Drew walked over to where Dave was holding the bike. “And the next heat is John Jones against a plucky young lady all the way from, Nottingham, young Drew Bond. Drew is usually a time triallist and roadie and her mother is Jenny Bond, the Elite Women's' Road Race world champion, so we have a noble pedigree here tonight. John as you know gave Dafydd a run for his money last year, so you know all about him. This race, then, is goin' to be Beauty against the Beast.” The tannoy continued its build up to the heat.

Drew stripped off to the Team GB strip and a ripple of excitement went through the crowd. “Geez-us, it's bloody Vickie Pendleton, junior,” said one spectator to another.

“Yes, but a little thing like ‘er up against Jones the Beast, no brainer, innit?”

Drew, drew the far side of the track to start. Dave agreed the usual indication, the further away Drew got either in the lead or behind, Dave would stand near the line accordingly.

“Good luck, kiddo, do your best and make your mother proud,” he said kissed her on the top of her helmet and patted her behind as they stationed themselves opposite each other.

In pursuit racing the idea is to chase your opponent and try to beat them across your finishing line. For the kilo, it's usually four laps depending upon the size of the track.

The gun went and Drew dug in and powered the pedals, against the relatively large gear. It's a fixed wheel and the bikes have no brakes, so it's leg aching stuff.

In a quarter of a lap, Drew was three seconds behind; by half a lap it was six. Then he got into his rhythm. Jones was expecting a rematch in the final against Rees. This was almost a training session against the little girlie from up north. He took his foot off the gas; unfortunately for him, Drew didn't reciprocate and by the end of lap three, was five seconds up.

Shocked, Jones tried to retaliate, but the little girly from up north had the bit between her teeth and had wound up for a big finish. The buzzer went as Drew crossed the line eight seconds up on the larger Welsh boy—who couldn't believe what had just happened.

“See, I told you it was bloody Pendleton.”

Angharad ap Gtwilym 05.09 © 2009