Fallen Angel: The Passion of Fausto Coppi
By William Fotheringham
Yellow Jersey Press £16.99, 283 pages
FT Bookshop price: £13.59

Sport’s epic dimension is under pressure as decision-makers look to follow cricket’s example by embracing television-friendly, quickfire formats. Next month, though, should remind us just how gripping the best long-form sport can be, when we come to that gruelling trek around some of Europe’s most scenic landscapes: the Tour de France.

Fausto Coppi won the Tour twice – in 1949 and 1952. Yet, half a century on, this peasant farmer’s son from an obscure village in north-west Italy remains one of the biggest heroes of the great bicycle race. Fallen Angel, an admirable biography by Guardian sportswriter William Fotheringham, explains why his memory has endured.

First, there is his action-packed life story. This comprised a rags-to-riches rise, albeit interrupted by war; a tragic love affair with a doctor’s wife, which brought him into high-profile conflict with Italy’s Catholic establishment; and a wretched early death, at 40, from malaria, contracted in Africa. This was prefigured by the earlier death of his brother Serse, another cyclist, after a seemingly mundane racing crash.

Second, there is his reticent, enigmatic demeanour. Coppi was not unique in this. Fotheringham quotes a knowledgeable observer who believed most cycling champions of that time were similar. “They were peasant boys with the peasant’s instinct for caution, thrown into a bizarre dog-eat-dog world where ... they were surrounded with people whose aim was to deceive them.” But this behaviour has added a frisson of mystery and a mythic quality to his name.

Finally, of course, there is his sublime cycling – and this is where Fotheringham really excels. In one of the book’s best passages, he pinpoints why Coppi was such an important figure for his sport: he was a disciplined, methodical moderniser. This applied to anything that might affect his performance, be it equipment, diet, training, using the subordinate members of his team effectively, or simply scouting the course. Fotheringham notes: “For a one-day event, he was prepared to inspect the final kilometres up to 20 times over.”

Stimulants were not banned until five years after Coppi’s death, the author notes, and were also part of his story. “There are plenty of instances of doping involving Coppi”, Fotheringham writes, “enough to underline that amphetamines of various kinds were ubiquitous at the time”.

A couple of factors beyond his control further underpinned Coppi’s fame. The first was a rivalry with Gino Bartali, which could be compared to that between British middle-distance runners Steve Ovett and Sebastian Coe a generation later. The second was the timing of his ascent to cycling’s pinnacle – he also won the Tour of Italy and the Tour of Lombardy five times each – which enabled him to become a symbol of Italy’s post-war rebirth.

As with the lives of so many top athletes, Coppi’s melancholy journey from poverty to superstardom is a cautionary tale of the price of fame. Fallen Angel tells this story with diligence, flair and erudition.

David Owen is the FT’s former sports editor