Brutta cosa, mi ha lasciato parecchio sconvolto. Fortuna non ci sono immagini della sua caduta.
News RIP Gino Mäder
- Creatore Discussione BDC-MAG.COM
- Data di inizio
Non so se la discesa fosse pericolosa, e non è questo il momento per fare polemica, voglio solo raccontare la mia impressione.
La tappa era 211 km e aveva 4700 m di DSL+ quindi ci può stare che si fosse stanchi, anche per le tappe precedenti.
Comunque, vedere Ayuso che scendeva con le mani sui comandi quando la velocità della moto segnava 103 km/h - e circa 80 nelle curve - mi ha ha dato una strana sensazione di timore poiché la velocità era costantemente elevata.
A volte ho l'impressione che si faccia poco e che in passato si faceva più ricorso alle protezioni dei punti ritenuti pericolosi, ma anche che bici così veloci siano un po' al limite, così come le auto, che circolano tutto sommato sulle stesse strade - asfalto a parte - in cui ci passavano le carrozze trainate dai cavalli.
La tappa era 211 km e aveva 4700 m di DSL+ quindi ci può stare che si fosse stanchi, anche per le tappe precedenti.
Comunque, vedere Ayuso che scendeva con le mani sui comandi quando la velocità della moto segnava 103 km/h - e circa 80 nelle curve - mi ha ha dato una strana sensazione di timore poiché la velocità era costantemente elevata.
A volte ho l'impressione che si faccia poco e che in passato si faceva più ricorso alle protezioni dei punti ritenuti pericolosi, ma anche che bici così veloci siano un po' al limite, così come le auto, che circolano tutto sommato sulle stesse strade - asfalto a parte - in cui ci passavano le carrozze trainate dai cavalli.
Non sono discussioni su cui fare polemica ...naturalmente nasce la necessita' di contestualizzare, valutare , capire , magari esorcizzare ; purtroppo il discorso della pericolosita' esiste da sempre e sempre esistera'....io non darei neanche troppo la colpa ai mezzi ultramoderni e ultraperformanti : ricordo -correggetemi se sbaglio - negli anni 80 Marcello Osler vinse proprio allo Svizzera un premio per la discesa piu' veloce , intorno ai 110 kmh ; conosco Marcello , io ero ragazzino : testa oltre la ruota anteriore , sedere altezza attacco manubrio ....una roba impressionante !
Che dire , oltre che la fatalita' e' dietro l'angolo : io quando li vedo in certe discese , mi sudano le mani ; chi magari insegue la vittoria della vita , chi magari si sente (anche troppo ) padrone del mezzo ...difficile commentare , spesso ogni incidente ha una sua dinamica e tutto va valutato caso per caso ...e comunque purtroppo una cosa li accomuna : sempre la solita immensa , travolgente tristezza ....
Che dire , oltre che la fatalita' e' dietro l'angolo : io quando li vedo in certe discese , mi sudano le mani ; chi magari insegue la vittoria della vita , chi magari si sente (anche troppo ) padrone del mezzo ...difficile commentare , spesso ogni incidente ha una sua dinamica e tutto va valutato caso per caso ...e comunque purtroppo una cosa li accomuna : sempre la solita immensa , travolgente tristezza ....
Ed oggi è quasi toccato a Zana. Non so se avete visto ma ad un paio di metri da dove è atterrato con la capriola in aria, c'era un gruppo di rocce.
Senza contare i cavalli che se gli andava addosso un bel calcio se lo prendeva.
Non voglio dire nulla ma... discesa e poi arrivo. L'esempio della Sanremo è perfetto, ma questo che significa? Che siccome finora è andato tutto bene allora non c'è pericolo? La sanremo la odio proprio per il suo percorso, e vabbè è una cosa mia, però mi pare che si stia esagerando con certi percorsi.
Come dire... fumo che tanto l'aria è inquinata. Ok e quindi oltre all'inquinamento ti becchi anche il fumo? "Le corse sono di per se' pericolose, tanto vale" è una cosa che non deve esistere. Stiamo piangendo un ragazzo che per un insieme di concause (discesa con arrivo, freni a disco e copertoni larghi, come ha detto qualcuno poco fa, mani sulle appendici dei freni ecc) che vanno analizzate con mente fredda e risolte, a costo di tornare al passato (per i freni intendo, semmai c'entrassero).
