If it's not a corporate merger, it's at least a de facto union. I'm talking about Bahrain and Visma, the teams of the top two, Eulalio and Vinge. Scenes straight out of a romance novel, never seen two lovebirds so in love and in agreement. In Novi, a finale as romantic as it gets: Segaert attacks 3200 meters from the finish line, cleverly exploiting a curve, an attempt quite reckless at those speeds, if it weren't for the fact that. Behind him is Vinge's Visma lined up, suddenly all busy with completely different matters: one whistling at the waitresses at the corner bar, another pulling out cards for a game of briscola, Vinge booking the restaurant for the evening, others singing Osteria numero dueeeeee...

Segaert flies like a finisher of bygone times, behind him Visma checks out, once again the de facto union works in the most romantic harmony. When others try to chase, it's already time to close the shutters. Bahrain enjoys another wedding gift, Visma accumulates credits. It left the pink jersey to Eulalio until Pila (Saturday), it willingly left a beautiful stage to Segaert, sooner or later the time will come to receive as well. Already here at the Giro, certainly further ahead at the Tour. Nothing scandalous, nothing sinful, everything in broad daylight, head held high: marriages of convenience, as is known in the history of humanity, are the most solid and most lasting.

But while waiting for the truth stage at Pila – Vinge finally in pink or Vinge exposed in his mediocrity – I propose we all have a Martini. It's not a Giro sponsor, but it's the beautiful novelty of this Giro. Umberto the road troublemaker, who every day casts his dragnet into the most popular Italy, pouring into homes comforting scraps of human Giro, between custom and color, between the cultural and the picaresque. The bigwigs at the state network must have been distracted to let such an eccentric and extravagant presence slip away. Suddenly, you breathe in whiffs of ancient television, understood as savory and intelligent, amid the flat and monotonous mannerism of the technical expedition. Umberto moves by the seat of his pants (so it seems anyway), he's that rascally and roguish classmate who comes in late and leaves early, who always has a toothache when there's a scheduled test, who tames and dismantles the Latin shrew with a low cabaret quip. He's an ironic and irreverent presence, who injects into the stately Rai broadcasts comforting aromas of early-style Zavoli. Part troublemaker and part pirate, he brings into the grayness of this vaguely depressed Giro sustainable doses of irony. From the palette of moods, he paints smiles. Scatterbrained and rollicking, he keeps company and merriment with street people (and bar patrons). Hints of Chiambretti and Beppe Viola, strong aftertaste of Nanni Loy. Not too high alcohol content, full-bodied just right, goes down a treat. Without any pretense.

From his official biographies: "After attending the Rossi classical high school in Massa, he graduated in Archaeology at the University of Pisa. He began his journalism career at Sole 24 ore, then RaiNews24, TGR Lombardia and finally RaiSport".

While serious institutional TV has the brilliant idea of connecting with the nutritionist "to explain how to deal with the first heat", I suggest dealing with it with a round of Martini. Dry. No ice. And whoever abstains pays for everyone.