My World Read online

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  List of Illustrations

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Introduction from Sportful

  Prologue

  Part One - Richmond

  Winter

  On Slovakia

  Spring

  Summer

  On Family

  Autumn

  Part Two - Doha

  Winter

  On Tinkov

  Spring

  On Sprinting

  Summer

  Autumn

  Part Three - Bergen

  On Bora - hansgrohe

  Winter

  Spring

  On Team Peter

  Summer

  On The Other Guys

  Autumn

  Epilogue

  Picture Section

  Index

  Copyright

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  From 2015 to 2017, Peter Sagan achieved the seemingly impossible: he won three road race World Championships in a row, ensuring his entry into the history books as one of the greatest riders of all time.

  But to look at Peter’s record in isolation is to tell only a fraction of his story, because Peter doesn’t just win: he entertains. Every moment in the saddle is an opportunity to express his personality, and nobody else has succeeded in making elite cycling look so much fun. From no-hands wheelies on the slopes of Mont Ventoux to press conference mischief with clamouring journalists, Peter exudes a passion for the sport and a lovable desire to bring smiles to the faces of his fans.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Slovakian cyclist Peter Sagan is the three-time world road race champion, joining great of the sport such as Eddy Merckx and Alfredo Binda. He has also won the Tour de France green jersey five times and over 100 professional events on pro circuit.

  He has been name professional cyclist of the year for 2016 and was the winner of the Velo D’Or in the same year. In 2018 he rides for German team, Bora-Hansgrohe.

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  1. Slovak flags in Bergen (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  2. Mid-race in Bergen (Tim De Waele/Getty Images)

  3. Bergen sprint (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  4. Bergen podium (Tim De Waele/Getty Images)

  5. Young Peter at Liquigas (Yuzuru Sunada)

  6. Peter, Basso and Nibali (PASCAL PAVANI/AFP/Getty Images)

  7. Tour de France 2012 Stage 6 win (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  8. Peter’s father celebrates (Cycling Weekly)

  9. Jersey winners in 2012 (LIONEL BONAVENTURE/AFP/GettyImages)

  10. Ján Valach 1999 (Mario Stiehl/Cycling News)

  11. Kids Tour 2015 (Peter Sagan Kids Tour)

  12. With Žilina children 2015 (SAMUEL KUBANI/AFP/Getty Images)

  13. Bobby Julich addressing Tinkoff team (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  14. In conversation with Bjarne Riis (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  15. Peter and Tinkov in green jersey (Tinkoff/SaxoBank)

  16. Tinkov flipping the birds 2016 (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  17. Feltrin, Tinkov, Riis (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  18. With Contador at Tinkoff (Tinkoff / Valamar Hotels & Resorts)

  19. 2016 Tinkoff Team (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  20. Richmond Team Time Trial (Bryn Lennon/Getty Images)

  21. Richmond sprint (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  22. Looking back to the pack in Richmond (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  23. UCI Word Champion celebration (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  24. Medal in mouth (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  25. Thrown in the air (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  26. With Michael Kolář, Juraj and L’ubomír (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  27. Holding up the Slovak flag (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  28. With Tom Boonen after Gent–Wevelgem (DIRK WAEM/AFP/Getty Images)

  29. Rainbow Socks (LC/Tim De Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  30. Tour of Flanders home stretch (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  31. Podium with Cancellara (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  32. Mountain bike wheelie (Tinkoff/Specialized)

  33. Rio Press Conference (Slovak Olympic Committee)

  34. Competing in Olympics 1 (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  35. Competing in Olympics 2 (PASCAL GUYOT/AFP/Getty Images)

  36. Doha sign-in (KT/Tim De Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  37. Celebrating Doha (KARIM JAAFAR/AFP/Getty Images)

  38. Hugging Juraj after Doha (Luca Bettini/BettiniPhoto)

  39. Three UCI World Champions (Bryn Lennon/Getty Images)

  40. Willi Bruckbauer (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  41. Ralph Denk (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  42. Shower advert (Hansgrohe)