Senza contare i cavalli che se gli andava addosso un bel calcio se lo prendeva.
Non voglio dire nulla ma... discesa e poi arrivo. L'esempio della Sanremo è perfetto, ma questo che significa? Che siccome finora è andato tutto bene allora non c'è pericolo? La sanremo la odio proprio per il suo percorso, e vabbè è una cosa mia, però mi pare che si stia esagerando con certi percorsi.
Come dire... fumo che tanto l'aria è inquinata. Ok e quindi oltre all'inquinamento ti becchi anche il fumo? "Le corse sono di per se' pericolose, tanto vale" è una cosa che non deve esistere. Stiamo piangendo un ragazzo che per un insieme di concause (discesa con arrivo, freni a disco e copertoni larghi, come ha detto qualcuno poco fa, mani sulle appendici dei freni ecc) che vanno analizzate con mente fredda e risolte, a costo di tornare al passato (per i freni intendo, semmai c'entrassero).
Non penso fossero rocce ma una ceppaia di una pianta tagliata…cambia poco comunque se ci finiva sopra erano guai seri…e ho sentiito Gregorio e Magrini in cronaca sminuire la caduta di Zana paragonata a quella di Mader…x me sono state simili, forse solo a velocitá diverse, ed è un mezzo miracolo che Filippo nn si sia fatto praticamente niente…certo che un pelo di attenzione in più, li ci erano gia passati ill giro prima ed erano caduti in parecchi, tra i quali il vincitore della tappa.
Si ho letto che ci sono i dati della telemetria di Sheffield (caduto con Mader) che trasmetteva direttamente all'ammiraglia: hanno rilevato 94.6 Km/h al momento della caduta.
non solo velocità diverse, ma anche l'orografia, il povero Gino ha trovato il burrone, Zana un prato in pendenza
Guarda, come la giri puzza, sono gare e ci sono le discese. Il pericolo c'è per definizione. Anche se metti discese lontano da arrivo ci sarà sempre una fuga che per prendere vantaggio rischierà in discesa. C'è chi ci ha costruito una carriera sul suo essere discesista. Savoldelli, Nibali e altri. Credo fossero consapevoli del rischio. Non credo sia un aspetto gestibile a meno che qualcuno tira fuori qualche ritrovato tecnologico o modalita per gestire meglio tratti pericolosi.
Non lo so, ma non ritrovo l'articolo dove ho letto la notizia (era una notifica di google).Non è vietato dal regolamento trasmettere i dati all’ammiraglia?
Altrove parlano semplicemente di velocità registrata dal ciclocomputer:
purtroppo non sappiamo la dinamica e penso solo chi c’era potrà chiarirla. ma temo sia stato uno di quei casi in cui la vita sa essere molto crudele e la sfiga ci vede benissimo.
però le discese hanno sempre fatto parte dello sport, e questa cosa non si può cambiare: in tantissimi sono caduti prima di gino e molti ci sono rimasti. e a dirla tutta, questa non mi sembrava la più pericolosa: il fondo stradale era ottimo, la strada larga e asciutta.
non so quanto il fatto che fosse appena prima del traguardo abbia a che fare con quanto è successo. per dire, l’anno scorso abbiamo visto pidcock venire giù dal galibier come un pazzo, e l’abbiamo celebrato per il suo coraggio e il talento fuori dal comune. quella strada l’ho vista e fa paura, soprattutto il tratto dalla cima al lautaret, che avevano fatto il giorno prima: il fondo stradale era piuttosto irregolare, e c’erano scarpate ovunque. una traiettoria sbagliata, e mi avrebbero recuperato dopo qualche giorno.
dispiace immensamente per gino e i suoi cari, che la terra gli sia lieve.
però le discese hanno sempre fatto parte dello sport, e questa cosa non si può cambiare: in tantissimi sono caduti prima di gino e molti ci sono rimasti. e a dirla tutta, questa non mi sembrava la più pericolosa: il fondo stradale era ottimo, la strada larga e asciutta.
