“Paul, Paul, have you got a few minutes? Please, Paul, just a quick word.”
The huddle of cyclists surround the journalist Paul Kimmage as he makes his way across the hotel lobby. We’ve all just completed stage 17 of the Tour de France. A gruelling 220 kilometres over four Alpine climbs. But our work for the day is only half done. Now it’s our job to go and try and give as many interviews as possible to maximise exposure for our sponsors.
“Paul, please, we’ve been waiting here for nearly two hours.”
It can be a wearying process, trying to get hold of a journalist who will sit down to interview you. They don’t always want to speak to the riders. They’ve had an even longer day than us and mostly, after the stage, they just want to be left alone to get their heads right for the following day, where another testing time in the rental car awaits.
As Kimmage disappears into the hotel bar, a handler from his newspaper emerges and says: “Sorry lads, Paul won’t be doing any interviews during this Tour. He’s sick of writing about doping. And all of you lot. He’s not interested in any answers you might have to his questions and invites you all to shove your answers up your arses.”
Not what the riders present were hoping for. We all have pressure from our teams to get interviewed and when journalists blank us like this, it makes life very difficult. It’s an unorthodox move for a journalist not to ask us any questions. But apparently Kimmage is working on a book, so I can appreciate he needs to make these selfish decisions to keep on top of his game.
Most of the mini-peloton assembled in the lobby disperses. They didn’t get Kimmage to speak to them, but most of them probably had been asked a few mundane questions directly after the stage. An interview in one of the Sunday papers is considered a real result, especially during the Tour. But a lot of the time most riders have to settle for a website or a podcast.
I’m one of the few riders who has stayed behind in the hotel lobby. I haven’t been spoken to by any journalists yet, not even a one-liner for a more general piece about the stage. I can’t leave empty-handed, so I stay put, take a seat next to reception and hope to grab another journalist as they walk past.
I’ve had a bad year. I’ve only had two articles about me in minor online publications since the season began. A few years ago I made it into a Pro Cycling magazine mini-feature and had an…