3km the Shark-Nib and the Condor-paz... speak! Last km Landa starts, but Bilbao wins, who was in the breakaway from km1.
Bilbao, have you had a difficult time?: «Yes, the allergy».
For everyone else, the hard times are starting now: maximum time 1h, and many will struggle. For all those gregarious who didn't go beyond the homework, it would be a failure.
Garzelli said: «today the crisis can hit anyone».
Late in the evening comes the testimony of the “pathetic” one.
Passing between the two wings of a hysterical crowd, waving its arms and shouting at you with unheard-of violence, and trying to catch you, while you are dragged forward with unbearable slowness, your hands tied, towards the guillotine... this is my nightmare, my last stop, the scene of a film I saw as a child, a costume film, my Terror, the fear of not making it, and letting myself fall to the ground in the midst of this horrible mass of possessed strangers...
Sunday, stage twenty-one.
Yes, vigesima means twentieth in archaic Italian, it is the last stage, the time trial-Verona.
As expected almost nothing happens, all key messages confirmed.
The epic story of the day is the face of Chad Haga, who wins the time trial, and returns to smiling and crying with joy after an endless ordeal (he was cycling in training when he was hit, run over, disfigured, almost killed by a grandmother at the wheel).
The sad story of the “pathetic” has an ending I didn't expect:
I don't recognize you, you seem like an automaton. What did you do today? Who did you meet?
I tortured myself for months thinking I had someone else.
Then I discovered that you have been in analysis for ten years. And I realized that I was acting against my will in a film directed not by you, not by me, not by God, not by chance, but by a paid stranger, your psychoanalyst.
This movie will never end. I am now part of the problems that keep you loyal to him as a patient indefinitely. You care little about our story in itself, you are more interested in understanding to what extent it fits into your clinical history.
There is a word that strikes me in this report of the “pathetic”, when it says: you seem like an automaton to me. The automaton, we have seen, moves by itself, but under the control of its creator, who has the power to turn it off, turn it on, reset it. The real difference between the human and the automaton is in self-consciousness, from which the will is born. And then a question arises in me.
"Is the person in analysis an automaton controlled by the analyst?"
My professor's answer: no, the person in analysis is not an automaton, he is a hybrid, a human body with artificial emotional intelligence, reconstructed, programmed, managed by an external technician. The psychoanalyst is a programmer who assembles and reconstructs human beings that have fallen to pieces like automatons. The result is a controllable self-propelled vehicle, which acts and thinks according to its analyst, according to the appointment with him, following the established work program, like an automaton-worker who works in automated factories. And what would be the work that this human/automaton should carry out following the instructions of its creator/analyst?
Answer: "To live."
"Not to love?"
"No, love is not for everyone."
The promise of infinite love, yes, that is for everyone, but the pink jersey is only for one, because that is how love makes its Giro. Sometimes it touches you, stops, but then it escapes you.
I haven't seen her or heard from her in 20 days. But that's not the worst. The worst is that once the Giro is over I'll see her. We'll make love, and it will be beautiful. And the day after I see her, the day after we make love, well, that will be the moment I won't live anymore. The day after. Anyone who's ever taken hard drugs can understand me. There's no harder drug than love. They should write that on Baci Perugina, by law.
Warning! Love hurts. Stop loving! Talk to your doctor.