Coppi’s latest masterpiece. Italy put him on trial, yet he triumphed

Seventy-two years ago today, Fausto Coppi won his last major race. It wasn’t his final victory, but it certainly served as a fitting culmination to his extraordinary career. 31 October 1954, when the in-between seasons still existed. It’s raining in Milan. A blanket of low-hanging clouds had settled over the whole of northern Italy, discharging that light drizzle where you never know whether to open your umbrella and, whilst you’re thinking about it, you’re already soaked. It’s not fog; that happens when the sun is shining. But here, not even a trace of sunshine. Damp, slippery roads. The Giro di Lombardia, the last major Classic of the season. A gruelling race, by definition. Two hundred and twenty-two kilometres to cover, one hundred and twenty-seven riders competing. The Heron’s wings might be a bit damp, especially as, at 35, one begins to wonder how many tricks he still has up his sleeve – a man who has already won the Giro five times, the Tour twice, a World Championship and the Giro di Lombardia four times. Not to mention everything else, and the way in which he achieved it.

Yet there is something that could weigh down the Campionissimo’s legs. And it has nothing to do with his rivals, who include the great Fiorenzo Magni. Spectators lining the roadside no longer see him simply as the greatest of them all. Yes, that image still endures. But ever since Fausto Coppi has been the subject of more than just the sports pages of the newspapers, ‘Il Airone’ has ‘also’ become the man who had a clandestine affair with the ‘Dama Bianca’.

This is Giulia Occhini. Her nickname stems from her appearances alongside the cyclist, dressed in a light-coloured overcoat. Her presence attracts the attention of journalists and fuels public curiosity. The matter, however, is not confined to mere gossip. In an Italy where adultery is still a criminal offence, the relationship takes on legal and moral dimensions. Coppi and Occhini became the central figures in a story that laid bare the conflict between individual freedom and social conventions. Their story divided the country. Some condemned the champion, believing he had betrayed his family, whilst others saw the persecution of the couple as a sign of a society incapable of accepting personal choices that deviated from the norm.

The two had met for the first time at the 1948 Tre Valli Varesine. She was the wife of Dr Enrico Locatelli, a great cycling enthusiast and fan of Coppi. Fausto had married Bruna Ciampolini in 1945, and Marina was born in 1947. But from their very first meeting, the champion’s heart – famously beating at just 40 beats per minute at rest – had devoted part of its bradycardia to Giulia. He and Bruna separated by mutual consent, but no such consent was forthcoming from Locatelli. The doctor from Varano Borghi sued his wife for adultery when he learnt the truth. However incredible it may seem today, Article 559 of the Italian Criminal Code states (or rather, stated) that: “An adulterous wife shall be punished with imprisonment for up to one year. The adulteress’s accomplice shall be punished with the same penalty. The penalty shall be imprisonment for up to two years in the case of an adulterous relationship. The offence is punishable upon complaint by the husband”.

For the record, in a markedly different social climate, following two rulings in 1968 and 1969, the Constitutional Court declared the provisions of Article 559 to be unlawful, thereby removing the offence of adultery from the Italian criminal code. A week after the conclusion of the 1954 Giro, Fausto and Giulia left their families to go and live together at Villa Carla, in Novi Ligure. On the night between 25 and 26 July 1954, the Carabinieri, accompanied by Locatelli, raided the villa, but failed to catch them in the act (sic). They returned on 9 September and this time arrested Giulia Occhini for adultery. Initially taken to Alessandria prison, she was released four days later with an expulsion order and placed under compulsory residence in Ancona, at her aunt’s house, with the obligation to sign in at the police station. Coppi’s passport was confiscated.

The trial took place in March 1955. The verdict was a foregone conclusion: Coppi was sentenced to two months’ imprisonment for deserting his marital home, whilst Occhini, who was pregnant, was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment. However, both were granted a suspended sentence. Coppi and the ‘White Lady’ went on to marry in Mexico, although that marriage was never recognised in Italy. On 13 May 1955, Angelo Fausto, known as ‘Faustino’, was born. The baby was born in Buenos Aires – an essential condition for him to be given the surname ‘Coppi’ – as Locatelli, who evidently had not accepted the situation, refused to renounce paternity.

But all this, on 31 October 1954, was yet to happen. It was under the weight of the scandal, the allegations and an Italy that judged him even off the track that the ‘Campionissimo’ tackled his Lombardia. Starting and finishing in Milan, the race heats up on the slopes of the Ghisallo. Robic struggles, whilst Cleto Chiarlone comes to the fore at the front, managing to gain ground. Behind him were Aldo Moser and Fausto Coppi. The trio crossed the Ghisallo and stayed together on the descent, made treacherous by the rain. Behind them, Fiorenzo Magni made his move. His attack was fierce and he closed the gap on the breakaway riders. At Seregno, 24 kilometres from the finish, the three leaders were caught. Everything was back in the balance.

Coppi built his legend by breaking away on his own, just as Pogacar does today, many kilometres from the finish line. Trapped in a bunch sprint, however, he is more vulnerable. But there is no longer any terrain to give him a chance to break away on his own; the road is now completely flat. Il Lombardia will be decided in a sprint. The riders enter the Vigorelli. Walter Serena is the first onto the track, followed by Magni, Coppi and all the others. It’s time to take a risk. Coppi launches a decisive attack. Albani tries to follow him, whilst De Rossi and Magni settle in on his wheel. Coppi reaches the front going into the final bend. Magni pushes harder, attempting to close the gap and looking for a gap to overtake him. But the ‘Campionissimo’ holds his ground. He gains a few metres; Magni has nothing left.

After 5 hours, 51 minutes and 33 seconds, Fausto Coppi won the Giro di Lombardia for the fifth, and final, time. Fiorenzo Magni came second, Mino De Rossi third. ‘The Heron of Castellania’ had won four times in a row from 1946 to 1949. But this victory was different from the others, and not just because of the great champion’s personal circumstances. There was no classic breakaway launched from afar, that unique way of forcing his rivals to keep up an unsustainable pace. At the age of 35, up against younger rivals and after a difficult day’s racing, it was still he who crossed the finish line first. It was proof that greatness does not equate to a single form of superiority. There are also victories born of endurance, of adapting to the fact that, to win, it is not enough simply to repeat what has worked in the past.

That day, in Milan, Fausto Coppi wrote the final chapter of one of cycling’s greatest stories with a victory unlike those that had made him immortal. And he did so at a time in his life when, away from the races, Italy had come to realise that the ‘Campionissimo’ was, after all, just a man.