I’m on my way to being one of cycling’s superfans – I’ve got the t-shirt, but have yet to lose my trousers
The nature of fandom has long fascinated me, or more specifically, how it manifests itself. From excitable Colombians and Basques, to those who feel compelled to run alongside the road, feckless sign holders (remember ‘Allez Opi-Omi!’?) and selfie takers, cycling fans come in many guises. The title of Dan Martin’s autobiography, Chased by Pandas, encapsulates the mysterious impulse to don a costume and go bananas in the countryside.
One of the strangest things I have ever seen during a Grand Tour was that of an otherwise typically dapper, elderly Italian chap spectating on a mountain stage of the Giro d’Italia. Wearing a crash helmet, sunglasses, pressed shirt and standing by his scooter, he had, however, removed his trousers.
While one can only be full of admiration for such a unique way of spurring on younger men as they make their agonised way up a steep incline, there is indeed another form of fandom altogether –the superfan.
I first encountered this phenomenon in 2018. It was the morning of the World Cyclocross Championships in Valkenburg and I was in an otherwise unremarkable hotel having breakfast, when a chap approached me. Not speaking a word of Dutch, I responded – in typically British fashion – with “sorry? I beg your pardon?”. My new friend laughed, and turned to his chuckling party. “We all thought you were Lars Van der Haar’s dad,” he said, adding “we’re the Mathieu van der Poel fan club.” A stout bloke came into view wearing an MVDP polo shirt, fleece, jacket, baseball cap and carrying an MVDP flag. I was impressed. This was a love supreme. He was basically a cycling ultra.
The Dutch gentleman and his friends were all from the same place as the van der Poel family, and he had ridden with Mathieu’s father, Adri, when they were kids. When MVDP had begun to show promise as a youngster, they started the fan club.
They were not alone. At the race venue itself, the course was lined with fans of various riders, many of whom also had huge flags with their hero’s correspondingly massive face on it and the clothing to go with it.
Adam’s official supporter’s gear
(Image credit: Adam Jones)
My interest piqued, I wanted to experience this for myself. I’ve always been a fan of Greg Van Avermaet, so – full of hope – I joined the fan club (for €5.00 pp). The experience was quite charming. Everyone was very welcoming, even though I was an outsider. However, it soon became evident that localness was the key to really benefiting from the whole experience. Despite the t-shirt proclaiming that I was an ‘official supporter’, the car sticker and key rings complete with a beaming ‘Gouden Greg’ on either side, I couldn’t take up the kind offers to join the garden parties and barbecues held in his home village on the day the Ronde van Vlaanderen passed by, the sportives or end of season dinners with our hero present.
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Like Van Avermaet’s, most European fan clubs tend to be rooted in the rider’s place of origin or residence. In Belgium, this often extends to bars becoming nominal HQs for the clubs, with the rider also putting their name to ‘out of competition’ sportives and personal appearances. It’s organic, local and in most cases, deeply familial and personal.
This was further driven home when, despite thinking I might stand a better chance with the Pippo Ganna fan club due to my rudimentary grasp of Italian, the same ‘problems’ occurred. The Italians were similarly charming, full of fun and very welcoming. They even had their own Castelli kit, complete with Ganna’s signature wild boar cartoon emblazoned on the back. Whether it was a sub-conscious frustration with the fact that they never suggested cheering on the ‘Goofball’ senza pantaloni, I don’t know but I allowed my membership to lapse.
“Fanboy fever will soon grip me”
With the Giro just days away, I sense renewed fanboy fever will soon grip me. But who to support? What should be the qualifying criteria? What qualities – beyond winning, or indeed losing – should make fans choose a particular individual? Lovely hair? A knowledge of viticulture? Or that they can quote Cartesian theory? What do we project onto them or indeed, see of them in ourselves?
I’m already something of a Tadej Pogačar fan; as much for who he seems to be off the bike, as what he does on it. Plus, he rides a Colnago. However, that feels a little too obvious.
Given my past travails as a wannabe superfan, maybe I should do what the MVDP crew did and pick a local talent, enjoying the journey as they (hopefully) progress up the ladder. It could also be a valuable way of helping a youngster develop, by creating fun, social events to generate funds, give moral support by the roadside and experience all the inherent emotions that only sport can bring. So long as everyone remains fully clothed.
