We interrupt this sport for a brainstorm
The world of cycling events is getting weirder. We pulled back the curtain on the C-suite meeting where the next big thing is born. It's not pretty.
INT. SOULLESS BOARDROOM - DAY
The air is the temperature of ambition. A vast glass table reflects the grey sky. On a whiteboard, words like ‘SYNERGY’, ‘PHYGITAL’, and ‘EXPERIENTIAL’ are written in a terrifyingly neat hand.
At the table sit four people.
JANINE (40s), moderator, carries the weary poise of someone who has tried to explain the UCI points system to venture capitalists.
CHAD (28), VP of Disruption, wears a cycling cap with a blazer. He hasn’t ridden a bike in a decade but has strong opinions on NFTs of chainrings.
BRENDA (30s), Authenticity Architect, radiates a calm that can only be achieved through a multi-thousand-dollar wellness routine. She is curating her personal brand in real time.
GARY (60s), Events Veteran, has the thousand-yard stare of a man who once had to retrieve a race sponsor’s inflatable gorilla from a motorway.
JANINE (Clicking a pen) Right. Thank you for coming. As you know, the Q3 innovation pipeline is looking… thin. The balloon-assisted bike drop has been done. The race on oversized plastic wheels has, I’m told, plateaued from an engagement perspective. We need the next big thing. Something that cuts through. Chad, you’re vibrating. Start us off.
CHAD Delighted, Janine. I’m thinking big. I’m thinking integrated. I’m thinking… Aero-geddon. It’s an inner-city crit, but every rider is paired with a commercial delivery drone. Your power output determines your drone’s altitude. Fall below the wattage threshold, and your drone descends and eliminates you via a targeted water-balloon strike.
There is a silence.
CHAD (Beaming) It’s like Mario Kart meets McKinsey, with a Q3 revenue stream that is, frankly, breathtaking. We gamify the spectator experience via an app. Place micro-bets on who gets soaked next. Purchase power-ups for your favourite rider. We can even offer a premium subscription to control the 'splash zone' camera.
BRENDA (A serene, pitying smile) Chad, that’s so… aggressive. So masculine. The modern consumer doesn’t want conflict. They want a journey. They want… The Path of Most Resistance.
She gestures gracefully.
BRENDA It’s a 200-kilometre gravel event. But there are no feed zones. You have to forage for your own nutrition. The bikes are single-speed and made from artisanal, locally-sourced, cruelty-free bamboo. We have checkpoints, but they’re not for timing. They’re for mandatory mindfulness sessions. You have to identify three types of native bird before you can continue. The real KOM is the one you climb within your soul. We monetise that with a bespoke journaling app.
JANINE How do you… win?
BRENDA That’s the beauty of it. You don’t. At the end, everyone sits in a circle and shares their emotional breakthroughs. The person with the most profound journey, as voted on by our influencer panel, wins a week-long silent retreat. Which is also a key sponsor.
Gary sighs, the sound of a thousand risk assessment forms being filled out in triplicate.
GARY Right. Cute. My idea’s simpler. More televisual. We're calling it the Devolution Criterium. You know that multi-story car park down by the docks? We rent it. A five-lap crit. But here’s the kicker: every lap, you have to do a bike change. And every bike is worse than the last.
He leans forward, suddenly animated.
GARY You start on a Pinarello Dogma F. Lap two, you’re on a 10-year-old alloy Giant Defy. Lap three, a rusty mountain bike with a flat front tyre. Lap four, a kid’s BMX. The final lap… is on a unicycle. We can get a bookie on as sponsor. The odds would be incredible.
CHAD I love the asset-degradation narrative, Gary, I really do. But how do we scale it? What if… what if we combined our thinking? The Devolution Crit, but instead of foraging for berries, Brenda, they have to forage for their next bike part in a designated scrapheap?
BRENDA And instead of a scrapheap, it’s a beautifully curated collection of ‘upcycled’ components, each with its own story. We could sell the unicycles afterwards as art objects.
JANINE (Head in hands) So we’re sending people into a car park to fight over rusty components to build a unicycle against the clock while being filmed by drones?
CHAD Wait. I’ve got it. The ultimate synthesis of our core competencies. The logical endpoint of consumer-led athletic endeavour.
He stands and walks to the whiteboard. He draws a large, simple box.
CHAD The FLÄTPAKK Gran Fondo.
He lets the name hang in the air. Brenda gasps. Gary nods slowly, a glimmer of respect in his tired eyes.
CHAD The event starts in an enormous, empty warehouse. Each rider is given a single, large, brown cardboard box. The horn sounds. The first stage… is to assemble their own bicycle using only a tiny Allen key and a wordless, pictographic instruction manual.
BRENDA (Whispering) The tension. The human drama.
CHAD Once assembled—or, you know, sort of assembled—they ride the 100-kilometre course. The first feed zone is at the 40 km mark. The only nutrition available? Swedish meatballs. The course runs through a forest, over some gravel, and for one glorious, televised kilometre… through the ball pit of the sponsor’s flagship furniture store.
GARY The finish line is the checkout. I can see it now.
JANINE And the prize? What on earth is the prize for winning this… this nightmare?
Chad, Brenda and Gary look at each other. They smile. They speak in unison.
ALL A gift voucher.
GARY And a single, leftover screw you can’t identify.
Chad nods, his eyes gleaming with the promise of a thousand synergistic partnerships.
CHAD It perfectly captures the user journey.
The first stage… is to assemble their own bicycle using only a tiny Allen key and a wordless, pictographic instruction manual.
And the prize? What on earth is the prize for winning this… this nightmare? ... A gift voucher. And a single, leftover screw you can’t identify.