“As Nibali stood up, he took his bottle out of its cage and
launched it at Froomey before riding off, because Nibali thought he was to
blame for bringing them down,” Rowe writes.
Rowe, seeing photographers nearby and Froome without a
working bike, handed his own over to his teammate. “I said, ‘Listen, mate, just
take my bike and get to the finish’... I told him, ‘Just get away from the riff
raff.’ I could see as I gave him my bike that he was fuming.”
Rowe caught up to the finish later, where the team soigneur
told him Froome had blown straight past without stopping. Rowe had a feeling he
knew exactly where Froome had gone.
He found confirmation at the Astana team bus. “I sprinted up
to the Astana team bus, leant my bike against it and started to climb the
stairs on to it. As I did so, Froomey was coming down them.”
Back at the Sky bus, Rowe asked Froome what had happened.
The response was blunt. “‘He won’t be fucking with me for a while.’”
According to Rowe, Froome had marched onto the Astana bus
and physically confronted Nibali. “It turned out that he’d got on to the Astana
bus and grabbed Nibali by the scruff of the neck,” he writes. Froome demanded
Nibali point out how he had caused the crash, which was clearly not the case on
replay footage.
“Nibali, meanwhile, went as white as a ghost and didn’t know
what to say,” Rowe recalls. Froome made it clear the hostility wouldn’t be
tolerated again, and the story underlines a side of Froome not often seen
publicly. “Like I said, Froomey had some dog in him and that was one moment
when it came out,” Rowe writes.
Rowe draws a line from that moment to the kind of authority
Froome commanded in the peloton. “People talk about the likes of Bernard
Hinault or Lance Armstrong being the peloton’s patron... Froomey had that about
him as well.”