Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, May 1, 1995 TAG: 9505020064
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: STEPHEN FOSTER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Medium
OK, these Medalist Sports folk know how to put on a show.
It's more than six hours after 111 riders embarked from Lynchburg on the 141-mile trek to Blacksburg. ESPN's big-screen TV, "Big Mo," is flashing scenes from the riders' rush to win Stage 4. Music on the Virginia Tech mall is cascading over the throngs of race-watchers. Hundreds are cheering; kids are bouncing on their dads' shoulders.
The gutteral-voiced announcer is proclaiming, "Lance Armstrong: an American hero!'' as the Texan pumps his way down the mall raising his arms three times - mind you, three - before he crosses the finish line.
And then it's over.
Three years in a row, the Tour DuPont has visited Blacksburg. People are getting used to it. In a college town with more than its share of annual downtown festivals, the Tour DuPont is becoming established as a rite of spring.
"Oh yeah, we just love it," exclaims Becky Lawson, with two of her children and their friend in tow - all on bicycles. This is their third year watching the race.
"There seems to be a lot more stuff [this year]; more tents, more promotion," she said, and headed down the mall toward the War Memorial.
"All they need is MTV," someone else says.
Indeed, lining the street approaching the finish line are advertisers of every sort. A pizza maker giving away free samples. A film company. Food Lion. Ms. Chiquita is here helping to distribute - what else? - free bananas.
Below them on College Avenue, the standard Blacksburg festival fare goes on. Trinkets for sale. Lemonade from Arnold's restaurant. The pig presence prevails: the Ton-80 restaurant has a full pig roasting on the corner, someone's cooking up fresh pork rinds, and there are at least three stands selling their personal brands of barbecue.
All in the name of what Medalist deems - as often as it can - "America's premier cycling event."
Hard to argue with them.
Michael Shaw will tell you. He works in a bicycle shop in Northern Virginia, races a little on the side, and graduated from Tech a couple of years ago.
He came to town this past week - like last year - just for the race. "You have to wonder about someone who will drive five hours just to watch TV," he says self-deprecatingly, as he turns attention to "Big Mo."
Or ask Tim LaBranche, as he watches the race evolve according to ESPN.
Last year, the Tech pre-vet major had to study and couldn't see much of the race. Not this year. He's sitting on the "front rooooow."
"I'm going to stay here until the end," he says. Behind him hundreds sit or stand watching the big screen. More have found their place on the bank below Shultz Hall.
Though forecasters predicted 50,000 people would be here Sunday, it doesn't seem that as crowded as last year. Doubtful, though, that it has anything to do with promotion efforts.
The colors in the Tour DuPont logo are red, white and blue, appropriate hues for the biggest bicycle race in America. But the color of the day Sunday was gray. As in overcast, cloudy, misty - inappropriate conditions for the town to make good on its hopes for a 50,000-fan turnout.
"They're spread out," observes Walter Holberton, from his spot on top of the War Memorial Chapel. That's true.
Last year his wife and he sat on Roanoke Street to see the race. "They [the riders] went by - whish! whish!" A common disappointment.
"You can probably get a good view here," says the 1937 Tech grad and retired DuPont engineer. Sure can. Moments later, just after the announcer shouts that Armstrong has crossed Main Street, the soon-to-be overall leader of the Tour is spotted on Drillfield Drive, preceded by a host of siren-blaring police on motorcycles.
The cheers begin in earnest, rising from the fans standing on the edge of the Drillfield. Armstrong rides past Burruss Hall; the fans begin the surge - dozens, then hundreds, running away from the field up the hill to get to the finish line before Armstrong completes the in-town circuit.
A few run across the field to the other side to see Armstrong there, then make their way to the mall.
"I'll bet they're glad when this is over. Peaks of Otter and Mountain Lake in the same day? Whooo-ee!'' Holberton says. He, too, rushes back to the mall.
Then it's the announcer again: "It's like the 'called shot,''' he says, comparing Armstrong's impending victory to Babe Ruth's fabled home run.
Then it's the music, and the cheers, the arms thrice-raised, the flash of color whizzing by, and the tingling feeling of excitement that one gets when a proud achievement is witnessed.
Ah yes, another good show.
by CNB