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sandranian · Site Admin

This is a great article about the retirement of my personal favorite: Laurent Fignon.

**************
Fignon: French Cycling's Angry Young Man Coasts to the End of His Bumpy Road

By Samuel Abt International Herald Tribune

Wednesday, September 29, 1993

That meteor, that lightning bolt Laurent Fignon has blazed out. Riding in a minor French race late in August, Fignon coasted to the side of the road halfway through and got off his bicycle for the last time as a professional. The authority for that is Fignon himself, and he can be believed.
.
Blazed out or burned out, how to decide? What can be said is that after a dozen years of majestic heights - two victories in the Tour de France, one in the Giro d'Italia, two in Milan-San Remo, one in the French national championship and profound depths - a heel injury that cost him peak seasons, last-stage losses of both the Tour and the Giro, two positive drug findings - at age 33 Fignon has retired as a racer.
.
He went out his own way, announcing beforehand that since he had no interest in competing in the world championships, the unsung Grand Prix Ouest-France would be his farewell. He would have already slipped into retirement, he said, but he owed it to the fans to be there.
.
The statement was pure Fignon: An arrogance that was almost touching in its naïveté. Or, if you wish, a naïveté that was almost dumbfounding in its arrogance.
.
By the time he retired, nobody came to see just him. The rider ranked 201st in the world considered himself a fan attraction? The rider whose sole victory this year was recorded in the tune-up Ruta Mexico in February? A two-page photograph in Vélo magazine, the bible of bicycle racing in France, inadvertently said it all. There in the foreground was Fignon, the familiar blond ponytail, the familiar granny glasses, the familiar strained look, and there in the background were five fans - all looking down the road away from Fignon.
.
Besides the photograph and a brief text block, Vélo had little else to say about his retirement. Not so long ago, a rider who recorded 76 victories in his career, including nine stage victories in the Tour de France, would have been given a proper send-off, with a long article, perhaps even a cover photograph and half a page of tributes. Now Vélo and French fans have mountain biking on their mind and the magazine gave the sport its cover and 20 of its 70 pages in the issue with Fignon's retirement.
.
Time has moved quickly since 1982, when Fignon emerged from an obscure amateur career and startlingly won the Critérium International in one of his first races as a professional with the juggernaut Renault team. Bernard Hinault was the Renault leader (Greg LeMond was a young hope) and the French were still crazy about road racing.
.
But the last Frenchman to win the Tour was Hinault, in 1985. This year, no Frenchman finished higher than 15th and only one won a stage. Overall, the French have won exactly one major race this year: Paris-Roubaix.
.
Other sports besides mountain biking have captured the young: The same newsstand that sold Vélo and two other road-racing magazines offered four French magazines about mountain-biking, five about the National Basketball Association, four about golf and even two about wrestling. None of these could have been found when Fignon was sweeping the Tour de France and the country was glorying in his triumph.
.
He is not speaking publicly these days, so his latest thoughts date a month back to the interview he gave to l'Equipe, the daily French sports newspaper, the day he retired. He was vintage Fignon, remote and brusque. Not for lack of trying was he voted the Prix Citron, the lemon prize, for rudeness in the 1989 Tour.
.
Had it meant something to him to start his last race? the Equipe reporter asked.
.
"Something?" Fignon repeated. "No, why should I have felt something?"
.
Not a heavy heart or sweaty palms?
.
"No. There was no reason for me to feel sad. I'm rather happy to retire. I decided on this many months ago and I started thinking about it two years ago. Since I signed with Gatorade [before the 1992 season] I knew I was joining my last team. Only the dead are sad and, as far as I'm concerned, don't talk about a burial but about the start of a new life. So don't be sad for me. What would have been sad was for me to continue, to keep quitting at the first feed zone, to finish a little like Eddy Merckx, who so badly ended his career ..."
.
You say you're fed up. With what?
.
"With everything. Fed up with cycling, with a world where all you see is the same people, with everything."
.
Do you fear that you'll be remembered more for your failures than your successes?
.
"Fear, no, I'm not afraid. People will remember whatever they want to, it won't mean anything to me."
.
Cold, defensive and ungrateful: Let us now praise famous men. Fignon won the Tour de France twice, in 1983 as an unknown and in 1984 when everybody went gunning for him. A month after he lost the Giro in the final day's time trial when Francesco Moser used his new aerodynamic bicycle to overtake him, Fignon overpowered the field in the '84 Tour de France, winning five stages. The victory was a demonstration of sheer dominance such as the pack witnesses only from a Merckx, an Hinault, an Indurain, and only in their prime.
