You cannot help but feel for Christian Prudhomme. In his 10 years at the head of the Tour de France the amiable Frenchman has set himself the mission of livening up the event, making it less predictable and processional, and, as far as possible, ensuring suspense is maintained to the end. The route has been endlessly tweaked, with every sacred traditional cow apart from the finish on the Champs-Élysées consigned to the abattoir. The Tour has been turned into a made-for-television sports event rather than a bike race that happens to be shown on the small screen.

Prudhomme cannot, however, have reckoned with Chris Froome and Dave Brailsford. This year, in spite of his best efforts, they provided a race lacking in suspense for almost half its distance. The Tour was won after Froome opened decisive gaps in the Ardeche time trial on the second Thursday.

Those stages in the Alps and Jura, carefully plotted by Prudhomme’s number two Thierry Gouvenou, included new climbs, steep climbs, short climbs, long climbs, magnificent backdrops and insanely spectacular hairpins, but the same spectacle: Brailsford’s climbers chugging up and down the slopes with Froome sitting pretty in yellow.

Froome, Brailsford and Team Sky cannot be blamed for turning much of the mountain stages into a procession; that is the best way for them to race, the cycling equivalent of defence-based rugby where everyone yearns for the glorious insanity of running “French flair”. Historically, every Tour great has been criticised for making the race predictable, from the point in 1952 when the organisers put up extra prize money for the man who could finish second to Fausto Coppi.

Anquetil, Hinault, Merckx; all inspired grudging respect rather than admiration when they were at their most successful. Greg LeMond was venerated in 1989 for winning a Tour de France where neither he nor Laurent Fignon had perfect form or a strong team; a year later he was criticised for taking the race without a stage win.

Froome merits mention with those names because that is the company the Kenyan-born Briton is now keeping in the record books. There seems to be a spectrum of emotion that cycling goes through when confronted with someone who wins regularly and predictably, without making kooky videos on YouTube or emoting in public: Froome was initially greeted with surprise, last year he endured suspicion, but after this year’s coups de panache a measure of respect should come next. History suggests true affection will be born only when he endures defeat.

Terrorist attack

Respect and grace were particularly important this July given the particular context in which this Tour was run, on the roads of a France in a state of emergency, suffering a particularly bloody terrorist attack on Bastille Day, a nation in a state of shock, uncertainty and trauma, a race finishing under unprecedented security on the Champs-Élysées, a stage won by Germany’s Andre Greipel.

Froome taking to his feet on Mont Ventoux was a sideshow; in the real world, France is on its knees.

Froome and Tom Dumoulin deserve praise for the things they said on July 15th, so too Pierre Rolland of France when asked how upset he was about his crash on Friday: in the great scheme of things, the Cannondale rider said it was only a crash in a bike race. All their words should be noted when this Tour takes its place in the record books, so too the immense crowds on the roads of the Isére and Ain departements on Bastille Saturday, the endless ranks of tricolours making the point that this was more than just any usual July.

As far as the racing went, this was not a boring Tour, but a predictable Tour. The excitement came from events the organisers could not control. The crash on Mont Ventoux provided the most memorable image of the race, Froome on foot running up the mountain, but it stemmed from a failure of organisation: not enough barriers to contain a crowd that had doubled after the stage had been truncated due to high winds.

Froome’s crash at Saint Gervais owed nothing to the organisers and everything to the weather; the reminder of what was at stake lent an extra frisson to the rain-soaked final Saturday.

Record books

There was much to savour, Mark Cavendish’s renaissance to win four stages and pass Hinault in the record books.

Ironically, under Prudhomme Tour de France has moved away from the succession of bunch sprints that used to mark the event’s first week, but the mass finishes were of the highest quality, some of the closest the race has seen.

The most exciting route can be devised, every opportunity provided, but the outcome can still be predictable. Cycling’s truth is that outside circumstances and the riders themselves are what count for most. Guardian Service