  43. Second place in Milan–San Remo (YANN COATSALIOU/AFP/Getty Images)

  44. Tour of Flanders 2017 crash (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  45. Paris–Roubaix disappointment (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  46. Young Peter and Juraj 2011 (Tim De Waele/Getty Images)

  47. Team Peter riders Tour de France 2108 (Justin Setterfield/Getty Images)

  48. Sylwester Szmyd (Graham Watson)

  49. With Maroš (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  50. In car with Patxi and Gabriele (Patxi Vila)

  51. Giovanni Lombardi in T-Mobile kit (Eric Houdas/WikiCommons)

  52. Giovanni, Peter and Gabriele (Peter Sagan Fondo)

  53. Peter and Gabriele tattoos (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  54. With Gabriele raincoat (Jordan Benjamin-Sutton)

  55. Team Peter and team bus (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  56. 2017 Tour de France team presentation (Tim de Waele/Corbis via Getty Images)

  57. Unclipped! (Simon Gill/Action Plus via Getty Images)

  58. Vittel collision (Chris Graythen/Getty Images)

  59. Reviewing the Vittel collision (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  60. Vittel press statement (Brian Hodes/Veloimages)

  61. Christina O (yachtcharterfleet.com)

  62. Cigars on board (Peter Sagan)

  63. Missing teeth (Peter Sagan)

  64. The Hell of the North (Tim de Waele/Getty Images)

  65. Winning in Roubaix Velodrome (Tim de Waele/Getty Images)

  66. Roubaix celebration with Giovanni (Luca Bettini/Bettini Photos)

  67. With cobble (Tim de Waele/Getty Images)

  To my son Marlon.

  This book is about my biggest victories in cycling.

  You are my biggest victory in life.

  INTRODUCTION FROM SPORTFUL

  ‘What Sagan really is never came only from his wins, but rather from his attitude, from his character and his personality. With Sportful, he’s won the Tour of Flanders, Paris–Roubaix, and he’s worn the green and rainbow jerseys. But for us, he is a friend.’

  Dario Cremonese is looking at a picture from the 2017 Milan–San Remo. It’s a photo finish between Alaphilippe, Sagan and Kwiatkowski. ‘Take this race, for instance. If you ask around who won San Remo that year, I’m positive someone could be wrong and say Sagan. Of course it was Kwiato who won. But how many people remember the finish line, and how many remember the breakaway on the Poggio? I mean, Peter attacking uphill, like Nibali or Froomey! It would have been epic, but his effort went too deep and he couldn’t give that final kick. And right after that major defeat, he was able to smile and say to the reporters that, come the finish line, who cares about the results – the show for the people is what really matters.

  ‘What Peter is will never be define
d by his results on the bike. And if we think about what he has achieved, that’s even more amazing.’

  Alessio Cremonese remembers a party thrown by Peter after the green jersey win in 2018. “It was striking. Of course the staff and the team were there, but next to Peter you would also see his childhood friends, the guys from Slovakia whom Peter has always been close to. He would not forget about them when the success came. We met each other, I said congratulations to him, and he was smiling: “Oh yes, thanks, but you know, that is done now. Tomorrow is another day.”

  ‘His heart has always been more important than his legs. I remember when, after his third consecutive World Championship win, he dedicated the victory to Michele Scarponi, who was killed that same year. But I also think about those little things no one ever talks about – hints of a strikingly kind character. Something you would never suspect if you just look at the smile and the jokes, the muscles and the wins. There is a hidden Peter even more surprising than the star athlete.’

  Dario takes a photo in his hand. Peter is in green again in front of the team bus on the Champs-Élysées, and he’s hugging Dario. They are together, smiling and excited. ‘He came to the bus to celebrate the win together with the team, he saw me and he came to hug me. He was always close to me, most of all when our friendship really mattered, when I needed it. He helped me through some hard times, and, you know, in those moments you just need that – a message, a call, a visit. Peter could do that, and he did.

  ‘That’s something that’s not obvious, and it gives a better idea of who Peter is. And also, think about how much excitement is in the air and how many people want to celebrate with him. Many great riders need to say no to things to always be at the top. Peter has this unique quality of never saying no to the little things, and at the same time he is a super serious worker.