non so quanto il fatto che fosse appena prima del traguardo abbia a che fare con quanto è successo. per dire, l’anno scorso abbiamo visto pidcock venire giù dal galibier come un pazzo, e l’abbiamo celebrato per il suo coraggio e il talento fuori dal comune. quella strada l’ho vista e fa paura, soprattutto il tratto dalla cima al lautaret, che avevano fatto il giorno prima: il fondo stradale era piuttosto irregolare, e c’erano scarpate ovunque. una traiettoria sbagliata, e mi avrebbero recuperato dopo qualche giorno.
dispiace immensamente per gino e i suoi cari, che la terra gli sia lieve.
Dalla newsletter “Derailleur” di Kate Wagner’s :
On Gino Mäder
The first thing you must know about Gino Mäder is that he had unbelievable charisma. He had an air about him that drew everyone in. He had deep, understanding eyes and a rather serious visage mediated by an afro-like shock of curly brown hair that, when I met him for the first time in August of 2021, he had shaved off. The first thing I ever said to Gino Mäder was, “Gino, where’s your hair?” He laughed and said, “I had to do something to help with the heat.”
“Did it help?”
“No,” he joked. After this conversation we spoke every day of that fateful Vuelta, from which Gino Mäder emerged in the white jersey, taking a bow on the podium in Santiago de Compostela. And up until now, we kept in touch, one on one. Of all the cyclists I’ve worked with, he was the one I was by far the closest to. His sudden passing on the same hills from which he was born has left the entire cycling world in shock and pain. Even as I write this I’m not sure what to say.
Gino was a showman, on and off the bike. He had an amazing way of speaking, slow, measured, and theatrical. He was capable of well-timed wryness, but also of deep and total feeling. He was a great storyteller and did amazing impressions of his teammates — who, in his stories, were brought to life in new ways. He wore his heart on his sleeve and it was a big heart, probably too big for cycling. He loved his girlfriend and his dog Pello, a stray found on the streets of Bilbao, and as a result, Gino named Pello after his teammate Pello Bilbao. Gino often teared up when he talked about Pello (the dog) — about how he earned the trust of this cast away animal and in response was met with profound love and loyalty. “He’s just such a good dog, you know?” Gino said, over and over again.
Gino was so viscerally, and often achingly alive. He said of cycling: “When you do something with joy, it shows. The quality is so much higher.” It four in the morning in Europe. It is still impossible to accept that he is gone.
Gino Mäder was born in Flawil, a small village in the east of Switzerland to a family of cyclists. He started cycling in his early teens because his parents were cyclists. His father once wanted to become a professional. He was part of a generation of Swiss cyclists that hadn’t been seen since Cancellara. He was phenomenally talented. He won a stage in the Giro. He won the white jersey in the Vuelta. But he told me that by far his favorite win of his career was in the Tour de Suisse where he was surrounded by the people who loved him. Gino loved Switzerland enormously. He called it, rightly, the most beautiful place in the world. But for him, it was also changing one. He spoke often and with great pain about the disappearance of the glaciers he remembered from his youth, about the joy mixed with a creeping sense of horror gleaned from riding the roads of a landscape changing at an alarming pace.
Like so many of us from our generation, Gino struggled with his place in the world. He struggled with his place in cycling. Even though he loved cycling, he told me in a rest day interview that there was just “so much more than cycling, so many more important things.” He wondered openly if he was wasting his life being a sportsman, if he was being selfish. He used that word. Gino’s world was so much bigger than the small one he’d wound up in.
What struck me the most, however, was that in the world of sports which is inherently bound to ideas of superiority and natural talent, Gino had a powerful distaste for inequality. His life was shaped tremendously by his time riding for Qhubeka-Assos and the charity work done by Qhubeka.
