Roche refuses to ride information superhighway
It’s 25 years since Roche won the Tour de France. Always quick to spot an opportunity in a race, Roche is developing the same skills in business, and he has used the anniversary to launch his autobiography, Born to Ride.
Just as swift to spot an opportunity for a conversation with a personal hero, I jumped at the chance to meet the first English-speaking sportsman to win the world’s toughest bike race. Not that Roche is limited to one language. By the time the former machinist in Premier Dairies wore the maillot jaune on the Champs-Élysées, Roche was fluent in French and Italian. Polite, amicable and engaging, he was always a journalist’s dream.
In the moment that defined his sporting career, he produced one of his most memorable quotes.
On reaching the summit of the La Plagne ski resort, Roche collapsed and was given oxygen. While he had succeeded in limiting his losses against climbing specialist Pedro Delgado, it appeared that Roche had reached too far into his reserves.
The following day he faced another arduous stage in the Alps. Still white with exhaustion, he was asked: ‘Stephen, can you please reassure your fans you’re okay? Can you say a few words? He replied: “Everything’s okay, mais pas de femme ce soir.” There’ll be no woman for me tonight.
Needless to say, the French men loved him. But the French ladies worshipped him too.
A few years earlier he had been interviewed in the Tour’s post stage television programme on Europe 1. He was asked to select some songs. By that time, Roche and his then wife, Lydia, had two young children, Nicolas and Christel. As a professional cyclist he spent weeks away from home. For example, in May of 1987 when he left for the Tour of Romandy, his daughter Christel was crawling around. When he returned at the end of the Tour de France in July, she was walking.
For the television programme, Roche picked a song by Claude François called When the Telephone Cries.
“It’s about a daddy who’s away a lot and he’s talking to his wife on the phone and asks to speak to his young daughter. She asks him: ‘Who are you?’ And at the end of the conversation, she says: ‘But do you know my mammy?’
Later Roche learned that he had “the half of France in tears that evening”.
An extremely open individual, Roche never had any problem revealing aspects of his personal life or personality. Ask him about his family background, his early days in Dublin, his likes, his dislikes and he’ll happily answer any question.
Given the access that he provided the media during his career, it might be assumed that Roche would be a major proponent of the Twitter generation.
You would think that he would be in favour of an online forum which allows sportsmen to engage directly with their fans. But you’d be wrong.
Sipping an espresso coffee and wearing designer glasses, Roche is very much the cultured European, but he also remains a straight-talking Dub.
“I don’t understand these fellas on Facebook and Twitter,” he said. “The messages, ‘Night, night, going to bed,’ and ‘Taking the kids to school’. They’re sharing all this crap with everybody and nobody, and yet they won’t shake your hand when they get out of the team bus.
“That’s contradictory. They would be better off doing less Twitter, and spend more time with the fans.”
Of course, GAA president Liam O’Neill would be delighted if our nation’s hurlers and footballers only churned out the type of tweets which irritate Roche so much.
O’Neill went on the offensive last week when he took severe umbrage at tweets which alleged that the qualifier draw was rigged. While willing to turn a blind eye, O’Neill warned that libel action would be taken if it happened again. Not surprisingly, O’Neill’s forthright and aggressive response prompted a mass debate about the merits of social networks. To tweet or not to tweet? That is the question.
Anyone unfamiliar with the standard content of online messaging will probably have gained a false impression on what is usually spewing around in cyberspace.
The criticism of referees and the odd swipe at Croke Park is the good stuff. But, this is the point which can’t be stressed enough, those juicy nuggets are few and far between.
By and large, the comments on Twitter are mind-numbingly dull. ‘Having lunch. Turkey breast and salad baguette with no mayonnaise.’ ‘Cheers for that, but I really couldn’t care less. Now go away and get yourself a Big Mac you boring, self-obsessed, mirror-licker.’
And that’s why I’m not on Twitter.
One of the main reasons Roche loathes the triteness of twitterdom is that he believes the public deserves to really know their heroes.
He outlined his views on this subject in Born to Ride. “I don’t know whether today’s riders will be as well recognised in 20 years as the riders from my generation are now. My generation also had a closer relationship with the fans because there were no team buses where we could hide ourselves away… Nowadays there is a lot of talk about results, but not so much about personalities and I don’t think that helps in any sport because personalities draw people in.
“Back in my day, guys like Delgado, Hinault, Fignon and Kelly were personalities the fans knew all about, men they could relate to.
“Now the fans might know who won Paris-Roubaix or the Tour de France, but they are less connected to the man and I think that’s very unfortunate.
“Put a guy in front of me in his helmet and glasses and I might recognise the cyclist, but I wouldn’t recognise the man.”
Therein lies the real problem with Twitter.
Open to all, it allows the colourless and the bland to express their colourless and bland opinions.
It’s great when sporting icons have personalities that complement their incredible talent. All too often, that’s just not the case.
And if Twitter has established one thing, it’s that some sportsmen should speak through their actions rather than their tweets.
* p.heaney@irishnews.com