.
And then, just 24, he was struck down. An operation for tendinitis in his left heel sidelined him for most of 1985 and not for years afterward did he fully recover. In 1988 he won Milan-San Remo and the next year he was back on top: first again in the Italian classic, first in the Giro and first in the Tour until the final day, when LeMond beat him by 50 seconds in the time trial and by 8 seconds overall.
.
Everybody remembers the photographs of a spent Fignon slumped and weeping on the Champs-Elysées after he crossed the finish to find himself a runner-up. Few remember that he placed third in the fastest time trial in the 90-year history of the Tour de France. What people forget now is that he went down fighting.
.
Fignon was always good at fighting, but often it was verbally and with rivals, the press and the fans. He mocked Hinault and LeMond, he struck photographers and snubbed reporters. What seems clear now is that Fignon really was always fighting with himself.
.
He raged. Fignon was not so much a French rider as a Parisian rider, and there is a clear distinction to be made here. French riders are generally well-mannered and soft-spoken, uncomplaining and accommodating. They win races but they are never winners in Fignon's class. They are formed young, burdened by the heavy satchel packed with books that French schoolchildren wear on their shoulders. See, French society appears to be saying, we all have a weight to carry through life.
.
Once in a while, though, a French rider throws off the weight and expresses that most admired and most feared attitude: character. Hinault was famous for his character. "I race to win, not to please people," he often said.
.
Like Hinault, Fignon had an excess of character. Born in Paris and a longtime resident of the capital, he was the archetypal Parisian, indifferent to everybody but himself.
.
Fignon snatched victories from teammates (Thierry Marie, the 1989 Tour of Holland; Gérard Rué, the 1988 Tour of the European Community), helped rivals win by chasing down his own teammates (Thierry Claveyrolat, the 1989 world championships) and treated them like hired hands ("They're paid to ride for me, not be my friends"). In the pack he was respected, and at his peak feared, but not admired.
.
He was Parisian to his fingertips, and not many riders will miss him. He was also a champion and an electric presence, and the sport, especially in France, needs more like him. That meteor, that lightning bolt Laurent Fignon has blazed out. Riding in a minor French race late in August, Fignon coasted to the side of the road halfway through and got off his bicycle for the last time as a professional. The authority for that is Fignon himself, and he can be believed.
.
Blazed out or burned out, how to decide? What can be said is that after a dozen years of majestic heights - two victories in the Tour de France, one in the Giro d'Italia, two in Milan-San Remo, one in the French national championship and profound depths - a heel injury that cost him peak seasons, last-stage losses of both the Tour and the Giro, two positive drug findings - at age 33 Fignon has retired as a racer.
.
He went out his own way, announcing beforehand that since he had no interest in competing in the world championships, the unsung Grand Prix Ouest-France would be his farewell. He would have already slipped into retirement, he said, but he owed it to the fans to be there.
.
The statement was pure Fignon: An arrogance that was almost touching in its naïveté. Or, if you wish, a naïveté that was almost dumbfounding in its arrogance.
.
By the time he retired, nobody came to see just him. The rider ranked 201st in the world considered himself a fan attraction? The rider whose sole victory this year was recorded in the tune-up Ruta Mexico in February? A two-page photograph in Vélo magazine, the bible of bicycle racing in France, inadvertently said it all. There in the foreground was Fignon, the familiar blond ponytail, the familiar granny glasses, the familiar strained look, and there in the background were five fans - all looking down the road away from Fignon.
.
Besides the photograph and a brief text block, Vélo had little else to say about his retirement. Not so long ago, a rider who recorded 76 victories in his career, including nine stage victories in the Tour de France, would have been given a proper send-off, with a long article, perhaps even a cover photograph and half a page of tributes. Now Vélo and French fans have mountain biking on their mind and the magazine gave the sport its cover and 20 of its 70 pages in the issue with Fignon's retirement.
.
Time has moved quickly since 1982, when Fignon emerged from an obscure amateur career and startlingly won the Critérium International in one of his first races as a professional with the juggernaut Renault team. Bernard Hinault was the Renault leader (Greg LeMond was a young hope) and the French were still crazy about road racing.
.
But the last Frenchman to win the Tour was Hinault, in 1985. This year, no Frenchman finished higher than 15th and only one won a stage. Overall, the French have won exactly one major race this year: Paris-Roubaix.
.