“When you are there at the handover of Qhubeka bikes,” he told me at that same Vuelta, “and you see the joy in children's eyes one day when they receive a simple bike and yet, seven days ago, you got your new race bikes for free with all the best materials, all the fancy carbon stuff. And you're like, hm that's a bit heavy, isn't it? But then you see the joy of a kid who saves an hour every day to go to school and back home and you're like, that's real. That's dedication, that's quality, that's life quality, and you [realize] in comparison, the arrogance. It really changed something in myself as well, gave a purpose to being famous.”
“And why, why should you be famous? You know?” he said with indignation. “There's no reason to be famous. There's no good coming from being famous, except well, you can maybe change the world.”
As early as 2021, Gino considered leaving the sport to work in environmental advocacy. In real time, I watched him weigh that choice with his newfound influence, which he immediately wanted to put towards something bigger than himself. That Vuelta, he raised money for JustDiggit, a charity devoted to rewilding Africa, a place he had gotten to know quite well through his Qhubeka years. Beyond charity, Gino struggled also with the ethical quandaries of a cycling sponsored by bodies who actively harmed the very same earth. He told me, of his work with the environment, “It helps me to cope with it and feel a bit more – in German we say 'im Reinen', which translates to being in the clean with yourself."
I think if I had one word to describe Gino Mäder, it would be brave. He was just so ****ing brave. On the bike, he had panache. He punched way above his weight and took on giants, walking away looking the better man. Everything he ever won he won elegantly, and then, in the exit interview, he would laugh and on the podium he would take a bow. He promised a show and delivered one. He said what he meant, which is a rare quality in human beings. He was brave and brilliant and definitively on the right side of history. He could have been anything. We were lucky to have him in our little world, as a cyclist and as a phenomenal human being.
My entire heart goes out to his loved ones, his family, and anyone who had the profound gift of knowing him. I am so thankful I got to know him too.
On Gino Mäder
The first thing you must know about Gino Mäder is that he had unbelievable charisma. He had an air about him that drew everyone in. He had deep, understanding eyes and a rather serious visage mediated by an afro-like shock of curly brown hair that, when I met him for the first time in August of 2021, he had shaved off. The first thing I ever said to Gino Mäder was, “Gino, where’s your hair?” He laughed and said, “I had to do something to help with the heat.”
“Did it help?”
“No,” he joked. After this conversation we spoke every day of that fateful Vuelta, from which Gino Mäder emerged in the white jersey, taking a bow on the podium in Santiago de Compostela. And up until now, we kept in touch, one on one. Of all the cyclists I’ve worked with, he was the one I was by far the closest to. His sudden passing on the same hills from which he was born has left the entire cycling world in shock and pain. Even as I write this I’m not sure what to say.
Gino was a showman, on and off the bike. He had an amazing way of speaking, slow, measured, and theatrical. He was capable of well-timed wryness, but also of deep and total feeling. He was a great storyteller and did amazing impressions of his teammates — who, in his stories, were brought to life in new ways. He wore his heart on his sleeve and it was a big heart, probably too big for cycling. He loved his girlfriend and his dog Pello, a stray found on the streets of Bilbao, and as a result, Gino named Pello after his teammate Pello Bilbao. Gino often teared up when he talked about Pello (the dog) — about how he earned the trust of this cast away animal and in response was met with profound love and loyalty. “He’s just such a good dog, you know?” Gino said, over and over again.
Gino was so viscerally, and often achingly alive. He said of cycling: “When you do something with joy, it shows. The quality is so much higher.” It four in the morning in Europe. It is still impossible to accept that he is gone.
Gino Mäder was born in Flawil, a small village in the east of Switzerland to a family of cyclists. He started cycling in his early teens because his parents were cyclists. His father once wanted to become a professional. He was part of a generation of Swiss cyclists that hadn’t been seen since Cancellara. He was phenomenally talented. He won a stage in the Giro. He won the white jersey in the Vuelta. But he told me that by far his favorite win of his career was in the Tour de Suisse where he was surrounded by the people who loved him. Gino loved Switzerland enormously. He called it, rightly, the most beautiful place in the world. But for him, it was also changing one. He spoke often and with great pain about the disappearance of the glaciers he remembered from his youth, about the joy mixed with a creeping sense of horror gleaned from riding the roads of a landscape changing at an alarming pace.
