Finally, the photo that Paris most wanted was taken, the one that seemed impossible: dozens of happy athletes swimming in the waters of its Seine watched over by the golden statues of the Pont Alexandre III. It turned out better than they even expected, because it ended up filling the big screen, gold, a Frenchwoman, Cassandra Beaugrand, the most desired, Olympic champion at 27 years old. Hours later, her compatriot Leo Bergère added the men’s bronze to the tally: 20 medals for a fabulous France in five days of Games, six of them gold. The gold among the men went to the great Alex Yee, a 26-year-old Briton, who came, like Mario Mola in the past, from athletics to triathlon and already a silver medallist at Tokyo 2020.
Perhaps taking pity on the many hours and efforts of so many athletes and workers who gave their souls to make triathlon also have its festival in Paris, at 3.20 in the morning, under the deluge, the goddess Seine finally lowered her arms, calmed down, lowered her levels of escherichia coli and enterococci and allowed her waters to be invaded by the determined swimmers. At eight o’clock they launched themselves into the water under the Pont Alexandre III to do two round trips, 1,500 meters, past the Pont des Invalides. Following the guidance of the magnificent Flora Duffy, 37 years old, the mother and reference for all, and always looking for the banks on the way back, where the current was least opposed to their strokes, some of the athletes discovered that perhaps they lost more time climbing the dozens of stone steps from the water to the bridge, where the bicycles were waiting for them, than what they had gained by swimming.
Thousands of people had been sitting on the bleachers on the docks since before dawn. The water was at 21.2 degrees; the air was at 21 degrees at seven o’clock, and it was getting warmer as the sun rose on the horizon. It was 31 degrees and humid at 10.45 when the men set out. No wetsuits. Just swimming trunks.
Then, on the bike – seven laps of a circuit through the most chic of Paris, Montaigne and his Louis Vuitton, the Champs Elysees that the Tour bikes did not see, FD Roosevelt… – everyone knew that Zeus, god of thunder, lightning and storms, was, as always, angry. It had stopped raining, but the water on the asphalt proved to be more dangerous to health than a mouthful of river dirt, and more decisive for the result. Every curve was a tragedy, every zebra crossing, every touch of the brakes. Falls punctuated the 40 kilometres of cycling. Duffy, the Olympic champion in Tokyo, always in front. First, alone, then in a group of nine, the best, on the wheel of the Dutch Maya Kingma and the Swiss Julie Derron, controlling and recovering. The Spanish, behind. Anna Godoy, in the main peloton, just over a minute behind; Miriam Casillas, fighting with falls in the queue.
With Derron ahead, on foot, a quartet formed. Beaugrand, another Frenchwoman, the young Emma Lombardi, and the British Beth Potter. Duffy, far behind. The gold was decided in the last of the four laps. An irresistible change of pace. Unstoppable towards glory, towards the big photo. Second, Derron; third, Potter.
In the thick Seine, the men boxed next to the buoys, and Malaga’s Alberto González, sixth, with the best. Zeus, his thirst for revenge satisfied, dried the asphalt and the cobblestones. A platoon of 32. Almost all, but only one Spaniard, González, who is trained by his father and almost lives in Sierra Nevada. Neither Roberto Sánchez nor Antonio Serrat, too far behind in a water that for most had only been a bad experience, now over. A test of fatigue. Everything began again. All, thinking of spending as little as possible, sharpening the knife, their heads in the 10,000m.
They are all there: the champion in Tokyo, the Norwegian Kristian Blummenfelt; the Portuguese Vasco Vilaça from Amadora; the Frenchman Leo Bergére, his friend Pierre le Corre, a great nickname; the British Sam Dickinson, an extraordinary gregarious for Alex Yee, the phenomenon from athletics who has run the 10,000m in under 28 minutes… And with them the audacious man from Malaga.
The transition! The key. Dickinson launches his last sprint for Yee, who doesn’t think any more and accelerates. Alberto González comes out well, fifth, accelerates and dies. He went to the end of his strength. His energy ran out, but not his faith, as Yee did shortly afterwards, silver in Tokyo, who, patiently and surely, is overtaken by New Zealander Hayden Wilde, bronze at the Japanese Games. It is the moment of revenge for the triathlete from the antipodes, who leaves Yee nailed, and sprints, believing himself unreachable, towards gold. The New Zealander, who is advised in swimming by Fred Vergnoux, Mireia Belmonte’s coach, blindly trusts in his speed, not in vain did he clock a 13.23 just before in the 5,000m at the athletics meeting in Huelva.
He did not expect Yee’s resurrection, who in an incredible final stretch, took 20 metres from him in no time, and overtook him almost as they reached the blue carpet of the beautiful bridge, which welcomed him as champion. Bronze for Bergère, the first podium for French men’s triathlon in its history. González also recovered, overtook more aggressive triathletes, and finished eighth, finalist. And he certainly agrees with his physiotherapist, José Antonio Bodoque, a Leganés fan, who already proclaimed: it will be very difficult to do a good triathlon in Paris, but it seemed even more difficult for Leganés to be promoted to First Division.
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