Earlier in the year, Cycling Tips posted an interesting post about how to get a cycling sponsorship. I read this blog because it makes me feel like a proper cyclist, although I do not particularly think that these posts are actually written with me in mind. I just like helmets and quite enjoy the pre-race build up for the major classics and the tours etc. It makes it less confusing when Phil is talking about something if I have read Wade’s posts in advance. He likes professional cycling an awful lot, and I like professional cycling sort of enough. And he has nice photos which I often re-post. He writes well, but again, I’m not the audience in mind.
So, with regards to sponsorship, I did not really hold much weight in the information contained within. Mainly because I am not looking to be sponsored, and the whole ordeal is clearly targeted at people who are good enough at riding to warrant this.
But I was joking, or maybe he was joking, this morning with Andrew Demack from Bicycle Queensland about his Epic Cycles jersey, some sort of off hand, sponsored rider kind of giggle (note, he is not officially “sponsored”), like hahaha jersey sponsor you Epic etc. Purple is, after all, everyone’s colour.
But it set me to thinking, about the other meanings of the word “sponsor” and I hope at least for Easter that people will forgive me my introspective bent. In Filipino-Catholic land (that strange, quiet country from which one never returns), it is very important to have a sponsor at your baptism. These are people who answer for the infant (because clearly you cannot talk at this stage) and they kind of pledge to assume responsibility for your spiritual upbringing. And more broadly, a “sponsor” is so much more than just someone or some company providing the finances to advertise a product on you while you do sport – it is also used to describe a person who will vouch for you, who will, on the basis of their esteem for you and your good character stake their name on your name.
So, in effect, Andrew is – for my idiosyncratic categories at least – a sponsored rider. For he came with the highest recommendations, considered and salutary remarks from a person whose opinion I believe to be sound and measured which said to me at least, that this was a rider of regard. For those of you with access to Google, you may discover that Andrew is an active member of the Queensland cycling community. He is 35th most winning of men of a certain age in some riding. You may continue to search these things and learn more about cycling, advocacy, Bicycle Queensland and the local view of life between the road, the coffee shop and the greater journey.
But what of his helmet? Catlike. Meow. All good. You know how I feel about such things. Let us not get off message.
Making this morning’s ride for me was kind of hard because, in a bout of bad mood, I had gone for a long ride (for me anyway) the night before with the sponsors. The Mexican helped/didn’t help, I had major light envy (but piggy backed off the Kind Katherine for lighting support) and almost found night rhythm enough to recalibrate. But in the end, I didn’t get home til late, I didn’t sleep well, and I felt almost frightened when I pulled up at the BQ headquarters at some hours of early. It was very early. And his bike had gears.
Being an internet superstar, I obviously need to get my beauty sleep.*
What followed for the next couple of hours after that is kind of hard to describe. I mean, at one level, nothing much out of the ordinary went on. Andrew and I went for a ride, covering some of the same territory as last night (both conversationally and literally) and then we had a coffee. Just two lyrca buddies out for a good time.
Yet at the same time, what was also happening, was something different and lovely and purposeful. I don’t think that is very fair or even very possible to describe the mass of eclectic, banal, civic, important, educational, philosophical, personal, quiet, casual, and unrelated topics covered/half-covered in this morning’s ride.
There were some interesting counterpoints to last night’s ride – not least of all to actually see the scenery that I had only guessed at in the previous evening’s cool, torch-lit arrangements.
Last night was last night. The was a huge, rabbit-filled moon.
And this morning was this morning.
Both were wonderful rides – but as is the inevitable feeling with riding at night, there was a coolness of perspective, a darkness of mood, and a quiet of thinking.
This morning, however, was the day. And sometimes, when you are up at daybreak and riding with a person that you do not know so very well, there is a lot going on. There is an explosion of colour, a panoply of thoughts, and lots of surprises.
It’s weird for me to feel lost for words, but I am right now. It’s why there’s so much run up in this post, and so little leap. Despite being an almighty chatterbox, I do occasionally feel struck by things and then thoughts.
Riding this morning with Andrew has made me feel rather quiet.
This may sound like damning with faint praise, but it’s quite the opposite.
I’ll just say one thing. If I one day have kids, and one of those kids turns out to be a boy, and then grows up to be a man, and that man is half as thoughtful and warm, with some measure of the genuine integrity that I felt from meeting Andrew in even such a short ride’s worth of time, then I would be very proud to meet that man who is a bit like Andrew who may be my son in some imaginary world in some other time.
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Happy Easter cats. See you tomorrow at the Alley? I hear that Zoe is coming…
*Nice work Andy.
