Janine Anquetil died at the age of 96, Sunday morning in Calenzana, near Calvi, at the end of a life of races, victories, pain and celebrations, too, since the widow of Jacques Anquetil – who died in 1987 , at 53 years old – was known as a bon vivant at the Château de La Neuville-Chant-d’Oisel where the evenings stretched from Friday to Monday.
Jean-Christian Biville, friend of the couple, former pro runner at Mercier and former photographer for L’Equipe, remembered, a few years ago, the “extraordinary review leader” of this little group of friends, a platinum blonde, stunningly beautiful with her black headband cinching her gold helmet, who was more than the wife of the five-time winner of the Tour (in 1957 then from 1961 to 1964). “A holy woman,” Lucien Aimar confided last summer to L’Equipe. Janine was at once the computer, the programmer, the educator, the lawyer. In fact, she was the teacher of his life. »
“I found myself in a dressing gown and underwear in the street. We took the train to Villefranche… It was crazy”
Janine Anquetil at the time of her “escape” in 1957 with Jacques, her future husband
The ritual of the Norman, double winner of the Giro (1960 and 1964) never deviated once the race was over: the cycling aristocrat took out his comb, fixed his hair and called Janine, whom he had stolen from his personal doctor from Rouen, even kidnapped, in the literal sense of the term as she explained in Vélo Mag: “I found myself in a dressing gown and underwear, in the street. We took the train to Villefranche… It was crazy. A madness that at no time have I regretted. It’s strange, sometimes I think: ”but why did he come into my life?” And, the next moment, I thank chance for having put him on my path. »
She protected him from the wind behind her little car
Or it was the opposite as this daughter of a manager of the Rouen football club was her point of balance, essential, even if, in a documentary (“Janine Anquetil, the blonde lady” by Gérard Courant), she admitted that their first meetings were frosty: “I didn’t like him very much because he complicated my life, he arrived at impossible times to get treatment. (…) We had to stand at attention for Mr. Anquetil. I think that’s always how it starts (laughs).”
What followed was a fusion (“I was very lucky, I always followed Jacques because he imposed himself on me everywhere”), bumpy at a time when wives were confined to the shadows, to the house. “Nanou” had taken on the multiple roles of confidante, manager and steward, she protected him from the wind behind her small car during the outings of the nine-time winner of the Grand Prix des Nations, she closed his suitcase for him, drove him to the criteriums , reserved restaurants and hotels, she answered the mail, shouted to him, with a megaphone, her passing times during her attempt at the world hour record in 1967 on the Milanese Vigorelli velodrome (not approved because it refused to submit to doping control), Janine’s best memory.
Refusing to be considered “as a burden”, she boosted the morale of her hypersensitive and superstitious man, often at the risk of annoying: “It was frowned upon, people said that he was going to ruin his career, that he wasn’t going to win when it was the opposite.”
“The kidnapping” having taken place in April 1957 (they were married on December 2, 1958), a few months before his first victory on the Tour, the sports directors did not hesitate for long, they had understood that “it was better that I be present,” even more so when doubt assailed her.
A family life considered “iconoclastic” at the time
Raphaël Geminiani, her husband’s sports director, had made her “(s) our ally in this type of circumstance”. Crazy about her, to the point of having him delivered a diamond brooch during his first Giro (in 1960) the very moment he entered the track (“he was a gallant, delicate, reserved man” ), Anquetil had shown himself to be a caring father-in-law with Annie and Alain, Janine’s children, born from his first union.
But his desire to become a father in turn led to a family life considered iconoclastic at the time and which, today, would probably cause a real scandal. Since Janine could not become pregnant, it had been decided, behind closed doors at the family, that Annie, just eighteen years old, would bear the child of the Norman champion, her father-in-law. Their daughter Sophie, born in 1971, recounted this menage a trois, in 2004, in the book “For the Love of Jacques” (by Grasset), describing “a story of happiness” and how “a woman, for love of her man, offers her his daughter. Which, out of love, gives them a child.”
The family sphere ended up exploding when, in the Château des Elfes, in Normandy, Anquetil extended the intimate circle by settling down with Dominique, the wife of Alain, Janine’s son…
Installed in Corsica, the latter awakened, without resentment, the memories of a tormented and mischievous champion, the opposite of the image he sent, false-dilettante and truly anguished by death – both the small and the big – that the “Blonde Lady” was trying to appease. His funeral will be celebrated Thursday morning at the Casazza de Calenzana.
To his family and loved ones, L’Équipe presents its most sincere condolences.
