Michael Barry’s Diary: All for one and one for all
One by one the team stepped on to the bus, sweat pouring from their faces, their jerseys wide-open, radio earpieces hanging from their salt-encrusted helmet straps, road dirt and carbon brake dust on their faces, veins pulsing on their sweat soaked arms and legs. As helmets were buckled and seats found, each said in his own way, with his own accent, “That was the best lead-out I have ever been a part of.”