  ‘At Sportful, our motto is LIVE IT. There – that’s really Peter.’

  2015

  PROLOGUE

  For the tenth time today, the masts of the tall ships loom up on our right. The scent in my nostrils changes as it always does at this point. From the damp cool of a Scandinavian weekend afternoon to the tang of the harbour, flavoured with the smoky promise of dozens of fast-food grills selling every kind of edible meat or fish that you can cram into some bread and sell to a hungry cycling fan.

  This is the long sweeping left-hand bend that separates the waterfront from the colourful town houses that characterise this beautiful old port. The first time we came along here it was at quite a gentle pace, with barely 40 kilometres ridden. That must have been shortly after 11 a.m. this morning. The next half a dozen or so times we came past those rocking masts and chattering rigging the intensity had risen enough to mean there were fewer cyclists hanging on each time. There were nearly 200 of us this morning; now, after the last two or three hard laps of this hilly little circuit in Bergen, there look to be around 60 of us left. A UCI official starts clanging furiously at a big old brass bell to tell us that there is one lap to go. I’m suddenly acutely aware of the No. 1 on my back. It’s now four in the afternoon, and I’ve probably got about half an hour left as UCI World Champion.

  The race was really confusing.

  It had started slow, which suited me. I hadn’t eaten or drunk properly for a couple of days since having a ridiculously badly-timed stomach upset at home in Monaco on Friday. And that had followed a week off the bike due to a flu virus. I don’t want to moan about being sick because it doesn’t happen that often, but suffice to say the last fortnight was not the preparation I’d had in mind going into one of the highlight events of the racing calendar. I’d been World Champion for the last two years and there was every chance that I was going to lose the UCI rainbow jersey today even if I’d been in splendid health. Most people were predicting that the circuit would be too difficult for a rider they considered to be a ‘sprinter who could get over a hill’ rather than a true puncheur like Julian Alaphilippe, Philippe Gilbert or my predecessor as World Champion, Michal Kwiatkowski (or Kwiato, as we call him). They also thought that I would be too well marked to succeed for a third time, with the bigger teams whistling ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ to themselves. In addition, the smart money believed that those same larger teams would swamp our little Slovakian band of brothers when we needed to control the race.

  A break had gone away early. The race began in a little town not far away before settling into these dozen circuits of downtown Bergen, the harbourside, the seafront, Salmon Hill. So many races go through a desperate scramble in the first hour as everybody tries to get themselves into the day-long race-shaping break that will inevitably be hauled back by the strongest riders, but fortunately for my churning stomach that never happened. The break formed. It went. By the time they were ten minutes up the road, the rest of us 200 or so hopefuls started riding a bit, and by then I was beginning to feel like a bike rider again.

  I should have been here for the last ten days or so. I had been planning to hook up with my BORA - hansgrohe teammates for the Team Time Trial a week before today. The TTT is a relatively new addition to the World Cycling Championships roster and it’s a bit weird as you still ride for your regular professional team, rather than your country, as in every other event at the Worlds. That opportunity to wave a patriotic flag rather than wear the baseball cap of a bank, bike company or a kitchen extractor fan manufacturer is what gives the Worldssuch a draw for fans. Also, as the racing takes place over a circuit rather than point-to-point, it’s a much more watchable event for the fans, and they come from all over the world to shout, cheer, drink and – hopefully – celebrate. Slovakians are very good at all these testing disciplines.

  BORA - hansgrohe had claimed a top ten finish in my absence and my Slovakian teammates were expecting to be doing the Road Race without me too. I’d hauled my sorry, sweaty ass out of bed and flown out of Nice yesterday morning, spending most of the 2,500 kilometres in the toilet.

  I’d been pretty quiet on the start line; glad and frankly amazed just to be there. As we passed over the finish line for the first time when we reached the Bergen circuit, I turned to my brother, Juraj riding alongside me, both of us resplendent in our blue, red and white Slovakia skinsuits. ‘Take a good look,’ I told him. ‘I don’t think we’ll be seeing this line again.’

