Track cycling: A portrait of Christian Grasmann - pioneer of the Sixdays scene

There is a marvellous view from this mountain range, which was once pushed into the foothills of the Bavarian Alps by a huge Ice Age glacier. From Irschenberg, motorists can often enjoy a peaceful view across the Wilparting pilgrimage church to the 1,838 metre-high Wendelstein with its radio mast - because traffic on the motorway between Munich and Salzburg tends to jam here. In the future, however, new perspectives for track cycling will also open up from here: The view will soon be of a newly built cycling track. "It's a crazy idea, of course," says Hans Schönauer, the mayor of Irschenberg, who likes to joke that he presides over a municipality that has twice as many cows as inhabitants.

Quite a few of the 3,000 people in Irschenberg - and many others - probably think a cycle track with a panoramic view of the Alps on a greenfield site is a pretty crazy idea. However, some in the cycling world think it is at least very interesting. After all, there are hardly any usable cycle tracks in this country. One of those in favour is Christian Grasmann - if only because he came up with the idea. Around 20 kilometres from Irschenberg, he sits on the first floor of a terraced house in Holzkirchen. He has set up his office there. His training roll is in the basement. The lanky man from Upper Bavaria is one of the few people who attempt the balancing act between professional cyclist and team boss. On the first floor he manages his small team, the Maloja Pushbikers, by computer, fax and telephone, while in the basement he works on his job as a six-day pro.

The 35-year-old is one of the few self-made men in German professional cycling. At the Maloja Pushbikers, a racing team without a UCI licence, he is the founder, sporting director, captain, press spokesman, motorhome driver and team manager all in one. He manages the team together with his partner Anne. Anne, who has a doctorate in art history, remembers the beginnings of their relationship around ten years ago: "My friends asked: what do you want with a cyclist?" She now finds it great to organise art exhibitions in her main job and design Christmas cards for the cycling team or edit press releases about the latest races on the side. "It's important to be passionate about what you do," she says. She is referring to her life partner, who is always under pressure - whether on the racing bike or in the office, whether in discussions with sponsors, organisers and journalists. Or in disputes with officials.
Grasmann arranges a few more appointments, plans flights, writes emails, before briefly visiting team mechanic Rolf Wenz in the equipment store five minutes' walk away. He has set up a loft there - with collector's items such as old steel frames, woollen jerseys and faded pennants of honour. And carbon fibre bikes for the RSV Irschenberg youth group. Grasmann founded the club together with Mayor Schönauer in 2004 - it has since become something of the pride of the village and the base of the Maloja Pushbikers. The mayor is just as happy when he sees club members and professionals Leif Lampater and Marcel Kalz live on Eurosport at the London six-day race as he is when he is able to honour a German double champion from the youth ranks.

Successful youth work

In fact, club chairman Grasmann, together with youth director Christian Lichtenberg, has set up one of the most successful youth projects in Bavarian cycling. He knows that you need a broad base for a strong top team. And that his beloved sport of track cycling only has a long-term future with good youth work. His own trophies and past successes seem less important to him. He has victory ribbons pinned high on the garage wall, trophies stand above the tool bench and on the windowsill of the toilet in the materials store. The scrawny 1.89 metre man likes to give the impression that he prefers to think ahead rather than look back. Nevertheless, the tradition of his sport means a lot to him. This is shown by a small, actually inconspicuous piece of light-coloured wood on the wall, with a black line and the number "120" on it. It is the 120-metre mark of the cycling track in the Olympic Hall in Munich, where the professional cyclists rumbled around in the six-day race until 2009. It is both a memento and a reminder - the rest of the track was burnt in Munich's southern cogeneration plant. A symbol of the decline of track cycling and the Six Days scene in Germany. Every time he looks at the piece of wood, Grasmann gets upset. The legacy of track cycling in Munich - burnt as rubbish. "That really hurt us," he remembers the moment when he and his Six Days colleagues had to watch workers sawing up the track after the last race.

The cycling enthusiast is fighting against the decline - as a racing cyclist, as a team manager, as a source of ideas. And he is currently getting a tailwind: a new investor from Great Britain sees great potential in track cycling, with a lot of money Madison Sports Group (MSG) entered the six-day market in 2016. In winter 2016/17, there was a series of five six-day races for the first time, including the classic in Berlin - and all were broadcast live by Eurosport. In the following year, the Six Day Series has already shrunk by one event following the cancellation of Amsterdam. The third year will point the way forward - not only for the event series, but also for European track cycling as a whole.

