What did Katy’s accident tell me? We are a family

All images: Adam Harridence

It’s been a tough year for UK cycling and probably cycling in general across 2024. Yes we had some incredible racing. We have seen amazing displays of genius and skill; we have celebrated Van Empel, Kopecky, Pidcock, Tadej, Tadej and ummm Tadej. No doubt about it, on the bike and on the TV, the racing has been awesome. But off it, that is another story.

But this is not an article about the end of the British cycling scene as we know it, (the furore completely ignoring the fact that the women’s cycling scene is actually in a good place) or the many tragedies in our sport this year. Far from it. This is about us. The three people who have carried on reading the second paragraph of this article and the millions who come together to support elite cycling in the UK. I like to call them ‘the family’ because that is what we are; a family. 

I was going to write a report on the UCI Track Champions League Final ten days ago, but when Katy Marchant and Alessa-Catriona Pröpster had their terrible accident, I thought again. The moment at the end of the start/finish straight when both riders rode up the banking, over the barrier and into the crowd will stick in the mind for a very long time - the instant moment of horror. The fact that no-one had more serious injuries is an absolute miracle. 

But in those moments after, as we slowly watched the fans and riders recover or receive treatment, something struck me. There was a palpable sense of belonging that came over me and hopefully a few other people too watching on, that is worth writing about.

Our sport has an illustrious history - the first significant race was held 20 years before England’s football league was formed in the 19th Century. So we have a sense of belonging to a sport that mixes history, culture, danger, controversy and entertainment into a unique blend. That sense of belonging I believe has evolved into a family of millions that care about a sport beyond the surface we all ride on - fields, mountains, roads, cinder and wooden boards. That’s not to say we don’t all have our views and differences about which surface we prefer (we all know mud and fields are best), but it doesn’t define our relationship with two wheels.

I often say if you put a BMX rider, a track rider, a mountain-bike rider and a road rider in a room, they will talk about the weather. But inside that velodrome in London on Saturday, that family swung into action with riders, spectators and officials coming together in unison to empathise with each other and to share the anxiety when the worst happens. And it very nearly did but thankfully it didn’t. And that is what we do in cycling - we come together in adversity, because we intrinsically care about the participants in our sport, it is the family way.

Within the 2012 Olympic venue, I sat there watching the GB riders come together to support Katy’s family at their time of need. The commentators and producers treated the situation with tact and respect. The thousands of fans as you looked around the arena sat respectfully, seemingly replaying the situation with the strangers sitting next to them. Some fans observed on the TV camera monitors and others sat watching for signs from the riders or paramedics.  Other riders stood in the track centre holding their breath for what seemed like an age. Nobody wanted to leave until we knew how Katy was. It was a strange, unpleasant yet somehow comforting feeling.

Then when the call came to exit the velodrome because treatment continued and the event was cancelled, the majority didn’t. Not because of morbid curiosity but because they cared and wanted to see Katy get to her feet. 

Now, we know this is common in sporting tragedies. But for me, I do believe we are unique in our approach to our sport - that relationship with two wheels (usually) bonds us all together and that is never more obvious when bad stuff happens (like the new UAE jersey). I mean, I actively seek people to talk to about the latest race or bike change and I can’t be the only one. Does a football fan discuss the latest stud pattern on a football boot? I really hope not because that would be a sad state of affairs and totally different to a chat about the shifter design of the latest groupset.

So when that terrible accident happened on Saturday in London’s second oldest velodrome (plug for Herne Hill), yes it was an anxiety-driven moment and one I would rather never repeat. But given that the riders and spectators managed somehow to come through it, we should all pause to reflect on what happened in that moment and the many more we have experienced, because it is special. We are a sport that cares passionately about everyone and everything in it and we see it time and time again. So much so we often overlook it.

So when you are out riding and we give a little nod to a passing cycling colleague, it isn’t just a nod. It is a family get together - that’s your cycling cousin.

Enjoy 2025!