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Tour de Baghdad
By: Seb Walker
Published date: 31/8/2003
One of the more bizarre sights to be seen on Baghdad’s streets is men in Day-Glo Lycra pounding along the highway on racing cycles in the mid-morning sun. With the searing heat, the heavily potholed city roads, and the complete absence of road law; one might be forgiven for thinking these guys had spent slightly too long in the sun.
But it turns out that cycling is an unexpectedly popular sport, which the ministry of Youth and Sport has on its list for regeneration.
“We have many cyclists here,” said Abdul Razzaq, Deputy Minister of Sport. “Until now, the curve has been down - there were no official cycling associations. But new equipment is planned and we hope to establish a special area in Baghdad for cycling by 2004 with indoor and outdoor facilities.”
But how much talent is really out there? It must be quite an amateur set-up, given all the obstacles one would have to face as an aspiring Lance Armstrong in Iraq. The minister agreed to arrange a showdown, and this hapless reporter was given the task of putting the riders at one of the top clubs in the country through their paces.
The race didn’t start too well –– lining up at the starting block in jeans and leather shoes, I was confronted by the entire team of Al-Sinaa club in full battle-dress. They certainly looked the part, although coach Dhiya Al-Din Abbas claims the team has been handicapped since their locker room was looted just after the war.
“Everything got stolen by the looters, including spare parts for the bikes,” said Abbas. “We used to have 40 of these Bianchi (Italian-made) cycles which are worth about $1600 each. We found many of them on sale again at the local black market for $50. They raised the price to $300 when they found out that the bikes had been used by members of the national team, saying ‘This is our share of the oil!’”
After some deliberation, it was decided that just one circuit of the Martyr’s Monument would be enough. I feigned disappointment, but stressed that I wouldn’t want to tinker with their training schedules. So the pack moved off toward the three-lane motorway which serves as the club’s practice area; this writer wobbling along at the rear.
Negotiating Baghdad traffic in a vehicle made from reinforced steel is a frightening enough experience –– on a bicycle, you are truly at the mercy of the unpredictable taxis and battered lorries thundering along the tarmac. As I struggled to keep pace, it quickly ceased to be a matter of who would come first and instead became one of self-survival.
In the event, I was flanked almost the whole way on either side by the top two riders at the club, Aziz Abdul Kerim and Yasir Dhiya Al-Din. Kerim, 21, competes for the national team and won the silver medal at the national championships in 2002. His ambition is to take part in the Tour de France, but he’s not optimistic of his chances.
“Cycling is my favorite sport and I would like to make a career out of it,” he said. “But this will only happen if I manage to leave Iraq.”
The financial rewards of success here are not enough to sustain a living –– you get about $25 for doing well in the national championships.
Al-Din has been a cyclist for 13 years, which might have something to do with the fact that his father is the club coach. He is also convinced he needs to leave Iraq to find a better cycling environment.
“You get used to the heat,” he said. “But I’ve never raced indoors –– and the roads here are not safe.”
I empathized heartily as I bounced into another pothole, desperately trying to keep balance as a six-vehicle US military convoy roared past, the soldiers whooping at the sight of men in tight shorts.
When the finish line came into view, I toyed with the idea of making a surprise breakaway for a sprint finish. But looking around at the barely-perspiring professionals with legs carved from wood who had accompanied me at snail’s pace around the course, I thought better of it. Next time, I threatened, I’ll bring a pair of shorts with me –– then you’ll see something.
“Great,” said coach Abbas with a smile. “We’re here everyday at 8 am for three hours of training. You’re very welcome.”
Published date: 31/8/2003
Author: Seb Walker
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