Here we are at an airstrip in the middle of France, surrounded by 400 extinct volcanoes.

It's searingly hot, and the shiny boy to end all shiny boys lifts his arms aloft, then

he puts them to his side as if he were some sort of messianic figure, perhaps Jesus nailed

to a cross, except in this case, he's not, he's a writer from Bike Exchange Jaco, and

his name is Michael Matthews, and Good Lord, he's one of bicycle rays in unexpected fashion.

Because I think David U and I, quite understandably and for good reasons, wrote off his chances

relatively emphatically in the commentary.

Well we did, but you also said you never write him off, so we didn't kind of hedge our

asses.

Yeah, but that's the commentators kind of like, well just to guess I'm wrong, I'll say

this.

But it was quite unexpected, and it was massively emphatically.

I said he was going to win.

Did you?

Just putting that on.

When did you say that?

Really early, didn't I, Pete?

You did.

When he was in the breakaway.

Mm-hmm.

And also, on this break-ass earlier, like I'm talking days and days ago, I said the only

way or chances got of winning a stage if he gets in the breakaway, so none of his

...