Like so many of us from our generation, Gino struggled with his place in the world. He struggled with his place in cycling. Even though he loved cycling, he told me in a rest day interview that there was just “so much more than cycling, so many more important things.” He wondered openly if he was wasting his life being a sportsman, if he was being selfish. He used that word. Gino’s world was so much bigger than the small one he’d wound up in.
What struck me the most, however, was that in the world of sports which is inherently bound to ideas of superiority and natural talent, Gino had a powerful distaste for inequality. His life was shaped tremendously by his time riding for Qhubeka-Assos and the charity work done by Qhubeka.
“When you are there at the handover of Qhubeka bikes,” he told me at that same Vuelta, “and you see the joy in children's eyes one day when they receive a simple bike and yet, seven days ago, you got your new race bikes for free with all the best materials, all the fancy carbon stuff. And you're like, hm that's a bit heavy, isn't it? But then you see the joy of a kid who saves an hour every day to go to school and back home and you're like, that's real. That's dedication, that's quality, that's life quality, and you [realize] in comparison, the arrogance. It really changed something in myself as well, gave a purpose to being famous.”
“And why, why should you be famous? You know?” he said with indignation. “There's no reason to be famous. There's no good coming from being famous, except well, you can maybe change the world.”
As early as 2021, Gino considered leaving the sport to work in environmental advocacy. In real time, I watched him weigh that choice with his newfound influence, which he immediately wanted to put towards something bigger than himself. That Vuelta, he raised money for JustDiggit, a charity devoted to rewilding Africa, a place he had gotten to know quite well through his Qhubeka years. Beyond charity, Gino struggled also with the ethical quandaries of a cycling sponsored by bodies who actively harmed the very same earth. He told me, of his work with the environment, “It helps me to cope with it and feel a bit more – in German we say 'im Reinen', which translates to being in the clean with yourself."
I think if I had one word to describe Gino Mäder, it would be brave. He was just so ****ing brave. On the bike, he had panache. He punched way above his weight and took on giants, walking away looking the better man. Everything he ever won he won elegantly, and then, in the exit interview, he would laugh and on the podium he would take a bow. He promised a show and delivered one. He said what he meant, which is a rare quality in human beings. He was brave and brilliant and definitively on the right side of history. He could have been anything. We were lucky to have him in our little world, as a cyclist and as a phenomenal human being.
My entire heart goes out to his loved ones, his family, and anyone who had the profound gift of knowing him. I am so thankful I got to know him too.
I freni a disco e i copertoni non c'entrano nulla. Semmai rendono il mezzo migliore e non più pericoloso. Altrimenti col ragionamento che un ciclista si sente più sicuro e quindi corre e cade aboliamo anche il casco. Anche con quello il ciclista si sente più sicuro. E togliamo l'abs gli airbag le cinture dalle macchine perchè con quella roba il guidatore si sente più prudente e corre.
Che razza di amenità che tocca da legger.
Bordi
Apprendista Scalatore
Un anno dopo...
www.tio.ch
«La morte di Gino ha salvato quattro vite»
Gli organi del ciclista svizzero spirato un anno fa hanno aiutato quattro persone. La sorella: «Non ho mai pensato potesse morire».
www.tio.ch
I still really miss Gino, by Pello Bilbao
Almost a year on since Gino Mäder died at the Tour de Suisse, his Bahrain-Victorious teammate Pello Bilbao opens up about the effect Mäder’s death had on him, and explains why the much-loved Swiss was a unique figure within the sport.
www.rouleur.it
4x16
Maglia Iridata
- 21 Marzo 2010
- 14.987
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- 44
- Bici
- Rewel Chorus 11; Vetta Centaur 10; Giant Athena 9; Bianchi Vento 602 Veloce 8; Benotto 900sp 300ex 7
Anche dalla tragedia più grande può risorgere la vita! Io lo dirò sempre....donazione organi obbligatoria per legge.....Un anno dopo...
«La morte di Gino ha salvato quattro vite»
Gli organi del ciclista svizzero spirato un anno fa hanno aiutato quattro persone. La sorella: «Non ho mai pensato potesse morire».
