Rik Van Steenbergen of Belgium, seen here in the 1955 Tour of Flanders, and Fausto Coppi were the chalk and cheese of 1950s cycling. While Coppi’s legs coaxed the pedals around, powered by some invisible force; Van Steenbergen’s power was obvious and brutal. Van Steenbergen looked like a boxer on a bike with strength and torque that flattened the cobbles. Coppi just floated over them.
It was strange to see them together in a breakaway towards the end of Paris-Roubaix in 1952. Van Steenbergen could sprint, so Coppi had to drop him, and Coppi had hardly ever been restrained once he attacked. The Belgian rider had a tough job on his hands, Coppi ran him ragged. He attacked time after time, but Van Steenbergen held on.
The respect between them was huge. Van Steenbergen said he’d never suffered like it in his life. Holding Coppi took everything he’d got, but he did it. When Van Steenbergen hauled Coppi back a final time the Italian knew he’d run out of opportunities. The finish line was close, and Coppi patted Van Steenbergen on the back, nodded at him, and said, “You win.”
He still made a show of it, Coppi wouldn’t deprive Van Steenbergen of the glory of winning a final fight. He tried, he went for a long one, but resistance was futile. Van Steenbergen blew right by, exhausted but delighted to have beaten the Champion of Champions. They were minutes ahead of the rest…
