He was such a team player that his only two professional victories were won with the team: the team time trial in Brugnera in 1982 (in the Famcucine-Campagnolo with Moser, Torelli, Masciarelli and Amadori) and the team time trial at the Tour of Switzerland in 1985 (in the Carrera-Inoxpran with Breu, Chiappucci, Perini, Ghirotto, Bordonali and Rossignoli). The other victories, many, very many, were those of his captains: from Gimondi to Basso, to name two, from Bitossi to Zilioli, to name two others.
Glauco Santoni had learned teamwork in his family: "Second of seven brothers and six sisters, total thirteen, plus the dad, a bricklayer, and the mom, a jack-of-all-trades". In Villa Verucchio, about twelve kilometers from Rimini, with other teams: "School, up to middle school, and the town band, five-six years, me on the trumpet". Until between school and band, he chose the bike: "To move around, there was nothing else. We didn't have a car at home". Glauco was fourteen years old: "Cycling alone or around with friends, then in a society. From a small warehouse, they pulled out a very used bike. Don't ask me the brand, I don't remember, I didn't look at it, or maybe it wasn't there anymore, faded by time and scratched from use". The first race? "In the area they organized small circuits. Cesenatico, Gatteo, Bellaria... It ended with a sprint. And in the third race, third place. It was 1965, that day on TV they were celebrating Gimondi's victory at the Tour de France, and I would never have imagined that one day I would race with him and for him".
Cycling was Disneyland: "At home they didn't obstruct me, and when I could, I would still go help my father at the construction sites. Especially since some results were coming. Every Sunday was a beautiful celebration. I had no thoughts for tomorrow, what arrived was a gift. And the passion multiplied". Until he turned professional: "It was a different world, more difficult, another world. Few teams, each team formed by ten-twelve riders, only the strongest, and all riders raced all races, and almost all raced to win, and all races, even those called minor, were no less than 250 kilometers".
Santoni was a good climber-rouleur: "My task was to stay next to my captains. So, a race at the front. I held on, didn't give up, if I had to pull I pulled, if I had to chase I chased, I stayed with them as long as I could, then I continued and arrived nearby, also getting some placements". Third in a Giro dell'Emilia (1976), fifth in a Coppa Placci (1982), fifth in a Giro dell'Appennino (1980), sixth in a Tre Valli Varesine (1980). Also in stage races: sixth in a Giro di Puglia (1980), sixth in a Giro del Trentino (1981). "Racing to help is not like racing to win. And it doesn't teach you to win, indeed, when perhaps a possibility could be glimpsed, I no longer even noticed the right moment".
There were always the captains ("Gimondi who would look for me even after we had stopped racing, Moser who was, let's say, more exuberant..."), training companions ("Vandi and Savini, almost neighbors"), training rides ("Montefeltro, Val Marecchia, Carpegna before it became Pantani's climb, but it was tough, we did it occasionally"). Eight Giri d'Italia, four Tours and a Vuelta ("Tougher the Tour, because of the heat, because of the different way of racing, everyone was flying"), Sanremo and Lombardy ("The most beautiful Sanremo for the champions, a kind of yellow, the Lombardy tougher, at the end of the season"). There were always the climbs ("Never did Gavia and Mortirolo, but Stelvio yes. And Gran Sasso was certainly no less tiring"), sometimes the snow ("At Trentino, at Tirreno-Adriatico..."), often the bonks ("Sooner or later they happened to many, if not to all. Once a hunger crisis hit me, we were in central Italy, I attached myself to an advertising van, doughnuts, I devoured them until I regained energy"). And the water bottles: "Zilioli asked me to stop and get him a drink. Where?, I asked him. At a bar, he said. I don't go to bars, I replied. And Zilioli never asked me again".
Santoni left two wheels for the ten of a truck. A team player, always. So much a team player, Santoni, that even now, at seventy-three years old (today, January 19, his birthday, congratulations), he rides his bike in a group: "Departure from a bar, several friends, then the young ones charge ahead, without respect, and since I don't want to break my neck anymore, we others let them blow off steam and go ahead at our own pace".
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