That time when – it was February 1937 – he got on his bike in Florence and got off in Milan to take care of some business, on the way back he was stopped and fined in Bologna for violating a traffic ban, then on the Futa pass he was caught in a snowstorm, returned to Bologna, slept at friends' place, the next day he crossed the Futa again and arrived home with a fever of almost 40 degrees.

That time he took the train to Florence, got off in Milan, entered the offices of the "Gazzetta dello Sport" and then into the director's room, where he bummed five or six unfiltered Gauloises from Gianni Brera, and asked him: "Do you still think I'm too old for the Tour?". It was 1948. And he would win the Tour. In fact: reclaim it, ten years after the first time.

That time he went to Rome and headed to Palazzo Chigi, was received by Prime Minister Alcide De Gasperi, who asked him what he would like as a reward for that victory in France, he replied "Your Excellency, if it's possible, I would like not to pay taxes, for just one year", but it wasn't De Gasperi who answered him, it was his secretary Giulio Andreotti, "No, that cannot be done", and so he gave up any wish, any request.

That time at the 1954 Giro d'Italia, at the finish of the Abetone-Genova stage of 251 km, approached by young commentator Adriano De Zan for a live interview, he claimed that "Television doesn't interest anyone" and declined, yet the following year RAI offered him a contract as a commentator and he accepted.

The Pious, the Just, the Old One. The Timeless, the Indestructible. The Iron Man. Gino Bartali, Ginettaccio, father of the nation and of cycling, the Garibaldi on a bicycle. Sergio Meda had just been hired by the "Gazzetta dello Sport" when he was sent to the Six Days of Milan to interview Bartali. He called him "Mr. Bartali" and Bartali, scolding him, gave him his first lesson: "In cycling we all use the informal 'you'.". Fifty-three years later, Meda dedicates a precious book to Bartali, a difficult mission after everything that has been written about Ginettaccio, starting with Bartali himself and his son Andrea, passing through Curzio Malaparte and Dino Buzzati, Mario Fossati and Guido Vergani, to name just four. A precious book because, although selective and concentrated, it contains everything; because, as a twentieth-century journalist who spilled over into the 2000s, Meda maintains and applies seriousness, rigor, balance; and perhaps because, by not always asking the same questions and thus not always receiving the same answers, Meda dug deeper and rediscovered. The mirror of the soul is not so mysterious after all.

Meda also writes about the famous water bottle, "actually a water bottle", Tour de France 1952, photo by Carlo Martini on the Izoard. And here too, especially here, the balance of historical reconstruction is revealed. "It must be said that Gino always had the shrewdness, when a fan asked him about that gesture, to ask him whether he supported him or Fausto. Once he knew the answer, he would confirm to Coppi's fan that it was Fausto who had passed it to him; instead, if it was his own fan, he would reassure him by saying: 'It was me'.".

The book is titled "A Man of Integrity" (Edizioni Francescane Italiane, 184 pages, 15 euros). A title perfectly suited to the author as well.