Friday, 23 January 2009

Cadel Evans, my part in his success.

It's 1988, I'm in Katherine, a small town in Australia's Northern Territory, I'd gone there to paddle a boat down the Katherine gorge. I spent a few days there, bobbing down the gorge, watching the world go by, each night I'd spend in the local pizza place, eating pizza and getting wasted on the local brews. Now this happen to coincide with the Tour stage win by a certain Sean Yates and each night would see me holding forth with a great passion about the wonders of cycling and how the locals should embrace their true sporting heroes. Forget Alan Border and Wally Lewis, no Phil Anderson, Alan Piper, Hubert Opperman, Danny Clark and Dunc Gray where the men their kids should look up to. I like to think that my polemic encouraged a certain Cadel Evans to take up the sport seriously and whilst I have no proof of this I think it's far too much of a coincidence to ignore.


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