Johan and Me (part 27) by Ramon Green.
So that's it. We shared sixteen wonderful years together but it ended on a sunny Wednesday afternoon in an undistighished suburb of Antwerpen. As Johan walked to the podium for the last time I could have leant over and given him a last pat on the back but I do not suppose he would have remembered me as at our frequent meetings we have usually been separated by barriers. Maybe it was a one sided affair but it was no less real for that.
I don't remember Johan's first win all those years ago in the Grand Prix Briek Schotte. How ironic that Briek, the "Last of the Flandrians", should die on the day that Johan, a true Flandrian, rode his final Ronde Van Vlaanderen. In his early years Johan was so different, He was a bunch sprinter who in 1990 won the final Tour stage in Paris.In 1991 he was champion of Flanders and in 1992 champion of all Belgium. The next year he won the sprinters' classic, Paris-Tours, the only classic that evaded Eddy Merckx. But Johan had already shown signs of greatness. Museeuw was made for greater things than winning bunch sprints. At 6ft.1in. and 12st. 4lb. he had the perfect classic specialist build. The stage for his destiny passed the family Peugeot garage in Gistel, West Flanders. The pave of Flanders and Le Nord was the anvil on which Johan would forge his greatest victories.
Between 1988 and 2003 Johan won 111 races, most within a days ride of his home. Three of those victories will stay in my memory forever. The first was his World championship at Lugano. Johan went in the early break dominated by Italians and Swiss and attacked on the climb in the last hour. He could have won alone but when he saw the Swiss Gianetti chasing he waited for him thereby ensuring that the Swiss would not chase. Needless to say the sprint was a formality.
Johan won his last Ronde in 1998 by launching the perfect attack on the Tenbosse at Brakel and romping up the Muur at Gerardsbergen and the Bosberg to win alone. It was nail-biting stuff and only when Duffield screamed that Johan had gone too soon was I sure that he would win. I am certain that this would have been Johan's greatest year but for his horrific crash a week later in the Forest of Arenberg. In the fortnight before the Ronde he had won two Belgian semi-classics and was clearly on superb form. Instead his career and indeed his life was in danger.
When two years later Johan, alone and victorious, crossed the finish line on Roubaix track pointing at his raised knee only Duffield had forgotten the horrors of Arenberg. Only the Clown Prince of Brum wondered why Johan should point to the horrendous scars on his knee. Only the three-wheeled fool could spoil for English speakers everwhere such a beautiful moment by questioning Johan's action.
Those three wins are just a small part of the experiences we have shared over so many years. Now he has gone from the peleton forever and I am left with only my memories. Perhaps now that Johan and I have parted I can ask myself just where is his place in the Pantheon of the cycling Gods. I believe that on the pave he was the greatest ever but overall as a classics rider he is behind Merckx, Van Looy, De Vlaeminck and Kelly who it should be noted never won the Tour of Flanders.

Thank you Johan, the Lion of Flanders, for sixteen wonderful years.