MEDIA: The Long Season

by Bruno Schull

COST: $14

PHONE: 800-548-4348

WEB SITE: www.breakawaybooks.com

Review by Dain Zaffke

The biggest gap to close in racing is the jump from amateur to professional. How many times have you heard the old “I used to be a racer” stories? These long-winded tales are nearly always told by some obese, balding, middle-aged man who assures you, “I used to race in college. Was damn good, too.”

What the hell happened? Every year thousands of cyclists throw on number plates, have a good time and decide, “It’d be pretty fun if I got paid to do this.” And off they go. Bruno Schull’s memoir, The Long Season, details this journey firsthand. While juggling college, a girlfriend and a day job, Schull struggles to upgrade from category 3 road racing to the pro 1/2 class. The Long Season follows Schull’s training, racing and life methodically from the months of March until October with constant parallels to the European pro circuit.

The book had potential. Stateside amateur racing, Pro European races, a rise up through the ranks, that’s exciting stuff. Unfortunately, Schull’s writing is overly poetic. I wouldn’t call it a failed attempt at poetry, but it sure wasn’t a success. Numerous chapters are devoted purely to reminiscing about the 1994 pro road racing circuit. These are blow-by-blow personal accounts from the vantage point of a bar stool in front of euro television. Instead of an insider's view, we get details from television we probably already watched. This says a lot about Schull's stamina--how many stages of the Tour de France could you finish in a noisy American bar? The far-too-brief personal racing accounts are bogged down with drawn out descriptions of the weather, all told in a subdued, relaxed writing style (Valium comes to mind, actually). The result is a 237-page memoir that gives you a feeling of just how long the 8-month racing season can feel.

So, would I recommend The Long Season? Yeah, without a doubt. This may not be the most entertaining cycling book on the shelves, but what it lacks in action, it makes up for in education. We’ve all seen professional cyclists sweep past effortlessly on TV and in magazines, but all we see is the glory. Why do so many gung-ho racers fizzle out and morph into middle age with an empty palmarès and fat guts? Because bike racing is hard work. Schull reminds us that the ascent to the professional ranks can be long and not always action packed. If readers have the determination to finish The Long Season, they just might have the necessary grit to bridge the gap to professional racing.