A few years ago, I had a few pound left over at the end of the month. I decided to treat myself to a new set of wheels for my bike. Nothing fancy, but they were new and the experts say the best upgrade you can make, is wheels.
They got their maiden voyage on a Sunday morning in biblical rain. It was a local route from our hometown of Cahir, to Ballylooby, Clogheen. Ballyporeen, out to the millionaires and home.
My partner that morning wasn’t having the best of days. That happens in every sport, when the body is willing, but the head isn’t. As we passed the hotel at Kilcoran, he was about 50 yards behind me, struggling and looking forward to a shower, dry clothes and a latte.
Suddenly, there was a “whoosh” sound and shouts of “How’s it going” as a large group passed me. It was the Carrick lads, heading for home. They still had about 40 km to go, but they were flying along and as is the usual, they were loving the conditions. In fact they were reveling in them.
“Why didn’t you jump on with them?” my friend asked, admitting that he was now officially “f*cked”.
“Ah will you give over. Those lads are too good for me. Anyway, we head out together, we come home together”.
Meeting the Carrick crowd is a regular occurrence on the roads and it’s not uncommon to see Sean Kelly and Sam Bennett in their ranks. There’s no bullshit in that group, no place for egos or notions. In that group, they are just two of the lads.
That principle applies to Carrick as a whole. It’s a sports mad town and they have produced a few musicians as well. I’ve played many gigs in Carrick and I’ve made friends for life down there. There’s an old saying, “if you do well in Carrick, you’ll do well any place”.
It’s a tough town, but they would give their lives for you and I like it down there. Sam Bennett is from Carrick and he has just created history, taking home the green jersey from the Tour De France. He has given the cycling community and Irish sports fans one hell of a lift over the three weeks this year.
It’s been a horrible year, with a pandemic, lock downs and uncertainly about our futures. As usual, our sportspeople bring us that bit of hope and pride as a small nation.
When he stood on the podium wearing that jersey, having won that final stage, I’m convinced he could hear the roar from Carrick.
In a few weeks, he’ll be home and he’ll be with that cycling group on a Sunday morning as they travel the roads of Tipperary and Waterford. There will still be the shouts of “how’s it going” to lads, as they pass.
How many sports can will that happen in? Very few. We’re lucky to have cycling as our sport and even luckier to have sportspeople like Sam.
The Unknown Bike Rider 
You must be logged in to post a comment.