A New tour for Team Versus
By Leslie Varsha

While Lance Armstrong is in the last days of training for what he hopes will be his 8th Tour de France victory, my coworkers and I are packed in edit rooms, producing features, getting sponsored elements together, and doing everything else we need to do before we chase the dragon that is “The Tour” for 3-and-a-half weeks.  This year, I will fill the role of associate director for Versus’s live coverage.  Picture a TV control room.  I’m the woman on headset yelling “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, roll the commercial break!”   

Sometimes, when people hear I’m working on the Tour de France, it seems the word “France” cancels out the word “work” and they picture me wearing a beret, sipping café in the café - pinky extended, and hanging out with Lance Armstrong.  In actuality, I’m in a production truck for 10 hours a day and dinner is usually a sandwich at the gas station on the way to the next day’s finish town.  It’s a bit like the movie “Groundhog Day.” Every day is the same, only you step outside the TV truck and you’re parked at a different finish line. 

At the end of the Tour, the TV truck is parked on the Champs-Elysees in Paris.  Last summer, after the final yellow jersey had been handed out, I stepped out of the truck for a moment and encountered a scuffling of people.  I looked up only to realize the Spanish Tour winner Carlos Sastre was being escorted down the sidewalk.  He, along with his toddler son perched on his back, was the nucleus in a human molecule of fifteen arm-linked people circled around him, shooing away the masses. 

In four years of working at the Tour de France, I had never been that close to the overall winner.  I acted fast.  I got out my camera and was stalking like the paparazzi. Then I thought, “what about that video feature on my camera…go woman...quick!”  Time slowed.  Suddenly, I felt compelled to say something.  ”Congratulations Carlos,” I squealed.  Playing back the video, I sounded like an idiot and Sastre seemed to give me a look that says, “You’re psycho,” but it’s a memory I’ll always cherish.

This year, as the cyclists prepare for the Tour and I tackle a mountain of pre-production work, I wonder if fanatical Euro schlouges will jump on my car in the mountain stages, I wonder how my two TDF rookie car-mates will handle the rigors of the Tour, and I wonder how many fans will see my credentials and ask, “Hey, Where’s Bob Roll?”  If you’re curious too, please follow my journey on the Tour de France in the coming weeks at Versus.com.