Other than the final ten kilometres or so, is there really any point in watching the final stage of the Tour de France in Paris? That’s the question many of my non-cycling friends have regularly put to me over the years when I would religiously tune in to the final day’s procession into the French capital. And to be fair, they probably did have a point.
There’s rarely any exciting racing in any shape or form until the various sprint teams start to get organised ready to tee up their elected fast man for the bunch kick along the Champs-Élysées for the unofficial sprinters World Championships. Unwritten tradition dictates that the race operates in that way on the final day, but surely a bit of variety could do no harm once in a while.
