Imagine you are organising your wedding.
You are Brad and Angelina, Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis, Gavin and Stacey. Everyone is dee-bloody-lighted that you are tying the knot. You are the perfect couple.
You hire the best venue – the Taj Mahal / Playboy Mansion / Disneyland / Wetherspoons, whatever.
You get the most romper-stomper, kick-ass skankin’ wedding band money can buy, cast iron guaranteed to get granny flashing her knickers and head-butting the vicar.
You lay on a free bar, Heston Blumenthal does the catering, hot and cold running prostitutes, a class-A drug fountain….
…and still all the guests sit round with faces like slapped arses, determined to have a miserable time and be in bed by ten o’clock. See where I am going with this?
The list of event organisers’ responsibilities, as kindly supplied by the sloping shoulders department at British Cycling, is long but distinguished, and expensive. But the event, and the sport, needs all involved to take responsibility for making these weekends into the cross-country carnival they could be.
Newnham is going to be our final roll of the National XC dice, so here’s how you can raise the roof down in Devon –
To help you plan your noise making journey, here's a spectator map of the course.
There is a worrying trend for course practice at the National XC to follow the following format –
For Round Two, you have options. If you choose not to take any of them, fill your boots but don’t bleat about the queues afterwards. Your options are –
The organisers have enough to do without chasing riders off the course when they aren’t supposed to be there. It’s boring, it’s always the same people, and you aren’t insured to be out there so play by the rules like everyone else.
Gratuitous attempt to get a Tank Girl picture into a blog? Who, me?