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Evenepoel wins the Clásica de San Sebastián by crushing

2022-07-31T04:10:19.444Z


The Belgian cyclist achieves his second victory in San Sebastián after a devastating attack 44 kilometers from the finish line


Cycling fans are promiscuous.

Members of the Alessandro Covi fan club walk around, with Puma de Taino banners, wearing tricolor wigs, and since they are there and their cyclist does not ride the Classic, they take photos with any Italian rider who passes by after the control of firms.

What if Nibali, who tells them that he is going to win, what if Cataldo.

Even some Portuguese, like Rui Costa, stop and take pictures in the middle of the Boulevard, full of tourists dragging suitcases, and people from San Sebastian trying to avoid the inconveniences of a crowded event.

José Miguel Echavarri walks by, somewhat older than when he directed a cycling empire that reached its zenith with Indurain, although just as wise, and escorts him, two steps behind, like someone who knows his place, Francis Lafargue, the Basque of Biarritz La Negresse, next to the railway station, which accompanied him for decades in the adventure.

They go unnoticed, because cycling is now in younger hands, as they were in their glory days, and few recognize Raúl Alcalá either, winner in 1992 under the downpour and the headlights of the cars, the day that Lance Armstrong, the cyclist that never existed, debuted as a professional, and thought, in his arrogance, that he was going to win.

He finished last.

People know the young people better, and shout "Remco, Remco!", when Evenepoel goes down the great avenue, or goes up it, on his way to his bus first, then to the exit, in which he greets Valverde, who receives a tribute.

Later, five and a half hours later, it will be he who asks the fans who crowd behind the fences to chant his name.

He cheers them on with his arms, puts his hand to his ear to listen to him and then, in his gestural display, raises two fingers and points to the asphalt: “Twice here”, in San Sebastián, alpha and omega;

the scene of his first great victory, that of his last, which will probably be followed by many more.

A triumph by crushing, without palliatives for his rivals, if he had them;

brutal, spectacular Evenepoel, 45 kilometers from the finish, when the peloton climbed Erlaitz, and Tadej Pogacar was no longer in the group, mentally disconnected from the race when the group climbed Jaizkibel, the traditional faithful of the Clásica.

He stayed there to chat with his team's car, while he let Quick Step do what he did, preparing the race for him, lap and lap, as the Belgian phenomenon likes, whom only Simon Yates could follow, but less than a kilometer, because by the time Evenepoel reached the top, the Briton had already lost sight of him and the Belgian had won the Classic.

More than half a minute in Erlaitz, 1.01m in Rentería.

Kicking the pedals, a devastating pace, Evenepoel did not give a single millimeter on the flat, and every time the road turned uphill, the difference between Sivakov and Carlos Rodríguez, the Spanish champion, the Ineos duo that tried to to close the ever-widening gap.

At the top of Miracruz, with the diners of Arzak, who turns 80 on Sunday, taking a break from after-dinner, leaning out the door, the difference remained stable: also at the ringing of the bell on San Sebastian Boulevard, and increased when the road was narrowed at the detour to Igeldo due to its steep slope.

It only remained to know who would be second, who would accompany the phenomenon with the consolation prizes, because Evenepoel also won the one for the mountains, the one for the special sprints and, of course, the one for best young man, which he will win for a few more years. .

Rodríguez yielded in the last ramps, and passed the witness to Sivakov, more than two minutes at the top of Murgil Tontorra, packed like the Kapelmuur of the Tour of Flanders, like the Redoute in Liège;

from behind, Benoot overtook the Spaniard;

Mollema would also do it at the finish line.

By then, Evenepoel was cautiously descending towards Ondarreta beach, on his way to the finish line, to the mass bathing on the Boulevard, where, as in Liège, he was able to celebrate his crushing victory to his heart's content.

Then, after 44 kilometers alone, he got off the bike, turned off the heart rate monitor and smiled.

“Now I am a more complete runner than three years ago, I weigh two kilos less but I am just as explosive.

And now I will run Burgos and after I will take 15 days to make a few barbecues”.

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Source: elparis

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