“A Sunday in Hell”: De Vlaeminck looks for early showdown

The air is filled with the sound of team cars honking their Euro horns: “Bee baw bee baw bee baw!!!!” (Or is it: “Hee haw hee haw!!!) We’re treated to a wonderful arial shot of Roger De Vlaeminck driving the train, with Francesco Moser, Marc Demeyer and Hennie Kuiper on his wheel.

Welcome to our latest installment of “A Sunday in Hell.” For more than a year, we’ve been breaking down the fantastic documentary, sometimes frame by frame. Finally, we’ve reached the final kilometers of the 1976 Paris-Roubaix classic. It looks like the final contenders will be Flemish hardman De Vlaeminck, Italian superstar Moser, Belgian up-and-comer Demeyer and Dutchman Hennie Kuiper, proudly wearing the rainbow jersey.

“Kuiper is always in the rear. Is he tired or is he waiting for a chance to get a jump on the others?” the narrator says as the camera provides a profile shot of the riders hammering through a village. “That’s his speciality and that’s how he, a little unexpectedly, became the world champion last year.”

The rest of the way is all asphalt, no more punishing cobbles. The smooth roads will make it hard for the chasing pack with Eddy Merckx to catch up.  We see a great rear shot of Moser’s Sanson team car, with three bikes on a rack over the rear boot or trunk. A mechanic is hanging off the roof of the car, carrying a spare bike on his shoulder in case Moser is cursed with a mechanical and needs a fast swap.

“On the final miles, DeVlaeminck again keeps the pressure on,” the narrator says. “His pacemaking is tough and exhausting. It looks as if he’s trying to force an early showdown. By continuing his attacks, he’s hoping to drain the power from his three companions.”

Often in bike races, the athlete who works the hardest and deserves to win gets defeated. It’s one of the best examples of how our beautiful sport reflects life. By joining the race and competing with all our strength – physical, emotional and mental – we are often blessed with glory. But we’re also forced to cope with the other cruel outcome – defeat. That’s the way it goes in life in general. It’s these situations that bike racing prepares us so well for. It brings us immense happiness and satisfaction. But it also hardens us for the unpleasant possibilities. Still, we get back on the bike and ride again, hoping for new glory.

“A Sunday in Hell”: Hanging or being crafty?

The Eurovision TV cameraman is sitting on the back of a motorbike that’s roaring along  just behind the lead group of four riders in Paris-Roubaix in 1976. The race is being televised live now with only about an hour left. It must have been thrilling to listen to the early part of the race on the radio, then see the battle explode into images on TV just as the racing really gets heated.

Welcome back to our weekly series that takes a look at a scene or two from one of the world’s best cycling documentaries, “A Sunday in Hell.” Last week, we left off with Eddy Merckx inexplicably missing the most crucial break in the race. Roger De Vlaeminck was able to slip away with Francesco Moser, Marc Demeyer and Hennie Kuiper, wearing the world champion’s rainbow jersey.

This week, we pick up the race with a view of the back of the Eurovision cameraman’s red jacket as he follows the lead group on motorbike. “The live transmission has begun,” the narrator says. “And we’re into the final hour of Hell.”

We leave the race momentarily and find ourselves in a Eurovision studio, where three TV producers babble away in French as they watch the race shown on several small monitors mounted to the wall.

The camera moves back to the race and we’re shown the riders and their team cars tearing across the last stretch of pave. They kick up so much dirt and dust that it is hard to see the screaming fans lining the “road.” Despite all the flying debris, none of the riders wear sunglasses or any other form of eye protection. Nor do they have bike computers or race radios. It was a time when you raced by feeling.

The narrator counts how much time the leaders have on the chasers: “…10 seconds…15…20…25…30…35…40…45……….and here comes Merckx, Godefroot and the others. … More than a minute behind De Vlaeminck and the others.”

He adds, “Some of the worst pave lies close to Roubaix, and on these mishapen roads and amid these dust clouds, a lot can happen.”

Moser leads around a sharp corner and almost goes off the road as he dodges a race motorcyle that’s stuck in a ditch.  After the four leaders clear the tricky turn, a pack of race motorcycles panic and gets jammed up as they try to negotiate the turn. There’s chaos as team cars race up to the spot and then slam on their breaks and wait for the motorcycles to untangle themselves. The fans lining the road start going nuts and yell at the motorbikes as a couple gendarmes start blowing their whistles, trying to restore order and unclog the road.

 Just as the meyhem gets sorted out, the human locomotive Merckx pulls his train around the corner. “Now there are only 12 men in Merckx’s group,” the narrator says. “The rest are scattered in the dust.”

There’s an aerial shot of De Vlaeminck at the front of his group. The narrator explains that De Vlaeminck and Moser are doing all the work while Demeyer and Kuiper draft on them.

“Neither Demeyer or Kuiper take the lead. They are just hanging on or are they being crafty and saving their strength?” he says. “Demeyer glues himself to De Vlaeminck’s rear wheel. He’s been in that position since the start of the breakaway. He’s still marking De Vlaeminck. In so doing, he’s furthering the war that Maertens and De Vlaeminck are waging against each other.”