
He was a featherweight, 1.58m (though some claim 1.62m) and 55kg, with a child-like face. He was endearing. Any men's bike towered over him. Next to rock-carved colleagues like Bartali, or already mythical figures like Coppi, Jacques Marinelli seemed out of place, there by chance or bet. Yet, with tubulars slung over his shoulder, two water bottles on the handlebars, pockets stuffed with food, he participated, raced, suffered, attacked, dropped, won. One week in the yellow jersey, it was the Tour de France of 1949.
Marinelli died last Thursday, he was 99 years old, and represented the oldest yellow jersey. It's said that his mother, to protect him, hoped more that he would dedicate himself to the accordion rather than the bike, but she gave in to his passion. Between "Jacky" as his mechanic from Le Blanc-Mesnil, on the outskirts of Paris where he was born on December 15, 1925, called him, and "Marinette" as his teammates nicknamed him, "la Perruche", the parakeet, prevailed, as Jacques Goddet, patron of L'Equipe and the Tour, defined him for the green color of his Ile-de-France team jersey, a regional formation destined to do battle. And on July 3, 1949, in the Boulogne-sur-mer-Rouen stage, 185 km, the Parakeet battled and took flight: second at the finish behind Lucien Teisseire, he conquered the lead with almost 13' advantage over Coppi and Bartali. The wool jersey, handed by singer Line Renaud, a star of the publicity caravan, was enormous on him: it wasn't expected that a child would wear it. Goddet wrote: "A parakeet transformed into a canary", alluding to the yellow of the jersey. And writer Max Falavelli: "He's a pygmy. His body is no thicker than a pencil lead, his legs like two green beans. And his head is like a fist". L'Equipe went all out to create his legend, the next day it headlined the front page with "le Roman d'un enfant du Tour", the novel of a Tour child, printing 650,000 copies, likely not a single one unsold, while Le Parisien attached Roger Bastide, sociologist, anthropologist and writer, to paint the epic of this child rider. The parakeet turned canary, happy but not satisfied, continued to dream and push, the next day entering another breakaway - first Kubler - and gaining 5'30" on Bartali and Magni and 18'43" on Coppi. Lead in the safe. Until July 10 when Fiorenzo Magni seized the yellow jersey. But Marinelli would never give up. So much so that in Paris he climbed the podium, first Coppi, second Bartali at 10'55", third him at 25'13".
Later Marinelli would explain that he was a victim of his own teammates, perhaps jealous, perhaps envious, anyway not very generous. He, however, was generous, at the end of the Tour he shared his earnings with them, then finally thought of himself, two months of circuits, each circuit a fee, he earned, saved, and finally spent and granted himself running water at home for the first time.
Marinelli was too small to compete with those champions, a parakeet is nothing compared to herons and eagles, men of iron and charming cyclists. He would race professionally until 1954, like Bartali, only Bartali was 40, he was 28. Meanwhile, he had collected only two stage wins in the Dauphiné and two more in the less prestigious Paris-Montceau les Mines, plus some circuits. In five other Tours de France, four withdrawals and a 31st place; in one Giro d'Italia, that of 1951, 71st place. Marinelli would make himself proud in life, first with a cyclist's shop in Melun (outside, in the wind, a flag with the inscription "Yellow Jersey at the Tour"), then with a Conforama store, home furniture and appliances, and finally with his own company, 150 employees and yellow trucks. He also ventured into politics, two mandates, total 12 years, as mayor of Melun.
In the obituary, the commemorative article with which L'Equipe celebrated him today, a confidance by Marinelli is recounted: while signing an autograph, a fan asked if he didn't remember him, "I had handed you a water bottle on the Tourmalet". It's truly that, thanks to cycling, time stops, time never passes, it's always cycling time.