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The topic of Nicolas Geay

                 Who is                       For Laurent,
            Nicolas Geay ?
                                              How to find words? Derisory anyway. How to tell the pain from
Nicolas Geay ‘s Grand Sports Reporter         where I am. Everyone reacts personally to grief, to death, whet
service of France Télévisions which he        friends or a little less close. I have been sad for three days. I cri
joined in 2004. It covers Stade 2 and         him. About Andrea. About his parents, his young brother, about Ar
Tout Le Sport cycling , triathlon and         Pierre, Fred, Emmie, Carole, Jess and the others... Tomorrow, ther
regularly conducts surveys . Since 2011,      won’t be there. Stuck in Paris. My heart in Sète. With them.
he also comments on cycling races and         I also think about our last conversation. One month ago on the p
especially the Tour de France on the          the Games. He told me with his accent, his sincerity, that he wa
bike. Nicolas commented triathlon at          threatened by doping, that he hoped David and Vincent would suc
the London Olympics with Frédéric             succeed in London: to bring back a medal... And other stuffs, more
Belaubre . Passionate about it , he also      On Tuesday, I pulled up, despite me, the report that we had done
played thirty triathlons , including a dozen  To see him again training, smiling, ambitious, strong... and so frag
Half Ironman , Ironman Nice and was the       time, I saw again the images of the Games. He was just in front of h
finisher in 2006 Embrunman                    in arms», his brother at all, writing one of the most beautiful pages
                                              history... To create these images to dedicate him this «Tout le S
                Nicolas Geay                  strange... to think that he was gone.
                                              I’m writing these lines but once again, I don’t want to steel anythin
             Jacvan@all - rights - reserved   to lie. We had spent some very good moments together. I was fo
                                              than a journalist, not a friend, no, but a relation of confidence. H
                                              him. A lot. Anyway. When I read Nikola Karabatic’s Twitt, affected
                                              the death of Laurent, I thought about this moment that we had sp
                                              the Tour in Montpellier. Privileged, simple...
                                              How to find words with this sadness and those tears? For three day
                                              Renaud, as I often do when life fools us. And I listen looped thes
                                              friend Coluche: «I hope at least that from up there, there are a lot o
                                              with the dogs, with the bad guys, the stupids under the sun which
                                              less far...» Lyrics which takes even more sense when I’m writing
                                              written on the night of the terrorist attacks on November 13th).
                                              So how to find words? To tell what we feel and who he was, in any c
                                              A good person. Beyond the sportsman, the extraordinary champio
                                              guy. In the common sense.
                                              And we will miss him. Infinitely. And on August 18th and 20th
                                              microphone, I will think about him. About them and her, in the
                                              also I am sure. He will be there, with them.
                                              This is it... It was the hardest, the saddest, the most sincere chronic
                                              are moments when words are so hard to find... So, I prefer hidin
                                              let him write his pain, his angriness and his sorrow. Tonight, his
                                              mine: «I hope at least that from up there you have bought a bike.
                                              godfather anymore, we don’t have our best friend anymore... Bast
                                              we are all orphans, fucking truck, fucking destiny, yes it sucks...»

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