  But the steady pace was good for me, and so was the mild temperature. A year ago, I’d won this title in searing heat in Qatar. I couldn’t see my dehydrated system getting away with that again; Norway was a lot more accommodating.

  I buried myself in the heart of the bunch. It was decreasing in numbers gradually as the race went on. The Worlds always has a high dropout rate for a number of reasons. One: a lot of nations send riders to make up the numbers to keep their foot in the door with the powers that be and try to ensure they don’t lose those places in subsequent years. Two: many riders are there to control, chase or get in breaks in the first half of the race for their team leaders and their jobs are complete before the real action begins. Three: it’s a really, really long race – 267 kilometres in 2017 – at the end of a long season and you have to ride past the welcoming, warm, dry pits area many times. You can feel your handlebars begin to turn in of their own accord, the magnetic pull increasing with each lap. You might even be able to see your hotel from the route.

  It was fairly steady until about five laps to go. Then the Dutch guys all got on the front and everything got distinctly uncomfortable. The Netherlands always seem to bring seemingly unending numbers of powerful horses to the Worlds and if you’re in the bunch and you see what seems like dozens of 80kg six-foot-plus musclemen in orange jerseys get on the front it’s always time to take a deep breath and grit your teeth. The fasten seatbelts sign goes on in your head. You know it’s going to get bumpy.

  Paradoxically, nobody from Holland has won this race in my lifetime. But while they might not have been kings for a long time, they have the ability to be kingmakers, inadvertently or not.

  I’d been through a few tests by
this time and mentally I counted them off. Test one: get to Bergen. Tick. Test Two: start race. Tick. Test Three: look like a cyclist for an hour. Tick.

  This was Test Four: survive an injection of pace. Oh well, I’ll never be one to die wondering. Better get on with it, Peter.

  There were about a hundred of us left. After a race is over, I am often asked to explain how it unfolded, especially if I’ve won, as if it was a novel I’d written, shuffling characters around, plotting the action, throwing in a few red herrings and placing the hero in peril. It’s an attractive conceit and I can see why they would like me to take up the invitation, but it’s not possible. They’re not wrong that there is a narrative, but it’s just my narrative. There are a hundred guys each with a story, each story different to everybody else’s. I can only tell mine. You know GoPro cameras? They’re great, eh? One fixed to the front of a bike can give you real excitement and a feel for the internal workings of a race. Now imagine that was your only view of the race. The World Championships in Bergen without helicopter coverage, without motorbike coverage, without finish-line cameras, without commentary, all six and a half hours of it. Well, that’s my story, my movie, my narrow version of the hundred versions, and I don’t think we’d find many willing viewers for that.

  I hung on. Focused on the wheel in front. Hid, really. I’m used to riding near the front to see what’s going on and it turns out that it’s all a bit confusing 30 wheels back. But I wasn’t thinking about winning, I was thinking about surviving, and about a respectful end to my two years of wearing this fabulously storied rainbow jersey.

  The noise around the circuit didn’t let up for a second, and even as the intensity of the race increased it was impossible to miss the huge number of Slovak fans who had made the trip to Norway. Flags of my home country arched impossibly high into the sky on huge poles. Every time I heard my name shouted, I felt a little stronger. Every Slovak scream from the roadside reminded me that there was an entire nation at home urging me forward, praying for the impossible to happen. There were thousands of Viking helmets covered in red, white and blue Norwegian colours, huge mountains of men waving flares, hot dogs or cans of beer. The smell of sizzling frankfurters or the charring of smoked fish was never absent, just shifting in curtains of scent as you passed from one group to another. Swiss fans rang implausibly large cowbells. No cow would survive a night on the Matterhorn with one of those things round her neck. Union Jacks were in abundance too, a budget airline flight for a fantastic weekend was too much for the fanatical British supporters to pass up. French and Italian supporter groups crystallised into passionate smaller gangs extolling the praises of one or other particular rider, matching T-shirts imploring Tony Gallopin or Warren Barguil or Gianni Moscon or Sonny Colbrelli to deliver them a rainbow jersey.