The Italian National Road Race Championships are held annually. They are a cycling race which decides the Italian cycling champion in the road racing discipline, across several categories of rider. The event was first held in 1906 and was won by Giovanni Cuniolo. At the beginning there were often back-to-back wins from many riders. Costante Girardengo made the remarkable achievement of 9 wins between 1913 and 1925. Perhaps if it were not for the First World War, which blocked the running of the championship for four years, from 1915 until 1918, Constante would have gained additional victories. Despite this, he also holds the record for most consecutive wins, with 7. After his winning streak ended, another Italian cycling legend, Alfredo Binda, won 4 races in a row. Learco Guerra succeeded him with 5 consecutive wins. Since then the event has not been dominated to the same extent, although Fausto Coppi claimed 4 victories. Recent multiple victors have included Giovanni Visconti, Paolo Bettini, Salvatore Commesso, Massimo Podenzana and Gianni Bugno. The current champion is Franco Pellizotti. None of the road champions have also managed to win the time trial race.
Read more about Italian National Road Race Championships: Women
Famous quotes containing the words italian, national, road and/or race:
“Their martyred blood and ashes sow
O’er all the Italian fields where still doth sway
The triple tyrant; that from these may grow
A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way,
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.”
—John Milton (1608–1674)
“A good man will not engage even in a national cause, without examining the justice of it.”
—Samuel Richardson (1689–1761)
“Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’.”
—Bob Dylan [Robert Allen Zimmerman] (b. 1941)
“Many times man lives and dies
Betweeen his two eternities,
That of race and that of soul,
And ancient Ireland knew it all.
Whether man die in his bed
Or the rifle knocks him dead,”
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)