It’s hard to say for sure who the happiest man was atop the podium at the Karlovy Vary World Cup.
Jonas Schomburg, the bronze medallist, won his first World Cup medal. Márk Dévay likewise claimed his first medal in taking silver. In doing so, he satisfied a particular ambition that has burned within him for a while.
And then there was Pearson.
When the start lists were revealed for Karlovy Vary, Morgan Pearson was in a very different place to that which he now inhabits. An indifferent start to the season by his lofty standards had seen him seemingly out of Olympic contention and scrambling to make the WTCS Final. Karlovy Vary offered a lifeline. A month later, he stands as an Olympic qualifier and the winner of the World Cup.
All three were superb in the water. Dévay led the way with a classic performance. Nicolo Strada and Marcus Dey had slotted into his draft while Schomburg and Pearson lurked nearby.
An eight man front pack came together on the bike, with Martin Demuth, Angel Sanchez Carreras and Samuel Dickinson adding their strength to the lead group. By the time they arrived in the town, they had a lead of over 40 seconds on the chase pack (which was also eight strong).
Sanchez came unstuck in the town, which lopped a man off the front pack. Although the leaders were working hard, they did not carry the same momentum as their pursuers. Through every corner and down each descent the chasers had that bit more vim and vigour.
The inevitable soon followed as the chasers, led by Strada and Simon Henseleit, caught the front pack. Rather than cause the race to settle, the bridging of the groups breathed new life into the event.
The pace rose, costing Dey his position in the pack and piling further time into the next group on the road.
On paper, Pearson was the quickest runner in the group and could afford to bide his time. He did the opposite. On the sixth lap, not long after the chasers had made contact with the front, the American attacked. He rode away with his rivals with a full-blooded attack that no one could answer.
At the end of the lap, his lead stood at 19 seconds. By the end of the bike, it hit 29 seconds. In one devastating move, Pearson killed any hope of another athlete winning gold.
Once onto the run, he only extended his margin. At the midpoint, he led by over a minute and the gold was in his back pocket. The race for silver and bronze, though, had an intriguing complexion.
Neither Schomburg nor Dévay had won a World Cup medal before. Moreover, both have been known for attacking the early stages of the run to varying degrees of success. When they surged into the podium positions on the first lap, the chance lay before them but the weight of history risked holding them back.
Henseleit, Tjebbe Kaindl, Alois Knabl and Strada queued up behind, ready to pounce should either have faltered. From the chase group, the likes of Max Studer and Barclay Izzard were also entering the fray.
Dévay and Schomburg found something different. Whereas the brutal hills had sapped their rivals, they seemed to relish the tough nature of the course. Their early aggression was rewarded with a lead and from there all they had to do was hold on.
Towards the end, Schomburg’s style became almost like that of a salsa dancer as his head and hips swayed with every step. Through the pain, he forged on, even moving ahead of his Hungarian rival.
On the last lap, though, Dévay struck back and kicked clear. The roar he released as he crossed the line said everything about what his silver medal meant.
Knabl managed to out-duel Henseleit to seal 4th place in his best performance of the season. The young German, meanwhile, embraced the support of the crowd and enjoyed his 5th place having broken his toe only a few weeks prior.
The man of the day, though, was unquestionably Pearson. His swim fired as well as it had all year while his bike and run splits were nothing short of superlative. Even when he could have eased up on the run, he remained relentless. It may have been the hint of fatigue but with his high-turnover style, Pearson looked like he was falling forward into each step. Either way, it was rapid.
To borrow from Buzz Lightyear, as he rattled down the final hill and approached the finish line, he was falling with style.
You can view the full results here.
