Remembering Marco

On February 15th 2004 my friend Drew and I rolled out on a solemn bike ride. We were sporting black armbands, strips of cotton cut from an old t-shirt — a shabby yet honest tribute. Our conversation came in fits and starts, interspersed by long moments of silent gloom. We were in shock, saddened and more than a little angry: the man of our shared sporting inspiration had died the previous day of a cocaine overdose.

The aforementioned Drew, my Breakaway travelling partner, had been inspired to get into cycling by Eurosport's coverage of the 1998 Tour. He had never seen an athlete, in any sport, quite like Marco. It was the guts, the determination, the panache and the daring (attacking on the rain-soaked Galibier ascent, solo and so far from the finish). For Drew it was love at first sight. By the end of that summer he was riding around Edinburgh on a Mercatone Uno replica Bianchi, sporting the matching kit, bandanna and all.