Men who would be giants...

(from Sunday morning, since I didn't have Internet access until now...here it is)

I'm in Davis, California. It's pouring rain but the cyclists are still getting ready to ride. They never cancel a race, no matter what. So the rain is coming down, I decide to look for Sastre since everyone seems to be transfixed on Landis, Armstrong, Levi, & Hincapie. I'm outside Cervelo's Team trailer when I catch a glimpse of Sastre. I'm a little embarrassed because at the moment I've got on a huge navy blue poncho on, looking like a tent as its covering my backpack and me from the rain. I yell anyway, "Carlos!" He looks up and tells the mechanic going into the trailer to wait, gesturing to keep the door open...looking to me..."Carlos, do you mind signing this?" SHIT! The jersey that I have ready to sign is stuck under the poncho as I'm trying to find the opening to show him. He asks the mechanic to get it for him..."Thank you!" I tell him, as the door shuts. A minute later, the door opens again, as a man steps down to bring me the jersey, I look into the bus and Sastre is watching, making sure I get it back and waves to me..."Gracias Carlos!" A soft spoken man, he steps down from the bus and looks for his bike to head towards the starting line. "Buena Suerte, Carlos" I tell him, as he looks at me, nodding his head in thanks and smiles.

Later the next day, I'm walking through the hotel back to my car. It so happens that I had parked in the team hotels' parking lot without realizing it. I'm in Modesto, getting ready to leave for Merced. It's been a very long, wet, and cold day waiting for the guys to come in. I had been outside in the rain again watching the Cervelo team mechanics get Thor Huschovd's bike ready for the next day. Freezing, I decided to walk through the hotel to the garage to warm up a bit. I'm heading for the door as I look up and see Sastre walking towards me. I'm surprised, there are tour staff all around us chit chatting so I don't want to bother him for a picture, or be rude but it's a little awkward. It seems he's surprised that I recognize him, or perhaps he remembers me from the other day, but why should he be surprised that I know who he is? Is it due to Lance fever here in the States? Who knows but he seems embarrassed or shy or something I can't quite figure out. I hope I'm not making him uncomfortable, so a few awkward moments and I simple tell him..."Good job today, buenas noches." He smiles and waves goodnight to me.

I'm so intrigued by these men. It's as if they're shy of their own fame. I meet Cavindish the following day in Clovis after he narrowly beats out Boonen. Same thing happens, I called out to him to ask for his autograph as he's heading into a building for the press conference. He stops abruptly and gestures for me to come over. He waits for me, signs my magazine as I thank him and congratulate him on his win. "Sure thing, thank you very much" smiles at me and is gone. Oddly intriguing, these giants of their sport and heroes to thousands, yet so fragile and humble in person. You begin to feel ashamed when you try to compare them to other professional athletes in American football or baseball, of which there is no comparison. In cycling, there is no separation from the athletes and the spectators, no outrageous ticket prices to pay to see them create history. Yet they are so humble, some of the lowest paid professional athletes in the world, while they endure double what say a football player would endure on his worst day. Whatever it is I'm completely fascinated and inspired by their dedication and sacrifice they give day in and day out for a sport that is so brutal and unforgiving in return.

Rebecca Reza
from Stage 1, of the 2009 Amgen Tour of California