Tour de France. The Yates twins parade at the Bilbao fiesta

The Basque streets decorated for the had their effect Tour de France. One was almost enchanted to watch them as the runners passed. Colors, flags, lots of people, happy people. Everywhere. In the flat stretches, even along the descents there was someone, and yes there is never anyone along the descents, but in the Basque Country yes, even there. Maybe they were the ones who had lingered or woken up late and hadn’t found room on the sides of the uphill roads. Because the uphill roads were full of people, which seemed to be in the Pyrenees. The runners barely passed by how many people there were, and all festive and excited. And they weren’t even big climbs, small hills: the French had called them cote and when the French do this it means it doesn’t take long to climb, just enough to get a little confused about the pedals. And confusion there was, a lot, maybe not surprising, but almost yes.

The faces of those two who had turned into avant-gardists on the descent also had their effect, as if to thank those people who had perhaps not managed to reach the ascent. Two similar faces, carved in the same way, two almost identical expressions, the Yates twins, Adam and Simon. They had found themselves in front of each other partly by choice and partly by chance, because it often goes like this, not always what is planned then materializes as it was believed, but to make it materialize you still need to be ready. Adam Yates and Simon Yates would have liked to stay with the leaders on the last climb, they hadn’t made it. Also because the former were the usual two, the ones who in all likelihood will goad each other from here to Paris to try to get the wheel off each other, Tadej Pogacar and Jonas Vingegaard. It was from Paris-Nice that they wanted to fight again. They took advantage of the first opportunity. They weren’t alone though. With them Victor Lafay. He wasn’t expected to be there, it wasn’t even expected that at a certain point, uphill, he would accelerate, take the lead of the race. Just a few moments, but in the meantime… In the meantime the Frenchman was there, with his usual bold and shaky pedaling, to demonstrate that he really knows how to go fast on a bicycle and that if bad luck leaves him alone he can also do excellent things. He has already put the first one in his pocket: there was no one next to Pogacar and Vingegaard, no one besides him. Not even those two with similar faces.

Adam Yates and Simon Yates were not there with those two at the top of Alto de Pike. They were there close, but close still means detached. Pogacar and Vingegaard looked at each other, they said “don’t take me off anyway” without saying anything, just with a look. Lafay was pleased a little too much, the Yates twins went straight away, without waiting for those who hadn’t waited for them.

Puff.

Not even Adam Yates and Simon Yates spoke to each other, even a few glances were enough for them to understand each other. They raced for a long time in the same jersey, then chose different paths. It was their luck. When they were together they were a little too protective of each other, the different shirts gave them a little more naughtiness. Other than that, not much has changed. Same affection, same habits, together in training.

They probably hadn’t met on the way down from Alto de Pike, they just happened to be there by instinct. They say that twins feel how happy or sad the other is, it is worth believing. Adam Yates had been given half carte blanche for today, Simon Yates was perhaps attracted by this, more likely he made the quick calculation that if, Pogacar and Vingegaard aside, they race for third place, perhaps if he races for the second it goes further. In Bilbao he gained eight seconds which with six bonuses make fourteen – not a fortune, but sometimes by putting together the change you satisfy some vice – he saw his brother win. He went well, he can be happy.

Adam Yates was happy too, especially Adam Yates. Great satisfaction to be the first to cross the finish line in the first stage of the Tour: it means victory and the yellow jersey, it means a good blow of lust. He is at the Grande Boucle to be the last man to Tadej Pogacar, the Boss, as he calls him. Not gregarious: support, perhaps counterpoint. Because the Slovenian’s wrist was broken in the Liège-Bastogne-Liège put like this and you never know what could happen. Pogacar seems to be fine, great indeed. As a team they believe in it, but they want to protect themselves. In any case, it is too early to draw conclusions.

It’s the first stage, there are another twenty to run, many climbs, some quite long. It’s just the beginning, but it’s better to start like this.

Certainly better than how Tom Pidcock, Romain Bardet, Louis Meintjes, Ben O’Connor, Giulio Ciccone, Julian Alaphilippe started. Break away. Twenty-one seconds isn’t much, but they’re there and they couldn’t be there. Even Egan Bernal has those twenty-one seconds on his back, but they weigh less on him. He said he was happy just to race the Tour, because it wasn’t obvious, because if it didn’t go too well he would be left in a wheelchair, if it didn’t go well, he would lie in a bed, if it went badly we would mourn him. He smiled upon arrival, he will see himself on the real mountains, he will have some to be with the very first.

Enric Mas and Richard Carapaz fared worse than everyone else. They crashed downhill. The first didn’t try to start again, shaken and in shock, the second did, even if he could barely pedal. The knee was in bad shape, the possibility that tonight it will be swollen like a melon is very high, the one that tomorrow will not be the same at the start. Sin. They had worked long and well. Finishing a Tour after one hundred and sixty kilometers is a disappointment.

The order of arrival and the general classification of the Tour de France after the first stage