A revolutionary as a teacher

Grasmann likes the fresh ideas that the British organiser brings to the sport. And at MSG, they value the professional cyclist and team boss. "Christian is a counsellor. He doesn't have the traditional perspective. He explains the events to us from an athlete's perspective," says Valts Miltovics, MSG's new managing director for the Berlin race. Grasmann is not just a racer, but also a "teacher for the youngsters - and for us too," says Miltovics, adding: "The youngsters don't think about the future the way he does." At some point, many professional cyclists no longer have a contract - and then have no idea what to do next. "Grasi", as many call him, always has ideas. He is someone who doesn't just ride in circles for money. He wants to break out of the eternal orbit. The Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung called him a "revolutionary on the roundabout". He sometimes thinks revolutionary, especially by the standards of traditional and often less dynamic cycling. That's why he often argues with officials and organisers because they are too slow to react to new ideas.
He has had to work his way up through the ranks - as a lateral entrant who only began to race seriously at the age of 19 or 20. He was kicked out of the association programme before he really got into it. For him, the extensive, less individual training programmes of the national coach seemed more like an execution than a career accelerator. "I wanted to give up completely back then," he recalls. He avoided the island of Mallorca for years because of a traumatic training camp experience.

Failed - and free

But from then on, the newcomer was as much a failure as he was free - partly because some of his supporters gave him a good talking to. He worked on his very special professional career, first as a gap filler in six-day races behind prominent riders such as Risi, Betschart, Zabel, Aldag & Co., then as an increasingly important component before celebrating his first victory last January in Bremen - in his 62nd six-day race. At the age of almost 35. The bald man with the hipster beard has become one of the faces of the Six Days scene. And at the track races in Australia or the British Revolution Series, where Bradley Wiggins and Geraint Thomas also compete, he and his team-mates are among the key performers.
For some, however, "the Grasi" is not only too fast on the bike, but also too belligerent, too willing to take risks. His mate Leif Lampater, with whom he once initiated the track team, thinks: "He offends people too often." Lampater and Grasmann are now heading in different directions. Lampater has been persuaded by the German Cycling Federation to once again lead the four-man track team. In return, the 2004 Olympic silver medallist, a 33-year-old sports soldier, received a secure livelihood for the family he had just started. Grasmann calls it a "Swabian bill", a little contemptuously.

Passion instead of arithmetic

The Swabian Lampater does the maths, the Bavarian Grasmann inspires or annoys - depending on your point of view. And sometimes he miscalculates. The Pushbikers team boss makes a lot possible with a lean budget. Sometimes more than is possible, critics would say, because at the end of the season the money simply wasn't enough. The team boss says that he then makes the rounds to the sponsors himself to see if there is perhaps still a bit left in the till, as he still has unpaid bills. "But that's only happened twice in five years," he reassures. Cool-headed calculators may shake their heads. But even those who might not be so fond of the cycling jack-of-all-trades because there have been, shall we say, misunderstandings: misunderstandings, somehow like the guy - with his crazy ideas and successes as a lateral thinker and do-it-yourselfer. Lampater emphasises: "He does super good marketing."
With some professional cyclists, you might doubt how they will earn their money when they no longer have the strength to compete at the top of the world. With Grasmann, nobody is actually worried. "Many people can only ride a bike, he can talk," say companions and business partners - and that is seen as recognition. Because "the Grasi" doesn't just talk, he gets things done, networks, fights, sells ideas, connects new people. For example, he persuaded the team sponsor, the Dinzler coffee roasting company, to relocate from Berchtesgadener Land to the green meadow on Irschenberg - literally. "Hans, do you need business tax?" he asked the mayor, Grasmann recounts. Today, the coffee and restaurant business at the motorway exit is one of the most important business tax payers on Irschenberg.
Was a cycling track on the edge of his village a realistic option? And when? Schönauer doesn't want to commit himself, but he is an Upper Bavarian through and through: "When an idea is ripe, we move quickly," he says. Even when it comes to a cycle track on the Irschenberg? "There's also a bobsleigh track at Königssee and a speed skating centre in Inzell," explains the local mayor - small towns with sports facilities that are actually too big, but which are important as centres of excellence.
Turning a supposedly crazy idea into reality - this drive unites the village mayor and the lateral thinker in track sports. Grasmann likes men like Schönauer. Everyone else sometimes finds it difficult to follow his pace and his views. He already has a design for the cycle track on his smartphone. Of course, it should not just be a wooden oval - shops and hotels should also be integrated. It should be something modern and beautiful. Quite unlike the German railway performance centre in Frankfurt/Oder, for example, where time seems to have stood still around the Oderlandhalle since the fall of the Berlin Wall. "If you ask someone whether they would rather train and live in the barracks in Frankfurt/Oder or with a mountain view on the Irschenberg - what do you think their answer will be?" Grasmann asks the visitors. It actually sounds quite simple. Then he gets on his Fuji racer and cycles over the snow-covered hilltops around Holzkirchen. When he gets back, he has had another good idea and has cleared his head for something new. He is sure of that. Even if the others sometimes have a problem with this idea.

About the person: Christian Grasmann

Born 16 March 1981 in Munich
Size 1.89 metres
Weight 74 kilogrammes
Nationality German
Place of residence Holzkirchen
Teams Rudy Project Racing Team (2011-2013) Maloja Pushbikers (2014-2017)

Important successes German champion in two-man team cycling (Madison) in 2010 (with Leif
Lampater) and 2015 (with Stefan Schäfer), overall winner of the Revolution Series 2013/14 and 2014/2015,
Six-day race Bremen 2016 (with Kenny De Ketele)