It’s been a little over three weeks since Rui Costa first pulled on the rainbow jersey and just as long since my last posting. Still, I’d like to return to the World Championships in Florence one last time for a few final thoughts.
Coming from a sporting mad family, I’ve been to two different Olympics, the last three Rugby World Cups, numerous baseball games, including World Series match ups and several playoff games, and of course multiple stages of all three cycling Grand Tours this year, in addition to a handful of other races in Europe and North America. So please keep my spectating resume in mind when I say that the Cycling World Championships in Florence this year was the worst organized major sporting event I’ve ever been to.
Atmosphere
In a word, there was none. Sure, there were posters across the city and lots of stores incorporated bicycles into their window displays, but that was it. The average tourist would be forgiven for failing to notice either of these. Nowhere in Florence did I come across anything colorful, large, unique, or remotely attention-grabbing that related to this important week of racing.
Tickets
For the brave non-Italian speakers who persevered through the litany of links to buy tickets (suddenly Ticket Master doesn’t seem so bad–frightening, I know), the one and only ticket collection point was a 30-40 minute walk outside of town and a good mile away from the seats themselves.
Volunteers
I don’t know what kind of training the volunteers received, but those who I saw rarely seemed to be focused on their assigned duties. Instead, I frequently saw them socializing with spectators and allowing pedestrians to slowly amble across the street as cyclists riding full gas approached.
With all of these deficits and then some, you’d think no one had ever put on a multi day cycling event in Italy before. I met two people who worked for different national cycling federations and they both said all they had learned from watching Florence host the Worlds was what not to do.
Despite so many shortcomings which royally ticked me off as a devoted fan of both cycling and logistics, the incredible racing made it worthwhile. It was my humble privilege to witness moments like Christian Vande Velde in his last race ever; the narrow margin of victory for Omega Pharma-Quick Step in the TTT; meeting the family of Zeke Mostov, the up and coming junior American rider; Taylor Phinney recognizing me after he placed fifth in the ITT; cheering for Uzbek riders; seeing the enormous joy on Rui Costa’s face as he adjusted the sleeves on his rainbow jersey for the first time; and watching hundreds of athletes from around the globe fight to realize their cycling dreams.
Florence may have dropped the ball, but the peloton made sure that I spent a memorable week doing what I love: watching cycling. Grazie.