He collapsed just 500 meters from the finish. That day, June 8, 1956, Giro d'Italia, Bondone stage, he had endured 241 kilometers and another 500 meters with four mountains, had withstood rain, fog, cold and finally snow, had worn the pink jersey even when the wool had turned into a soaking wet rag of sweat and water, but also of fatigue and fear, his number 43 hidden by a jacket too light to make sense, he had gritted his teeth until wearing them down, had exhausted his faith and hope. And he collapsed into the hands of his sports director, Mario Giumanini, who was always blamed for not encouraging him enough. As if his rider lacked willpower. Pasquale Fornara. Pasqualino. Lino. Lino the Swiss. Lino the Helvetic.

Pasqualino was very Italian, from Borgomanero in Novara. And just a few days ago, we missed his hundredth birthday on March 29. Serious, considering that Pasqualino was the fourth man of Italian cycling behind "those two", Coppi and Bartali, and the "third man", also the "third wheel", Fiorenzo Magni. And if he wasn't considered a golden man like his three colleagues, it's perhaps because he had found gold in Switzerland (four victories - record - during the times of Ferdi Kubler and Hugo Koblet, the 2K, or rather, the K2 of cycling) and not in Italy.

Remembered as "the rider who always smiled" (also the title of the book dedicated to him by Fabio Marzaglia and Luca Fornara, Pasqualino's son), that day on his frozen face, Lino the Helvetic retained only a grimace of pain. Giumanini, who followed the race in the Arbos team car (from the initials of the founders' surnames, Silvio Araldi and Luigi Boselli), wearing a coat and dressed in a mechanic's overalls, spoke on the radio about the "inhuman harshness" of the stage. And Giulio Cattivelli, in "Libertà" on June 9, in a piece titled "Cyclists or Fakirs", wrote about "an absurd, bestial competition of fakirism where very little sporting spirit remained and where human dignity itself was annulled".

From a farming family, trained by Domenico "all or nothing" Piemontesi, then 13 years as a professional and 26 victories, a complete rider therefore strong especially in stage races, Pasqualino was second in a Vuelta (in 1958), third in a Giro (in 1953), fourth in a Tour (in 1955), all first places if only there had been a fourth week. He wasn't a magazine personality: in a Luce film about his victorious Tour of Switzerland in 1952, his story is defined as "pathetic", "leaving Italy small and unknown", then "Kubler hired him as a water carrier, one of the last", and finally success. With the money earned and saved during his career ("Pasqualino, saver of orangeades", in 'Corriere dello Sport'), he bought a house, and even a hotel. He died at 65, in his sleep, from a heart attack. The announcement was made by phone by Adriana, his wife: "I wanted to tell you that Lino is no longer here - she told journalist Carlo Panizza -. If you can, let his colleagues know". Since then, riders and fans would call him "poor Fornara". But Fornara was rich. His smile had been forgotten. Unlike Coppi - "Fausto won without ever smiling", wrote Orio Vergani in 'Corriere della Sera', "almost not fully believing in himself" - Pasqualino had a radiant, illuminating, solar smile (in the photo, on the left, with Gastone Nencini and Rolly Marchi). Except that day on the Bondone.