Well, I'm charging through my review copy of Chris Froome's "The Climb". It started off a bit flowery, language-wise that is ("We exist in our cadence", anyone?), but quickly settled down and has turned into a very diverting read. You know you're on to something good when you develop paternal feelings for someone on the strength of just 90 pages of his autobiography.
The thing about CF is has doesn't do anything flamboyant; he just does the ordinary things well. He is possessed of a even temperament and a dogged optimism. This makes him impossible to dislike. It also explains why he is so well-liked by his teammates. I am always amazed by his unpretentious grace under pressure. During the Tour he faces interviewers at the tops of Alpine climbs, after 7 hours' racing with an infectious boyish half-smile on his lips. This is someone, you think to yourself, who loves being alive and who is determined to relish every moment. Good for him.
The other thing that marks his story out as noteworthy is his unusual upbringing. He was born and raised in Kenya, but into a decidedly British milieu. He cut his cycling teeth in an all-black, Swahili-speaking environment. Chris, unusually for a white Kenyan, is fluent in the language. He initially, as he admits, must have stuck out like a sore white thumb. The fact that he was accepted and taken to the heart of this small clique of black Kenyan cyclists speak volumes for his integrity.
Chris Froome - if he moved in next door to you, you'd be delighted.
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