pro cycling

Rob Hatch: commentary Ninja

Watching a bike race involves conjecture.

We make assumptions and deliver tactical manoeuvres on behalf of the riders. We do this with great authority, from the comfort of our settee, a range of drinks and snacks within our wingspan.

We wonder why rider x hasn’t attacked. We are bemused by rider y’s meek surrender of the wheel in front, on a 20% cobbled climb, two-hundred kilometres into the bike race.

We rarely make the wrong tactical decisions.

If only we’d paid more attention at school and bothered to learn a language (or five) we’d be getting paid to analyse bike races like Eurosport’s Rob Hatch.

Consummately professional.

A commentary Ninja.

Embed from Getty Images


As the peloton barrelled towards a second ascent of the Kemmelberg at the 2019 edition of Ghent-Wevelgem recently, we had an on-board shot from the Jumbo Visma team car. Instructions were being calmly delivered to the riders, via radio, out on the course.

In Dutch, presumably.

I dunno, I thought to myself, bemoaning my lack of commitment to learning Dutch as a young boy, summat about Van Aert?

Hatch stepped in to sooth my furrowed monolingual brow.

“OOOhhhhhhh!” he said, in that excited half growl that he has, “Wout Van Aert is looking good…the team are being told he has free reign to attack on the Kemmelberg …we are about to get fireworks!”

Not only can Hatch speak all the languages but he can convey the current race situation – time gaps, tactical manoeuvrings, likelihood of Niki Terpstra just riding away from everyone – through nothing more than the cadence and tone of his delivery.

Seven seconds later the race hit the foot of the Kemmelberg. Wout Van Aert looked good. Wout Van Aert attacked. Zdenek Stybar was with him, the duo captured in a wonderful side-on camera shot as they pushed the power through their pedals…

…and other words beginning with ‘p’.

Perfect positioning…pyrotechnics from the pair of them…pummelling the peloton…you get the idea.

Embed from Getty Images


Eventual winner Alexander Kristoff came into view, latching on to Van Aert and Stybar as they caught him post-Kemmelberg, having dragged his huge frame maniacally up the slope like a hod-carrier getting paid by the brick.

We understood that if he got over this, the final berg, in a good position, he might gobble up the remaining twenty-odd (flat) kilometres and contest a ragged sprint for the win.

Which he did, all muscle, a brutish finish into a headwind.

Rob Hatch’s diligent translation and dramatic delivery had pricked up our collective ears, and dragged our attention away from gawping and swiping our collective smartphones to ensure we didn’t miss a key moment in the race.

This is essentially the job of the modern day sports commentator: make the viewers look up from their phones. 

(I still recall, syllable for syllable, Hatch doing exactly that to me during stage eighteen of the 2018 Giro d’Italia:He’s lost the wheel…oooohhhhh, and Yates is in crisis!” He bloody was in crisis too, as it turns out!)

The finale of Ghent-Wevelgem saw a selection of normal sized cyclists play cat and mouse awhile before Kristoff, a giant of a cyclist, set up the sprint, led out the sprint, and then won the sprint.

All guesswork taken out of the equation. Any conjecture rendered moot. Hatch preparing himself for the post-race interviews – in fluent Norweigan, naturally.


(Microphone image: via

11 comments on “Rob Hatch: commentary Ninja

  1. Rob Hatch is in a class of his own.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. While Carlton Kirby continues to out-Duffield David Duffield, Rob Hatch is the voice of reason.

    Liked by 1 person

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  6. Brucethestrife

    Who wrote the above plaudit on Rob Hatch? Sheree, are you his mother? Hatch aggravates to the point of switching the sound off. He comes across as a pretentious pseud. His heavy emphasis on any foreign name or place is nothing more than a vain attempt to make us believe he really is a linguist – we can all order a cup of coffee in five languages. I, and a few others I know, think he’s a total fake. For example, it’s not Ganna, according to Hatch it’s Ga-nnaa, with an emphasis on both syllables. I could bore you with lots of similar examples. I understand Nibali put him right regarding the correct pronunciation of his name. He makes me cringe with embarrassment that I’m even watching (not listening) to Eurosport. If the tennis wasn’t on Channel 24 I’d be watching that. Bring back Liggett, and resurrect Sherwen. Come off it Hatch, how about having the courage to put some of the negative comments on your website. It’s clearly yours as you have the words ‘Follow me on Twitter’ above.


  7. Great Rob, you have practised how to pronounce the names! The big problem is , no one in UK has a clue what you are saying! We pay to have an English commentary not an Italian one. Many of the foreign names have English pronounciations that we can understand. Just heard Hoowayvoh (who is that?) Absolutely spoils the racing!


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