MEALTIME. THOSE OF THE GIR... AVOLTA: REMO ROCCHIA - 9

INTERVIEW | 29/05/2025 | 08:20
di Marco Pastonesi

If it's true that only those who fall can rise again, Remo Rocchia has outdone Humphrey Bogart. From Festione di Demonte in Val Stura, born in 1951, four years as a professional with Cuneo-Benotto (1976), Vibor (1977 and 1978) and Cbm Fast-Gaggia (1979), by fate or distraction, because of an oil slick or a crack in the asphalt, a bump or a slide, Rocchia always fell at the most crucial moment. Somersaults. Even on himself.


Rocchia, why the bicycle?


"Out of necessity. Extremely poor family, I was the ninth of ten children, my father a mountain farmer with three or four cows, potatoes, wheat, hay, chestnuts. After fifth grade, I managed by doing odd jobs as an apprentice and attending evening classes. From a metalworker in a workshop to a carpenter in a furniture factory. To move around, here came the bike. The first wasn't a racing bike, the second was, bought with my savings from a grape harvest in France and help from my brother, an Atala. And with that, as a beginner, two races and two falls. But it wasn't my fault: the bike would rear up when I braked. I trained only when I could. In the evening, maybe on Saturday, and Sunday when there were no races. Always uphill. Towards the Maddalena Pass."

Then?

"Junior category, never won, but placed. In the Carasso-Mondovì I fell, but was noticed, would you like to come with us next year?, I said yes thanks, got a bike and jersey and more placings. I was good uphill. As an amateur, in an Italian team with an azure jersey, in Spain, at the Vuelta of Tarragona, I won a tough stage. Bernard Hinault was there with the Brittany jersey. They asked if I wanted to race with him, for him. Why race, I thought, for someone who comes after me? And I said no thanks. I didn't know, didn't understand, maybe I lacked courage, wasn't followed by anyone, felt alone and lost."

As a new professional?

"Tenth at Laigueglia, sixth in Valencia, at the start of Milano-Sanremo, at Castello Sforzesco, I trembled like a leaf with emotion, all the champions were there, from Merckx to Gimondi, from Poulidor to Thevenet, from Maertens to Moser, second to last but I finished. Then ninth at Appennino: climbs at will. Then the Tour of Switzerland: climbs at will. In the second stage I went alone, 250 meters from the finish I had a 50-meter lead, and perhaps from emotion, perhaps from fatigue, perhaps from inexperience, I was caught and overtaken in a sprint by Belgian Michel Pollentier. That day I fell from paradise. A victory could have changed my career. The next day I dropped Pollentier, but three others were ahead of us."

In 1977...

"Tirreno-Adriatico, first stage, final 9 km climb, alone, then caught and passed by Vandi and De Vlaeminck, but ahead of Saronni and Moser. And again ahead in the third stage, De Vlaeminck first, Saronni second, Moser third, me seventh. Then the Giro d'Italia. I finished twenty-third, not very well, I aspired to be between tenth and fifteenth, the last week was fatal to me, it was always raining, I got bronchitis, so where the mountains were finally there, I was no longer there. Like in the San Pellegrino stage, I was ahead uphill, downhill I dropped back, didn't feel like risking, was lightweight, would slide, didn't want to fall."

Other memories?

"The Tour of Val d'Aosta, one mountain after another, placings and falls. Another Milano-Sanremo, two crashes, the second before Turchino, here also involving De Vlaeminck, I got up, he too, his team - Brooklyn - was stopped to help him return, I attached to the train and before the tunnel we were already in the group. Two Tours of Lombardy, those climbs would have pleased me, but once a domestique for Panizza, another for Visentini, the first part pulling the group and the second rowing - my name helped me - in the boat. And the Mont Faron hill climb at the 1977 Mediterranean Tour, one of Merckx's last victories, me ninth with the same time as Poulidor, even though he was old and I was young."

Other opportunities?

"One, but lost. In 1979, at the Tour of Trentino, another climbing kingdom. First stage, I fell uphill, perhaps on an oil slick, hit my knee, two months off, missed the Giro, the contract was found and signed precisely at the Giro and so I didn't find it. At the end of the season I left the bike and jumped in a car, traveling for a photo lab to visit clients, a job I did for 29 years, lots of kilometers, every time a Tour of Italy."


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