A team from Bayerischer Rundfunk was there. The ratings-hungry RTL or Vox, on the other hand, didn't turn up. Florian Ohnesorg (27) shrugs his shoulders. That's just fine with him. After all, the triumph that brings him a tiny bit of fame is of a serious nature and not one of those rubbishy titles from the fringes of meritocracy that fill the Guinness Book of Records year after year. German champion in courgette growing, world record holder in kebab eating, all the cup-winning absurdities that the makers of the early evening Gaga programmes lick their fingers for.
"My title has nothing to do with that," says Florian. He knows the irritated looks on people's faces when they hear about the European Bike Mechanics Championships. After all, it's not something that is reported on the current affairs programme.
"European Cup of bicycle mechanics" is written on the glass trophy. It looks a little puny compared to the aristocratic sound that surrounds the word European Champion. And the accompanying prize, an air pump, could have come from a raffle table. "That's as good as it gets," the editor of the Münchner Merkur chipped into the keyboard, not concealing the small number of participants from just four countries. Nevertheless, the article reads like a report on a dramatic sports competition.
"There's a photo of me waiting for the result to be announced. You can really see how I'm suffering. A real nervous wreck," Florian wipes the virtual sweat from his forehead. He pauses for a moment, dozens of anecdotes want to spill from his lips at the same time. Which one should he start with? The sentences finally pour out of him in a cascade. How he scored top marks in the very first discipline - "Changing a Gates belt plus shift lever service and cable change on a Rohloff Speedhub". How he then came under pressure from the strong Swiss rider in discipline six - "fitting and bleeding a Magura MT7 disc brake". And how, after eight disciplines, he was finally crowned the winner to thunderous applause from the spectators. With 157 out of a possible 160 points. A blissful smile spreads across Florian's lips. He knows that the reward for winning is not the trophy and certainly not the pump. It is the great opportunity to lead the life he has been dreaming of for years.
Ingenried in the Allgäu, 900 inhabitants, pointed-roof houses, a church, surrounded by fields and peaceful landscapes. It is what romantics call an idyll and free-spirited people call a cow village. Florian is one of the latter, but it is his home village. Years ago, he tried to move away - after school, when he wanted to become a Eurofighter pilot in the German army. But the longing for home was so overwhelming that he cancelled his training, Florian explains. He ended up studying mechanical engineering and then began an apprenticeship as a retail salesman in a bike shop. A first, timid attempt to combine his hobby and profession. Doomed to failure, of course. After all, it was the screwing that made the flames of passion crackle inside him. Which is why Florian immediately followed it up with an apprenticeship as a two-wheeler mechanic. He would never have dared to dream that people from distant cities would one day come to Ingenried to have their bikes repaired by him. Last week, someone travelled all the way from Stuttgart. A two-hour journey by car. Just to bring a defective shock. The magic of the trophy.
"I still can't believe it," says Florian, gazing into the dark depths of the room that is currently his workshop. Antique, rusty tools hang on the walls, forming an interesting, morbid contrast to the brand new precision utensils that are otherwise lying around. To get started immediately after winning the European Championship, Florian first moved into his late father's old tinsmith's workshop. "Flow Bikes" is written on a sign next to the entrance, which is actually a garage door.
"There aren't many walk-in customers here," says Florian and lets a fully whir upwards in the electric assembly stand. A short time later, the shock is dismantled into all its nasty individual parts on the shiny work surface. No ECG beeps. But you can't help but think of Grey's Anatomy, the surgical soap opera.
There are job titles that sound like expertise, responsibility and several years of university study. Front Desk Experience Manager, for example. Which is actually just the hipsterised version of the word "swimming pool cashier". And there are professions that sound like simple, crude carpentry, even though they are highly complex in nature. Bike mechanic, for example. Anyone who specialises in the bicycle sector during their three-and-a-half-year apprenticeship must be dexterous, but above all must know complicated physical relationships, material properties and installation standards inside out. Modern mountain bikes are diva-like high-tech speedsters that require meticulous handling. A single overtightened screw can have disastrous consequences. In addition, there are more and more electronics on bikes, which is why the job title has now been changed to "two-wheeler mechatronics technician".
"Some people claim to be more of a practitioner," says Florian: "That's actually a bad thing. Before you install a bottom bracket, you should know exactly which one fits. Everything else is a mess."
Florian first heard about the championships, where the best mechanics are determined each year, during his apprenticeship. "Practical performance competition of the German skilled trades" is the name of the event at the end of the journeyman's examination. The participants have to solve tasks at six stations, which they are only told about before they start. It's about time, but also about things like precision and cleanliness in the workplace. The event is regarded in the industry as the German championship for two-wheel mechanics. The best trainees from all federal states compete, with the two winners going on to the European Championships. Florian was the clear winner. He had been reading installation instructions into the night for months beforehand. Those table-cover-sized leaflets that come with every package to explain the installation of - for example - the Shimano FD-M591 front derailleur model to the buyer. Florian has folders full of them. He files away every manual he can get hold of. One wonders whether it is due to the remoteness of Ingenried that a young person like Florian reads instruction manuals in his spare time. Out of desperation, as it were. A rattling laugh echoes through the workshop:
"Rubbish! I'm really interested in this." It's all a question of attitude.
Florian sensed that the European Championships were his big opportunity, perhaps the biggest he would ever have, as soon as he entered the huge exhibition hall in Brno, Czech Republic, where the competition was being held. And perhaps, he believes in retrospect, a higher power was directing the event. The day before his departure, a mate had asked him to change the gear cable on his Rohloff hub. Florian had no idea how to do this, but was eventually able to solve the problem.
"And what did the competition involve?" asks Florian, only to have the answer immediately blurted out in the finest showmaster style: "Changing the gear cable on a Rohloff hub! It's almost scary!"
Might make a nice story for RTL or Vox. If they ever run out of courgette world record holders, they can get in touch.
JOB INFO
Job title Two-wheel mechatronics technician
Duration 3.5 years
Qualification Repairing, maintaining and assembling bicycles - if you like working on bikes, this is the job for you. A secondary school leaving certificate is enough to apply for an apprenticeship. The profession of two-wheeler mechanic was changed to two-wheeler mechatronics technician in 2014, as electronic parts are increasingly being fitted to bicycles: gears, damper controls and even auxiliary engines.
