Fotheringham could have made the thrust of his book that Hinault was the greatest cyclist of all time, the honor that is generally bestowed upon Eddie Merckx, who he aggrandized in "Half Man, Half Bike." But instead of making any judgement, Fotheringham chooses to give a straightforward biography with some additional commentary on the state of French cycling. Hinault certainly is one of the all-time greats--one of only four to win The Tour de France five times along with Merckx, Jacques Anqutiil and Miguel Indurain. He wasn't as voracious for wins as Merckx, but he was as ardent a competitor. Tour winner Lucien Van Impe, who raced against them both, said of Hinault, "I've never seen inner anger like his," which fueled his racing. When he fully committed himself to winning a race, he generally did. When he didn't win The Tour, he finished second (twice) or abandoned, which he did once when he was in the lead. Whenever he lined up in the two other Grand Tours, he won them--the Vuelta d'Espagne twice and the Giro d'Italia three times--an incomparable record. Only he and Alberto Contador have won all three Grand Tours more than once.
Hinault was such a steely competitor, Fotheringham couldn't find a single case of him being reduced to tears (whether in exaltation or disappointment), as he has in all the others he has written about. Merckx was such an emotional sort he cried when he learned Santa Claus didn't exist. One of the most legendary photos of Merckx is of him laying in bed in tears after his eviction from the Giro for testing positive for drugs. Merckx would no doubt have been shedding tears if he had had to quit The Tour in the lead due to injury, as did Hinault in 1980 after having won it the previous two years, making him the youngest ever to have won it twice.
Hinault left The Tour under cover of darkness just before the Pyrenees with a painful knee, avoiding the press, not because he was afraid that he would break down in tears, but because he feared he would turn violent, upset with the questions. He has always been a man prone to strongly and defiantly asserting himself. One of the photos most synonymous with Hinault is of him leading a rider's strike in his very first Tour in 1978, standing at the forefront of the peloton with his chin thrust forward. He was one of the youngest riders in The Race, but already had a take-charge, take-no-prisoners mentality. On another occasion he barreled headlong into striking workers barring the road and then started pummeling them with his fists. He's hardly mellowed with age, once shoving an intruder off The Tour de France stage during the awards ceremony.
He had the audacity to win the final stage of the 1979 Tour in a breakaway, even though he had The Race all wrapped up, the first Tour winner to a pull off such a stunt since 1935, something that Merckx, The Cannibal, never accomplished. Ordinarily, the Yellow Jersey concedes the glory of winning that final stage to someone else.
So it should have come as no surprise that Hinault wouldn't defer to Greg LeMond, his teammate, in the 1986 Tour, Hinault's last, even though he had promised he would help him win it after LeMond didn't challenge him in 1985 when Hinault struggled with an injury, as he held on to win his fifth Tour.
An entire book, "Slaying the Badger," was written about their rivalry in the 1986 Tour. Fotheringham doesn't offer any new perspective or speculation on what Hinault's intent or motivation was, as he sticks to his by-the-numbers rendering of his life. Most of his research comes from other books and the coverage of "L'Equipe," which he quotes over forty times, often citing the writer of the article. Many are figures of renown and peers of Fotheringham, such as Jean-Marie LeBlanc, who went on to be the director of The Tour.
Besides its superb analysis, "L'Equipe" is noted for it's headlines. Among those he cites is "Now, let's love him." It came in the 1984 Tour when he was overwhelmed by Fignon, finishing ten minutes behind him on L'Alpe d'Huez, showing his vulnerability for the first time. Even though he was a four-time winner of The Tour at the time, the French had never fully embraced him. He was too brash and arrogant and made the winning look too easy. When he staggered on L'Alpe d'Huez and showed his human side, the public and the press felt a soft spot for him. His team owner, who happened to be rooming with him, revealed that Hinault acknowledged he had reached his crisis point and was close to tears.
Fotheringham doesn't quote many of his teammates, as did Richard Moore in his Slaying book. Moore found an array of riders who raved about what a great teammate he could be, despite his treatment of LeMond. Fotheringham does reveal that he was a rare team leader who would wash his own clothes.
Throughout his career there haven't been enough such glimpses of his humanity to endear him to the French. He is certainly held in high esteem, having been inducted into the French Legion of Honor in January of1986 even before he retired, but he is not revered, as are many lesser riders. In my twelve years of riding The Tour route I have never seen a banner or road graffiti honoring him, as are common for Raymond Poulidor and Laurent Jalabert, two other retired champion French cyclists who are part of The Tour entourage and remain fan favorites. The French prefer those who struggle and show strain. Hinault won in a ferocious, domineering manner. He never complained or waxed on about the suffering inherent to the sport, as many riders glorify. He did acknowledge, "It can be painful, but it hurts because I want to hurt myself. If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't."
The final chapter of the book is devoted to the present state of French cycling and the possibility of the French breaking their dry spell of thirty years since their last Tour win--Hinault in 1985. Fotheringham points out that 1984 was the last year the French dominated their national Tour. They won the bulk of the stages. Seven of the seventeen teams were French and 54 of the 170 starters. It was shortly after Hinalt's retirement that high octane drugs took over the sport, which the French riders were less inclined to resort to than others, thus spelling their doom. He offers a chart in his appendix of how few French riders and riders on French teams have tested positive since the 1998 Featina Affair. With drug-taking on the wane both Fotheringham and Hinault believe the French can reassert themselves. But to do it they must be aggressive and abide by the Law of Hinault--"Attack."
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