Other sports besides mountain biking have captured the young: The same newsstand that sold Vélo and two other road-racing magazines offered four French magazines about mountain-biking, five about the National Basketball Association, four about golf and even two about wrestling. None of these could have been found when Fignon was sweeping the Tour de France and the country was glorying in his triumph.
.
He is not speaking publicly these days, so his latest thoughts date a month back to the interview he gave to l'Equipe, the daily French sports newspaper, the day he retired. He was vintage Fignon, remote and brusque. Not for lack of trying was he voted the Prix Citron, the lemon prize, for rudeness in the 1989 Tour.
.
Had it meant something to him to start his last race? the Equipe reporter asked.
.
"Something?" Fignon repeated. "No, why should I have felt something?"
.
Not a heavy heart or sweaty palms?
.
"No. There was no reason for me to feel sad. I'm rather happy to retire. I decided on this many months ago and I started thinking about it two years ago. Since I signed with Gatorade [before the 1992 season] I knew I was joining my last team. Only the dead are sad and, as far as I'm concerned, don't talk about a burial but about the start of a new life. So don't be sad for me. What would have been sad was for me to continue, to keep quitting at the first feed zone, to finish a little like Eddy Merckx, who so badly ended his career ..."
.
You say you're fed up. With what?
.
"With everything. Fed up with cycling, with a world where all you see is the same people, with everything."
.
Do you fear that you'll be remembered more for your failures than your successes?
.
"Fear, no, I'm not afraid. People will remember whatever they want to, it won't mean anything to me."
.
Cold, defensive and ungrateful: Let us now praise famous men. Fignon won the Tour de France twice, in 1983 as an unknown and in 1984 when everybody went gunning for him. A month after he lost the Giro in the final day's time trial when Francesco Moser used his new aerodynamic bicycle to overtake him, Fignon overpowered the field in the '84 Tour de France, winning five stages. The victory was a demonstration of sheer dominance such as the pack witnesses only from a Merckx, an Hinault, an Indurain, and only in their prime.
.
And then, just 24, he was struck down. An operation for tendinitis in his left heel sidelined him for most of 1985 and not for years afterward did he fully recover. In 1988 he won Milan-San Remo and the next year he was back on top: first again in the Italian classic, first in the Giro and first in the Tour until the final day, when LeMond beat him by 50 seconds in the time trial and by 8 seconds overall.
.
Everybody remembers the photographs of a spent Fignon slumped and weeping on the Champs-Elysées after he crossed the finish to find himself a runner-up. Few remember that he placed third in the fastest time trial in the 90-year history of the Tour de France. What people forget now is that he went down fighting.
.
Fignon was always good at fighting, but often it was verbally and with rivals, the press and the fans. He mocked Hinault and LeMond, he struck photographers and snubbed reporters. What seems clear now is that Fignon really was always fighting with himself.
.
He raged. Fignon was not so much a French rider as a Parisian rider, and there is a clear distinction to be made here. French riders are generally well-mannered and soft-spoken, uncomplaining and accommodating. They win races but they are never winners in Fignon's class. They are formed young, burdened by the heavy satchel packed with books that French schoolchildren wear on their shoulders. See, French society appears to be saying, we all have a weight to carry through life.
.
Once in a while, though, a French rider throws off the weight and expresses that most admired and most feared attitude: character. Hinault was famous for his character. "I race to win, not to please people," he often said.
.
Like Hinault, Fignon had an excess of character. Born in Paris and a longtime resident of the capital, he was the archetypal Parisian, indifferent to everybody but himself.
.
Fignon snatched victories from teammates (Thierry Marie, the 1989 Tour of Holland; Gérard Rué, the 1988 Tour of the European Community), helped rivals win by chasing down his own teammates (Thierry Claveyrolat, the 1989 world championships) and treated them like hired hands ("They're paid to ride for me, not be my friends"). In the pack he was respected, and at his peak feared, but not admired.
.
He was Parisian to his fingertips, and not many riders will miss him. He was also a champion and an electric presence, and the sport, especially in France, needs more like him.

lofter

i heard fignon is a tough interview to get now days. a real private man . he is missed for sure.

Paul Wiseman

I always admired Fignon as a racer, but I really like him now that he has been able to walk away from the racing scene and forge a new path for himself. Many of these guys know nothing else apart from the bike, and they will always be dependant on the sport in one way or another. But the guy who studied vetinary science before being a pro, had the balls to walk away and try something new.

lofter

he loves golf. he loves to talk golf.