BREAKING: Tom Pidcock recovers from puncture to take gold in mountain biking

Unbelievable that the French booed, just goes to show, even after a puncture at least the french rider was complementary

Yes tom .. cheering you all the way . Wow all the way and you took that gap and went … It broke him then .. but it was down to the wire .. puncture and all .. congratulations Tom that's the way to win GOLD and remain the champ .. you deserved it .. can see deep down your really choked .. let it all out my friend when you're with those who care 👏👏👏👏👍💯🇬🇧🍻

Just watched the end of this. Didn’t know he’d had a puncture! Legend

Was some race that, definitely deserved the gold medal

Winning gold against a backdrop of French boos. Does it get any better than that?

Tom has just pulled off the unthinkable to cement his role as the UK's greatest Olympiam of the last 20 years

Thanks for letting us actually hear and see tom

well done Tom, the French booing after the lad who fought back from a puncture says all you need to know about them.

Booing an Olympic Champion is despicable. How much worse can the French possibly make these Olympics? Well done Tom and I hope you go on to garner a lot more medals over the years!

I'm French! The French people who booed Tom don't know anything about cycling… It's a real shame ! Our journalists don't play fair and are incapable of accepting Pidcock's superiority ; he was a leg above everyone else.
Tom's victory is fully deserved and his move to overtake at the end of the race was quite simply amazing. Tom makes a much better Olympic champion than Victor who only had to be more aggressive knowing that Tom's puncture had already helped him. You can be proud of your champion and hats off to Tom!
Congratulations

Nice one Tom 👍🇬🇧

If you're gonna post the news on YouTube, maybe include video footage of the actual news!?

Great race. Well done Tom.

Given that awful opening ceremony, it figures the French are a bunch of sore booers.

great spoiling title. ffs

Viva la up yours France 🇫🇷 😂😂

Good lad! Never say die

Good fighter, this Tom Pidcock. I couldn't bet against him even though he abandoned the TDF bcos of covid😮

Superhuman!

Don’t post a video about it when there’s not a video of it

It's France, so I can only imagine what a "ding dong battle" consists of.

I remember the day vividly, and not because it was a beautiful summer morning in New York City. It started with an innocent breakfast of street tacos – cheap, greasy, and ultimately treacherous. I was halfway through my usual bike ride around Central Park when I felt the first ominous rumble in my stomach.

"No big deal," I thought, trying to push through. But the gurgles quickly became a full-blown stomach revolt. Sweat trickled down my forehead, not from the exertion, but from sheer terror. I needed a bathroom, and fast.

I pedaled like a man possessed, my eyes darting around for any sign of relief. The first restroom I found had an "Out of Order" sign taunting me. The pressure in my bowels was now a full-blown emergency. Every pedal stroke jostled my stomach, threatening to unleash a catastrophe. The sweat on my back turned cold with fear.

I spotted another restroom near the lake and raced towards it. As I got closer, my heart sank – there was a line of tourists. Waiting was not an option. My body was betraying me, and I was running out of time.

I took off again, zigzagging through the park, my vision tunneling. The pressure was unbearable. I could feel the inevitable disaster inching closer. I finally saw a café and bolted towards it. As I dismounted and tried the door, it was locked. "Restroom for customers only," the sign mocked.

Desperation clouded my judgment. I considered ducking behind a bush, but Central Park was teeming with people. The thought of getting caught mid-squat was too humiliating to bear. I resumed my frantic ride, my mind a blur of panic and self-preservation.

And then it happened. The dam broke. There, in the middle of Central Park, surrounded by families enjoying their day, I lost the battle. The initial relief was quickly overshadowed by the mortifying realization of what had just happened. Warmth spread through my shorts, followed by an undeniable, awful drip down my legs. The smell hit me next, a nauseating confirmation of my worst fear.

I stood frozen, face burning with shame as I felt the sticky mess leaking down my calves and into my socks. I could see the horrified expressions of people around me, some covering their noses, others pointing and laughing. The stench was unmistakable. My legs felt like jelly as I slowly mounted my bike, the squelch in my shorts a cruel reminder of my predicament.

The ride home was a new level of torment. Every pedal stroke spread the mess further, the slick, uncomfortable sensation adding to my misery. The smell was unbearable, a cloud of shame that followed me every mile. People I passed gave me wide berths, their disgusted looks searing into my memory.

When I finally made it home, fifteen agonizing miles later, I stumbled into the shower, fully clothed, trying to wash away the shame and stink. My legs were coated, my socks ruined, and my dignity in tatters. The whole ordeal had left me a broken man, forever wary of street tacos.

But it wasn't over. My friends heard the story, of course. They laughed until they cried, dubbing me "Poopy Pants Pete." Now, every time we ride through Central Park, they never let me forget it. The story of my infamous ride has become legend, retold at every gathering, ensuring my shame lives on forever.

And so, I learned the hard way that sometimes, no matter how prepared you think you are, life has a way of humbling you in the most public and smelly ways possible. My advice? Always know the location of the nearest restroom and avoid sketchy street food before a long bike ride.

Tom is a cheat typical English