Monday, August 11, 2008

You *Suck*, CAS!

How Many Tries Do You Get to Come Up With a Valid "B" Sample?: oh, dozens apparently, as the incredible garbage-validating dissembling !@#$-up lab apologists over at the Court of Arbitration for Sport rules that it's fine to send a rider's umpteenth negative sample to Mars and finally back to a lab you like again so long as you ultimately come up with a bull!@#$ Z sample positive that puts the stamp of approval on your initial incompetent lab-chimp monkey work, as long as it's Iban's, or justify any other ludicrous miscreant screw-ups that'd be tossed out of any other forum (as long as it's Landis'). Dammit! If Iban Mayo--who frankly is fragile enough psychologically when he's *winning* races, much less when he's just been totally !@#$ed and his career has ended--doesn't go into a total downward-spiral drug-fueled Pantani over this I'll be shocked. And before I get any crap from anybody again about how I'm a soulless pro-doping tool-o'-cycling-destruction (though it might be nice to have the power), these are the narcs' own freakin' rules, and if they don't like 'em, they're perfectly free to demand a firing squad for the first A sample poz they get, but somehow even these vicious clowns thought it might be fair to confirm an initial positive result before they sent the offending rider down the 8th circle of hell to cavort with similarly heinous criminals like serial killers dog-abusers and Dick "Dick" Pound. And let's face it, if Iban walked right up to the start line at the bottom of the Alpe d'Huez, jammed an IV into his arm with a bag clearly labeled "MY PACKET O' DRUG-PUMPED HOMOLOGOUS BLOOD DOPING", and proceeded to leave the rest of the field in the dust, he'd *still* be least of this disgusting sport's problems. Free Iban dammit--particularly when you're letting the *rest* of the Spanish peloton zip around scot-free!

Oh For !@#$%'s Sake, Not *Again*: as the gleam has barely faded from Samu Sanchez' bitchin' gold medal in the road race--and to the sure delight of embittered tifosi everywhere still hyperfocused on the injustices of Italian drug busts--Spain once again claims its true place in cycling: yep, the Olympics' first doping poz, by hometown nimrod road-rat Maria Isabel Moreno. Y'know, let's leave aside the morality bull!@#$ and how you're probably gonna turn into a man someday like that German shot-putter from all the crap you're taking and how you're setting a pathetic example for all the eager admiring little girls pounding along on their sweet pink Treks with images their Olympic heroine on their walls: the more salient point, to my mind, is, you're a freakin' Spaniard with freakin' Spanish access to the phenomenally sophisticated best-in-the-world Spanish doping infrastructure and you *still* couldn't get it right? What kind of ludicrous amateur-hour shenanigans are they paying you for, Maria? Um, not to suggest there's anyone among your countrymen you might want to call for some good pointers, but...

Loser Pick o' the Games: okay, it's clearly gonna Fabian, Fabian, Fabian, or Fabian for the time trial, but with Schumi completely stoned from the heat, Cancellara having wiped himself out a bit with a bronze he never anticipated, and the Americans humiliated back at the ol' team car grabbing a Twinkie while the rest of the peloton made its decisive mood in the road race, I'm gonna pick Levi, with Zabriskie in the top five, and for my Aussie posse, I'll put even our damaged cranky but so very darn earnest Cadel right in there. As for the women, I may actually get it right for once with Armstrong, but then again, having picked her, you may reliably (and profitably) place your bets elsewhere. Break a leg (not literally if you please) Levi!

Me And You and a Girl Named Blue: meantime, as the Italian team continues to celebrate its silver (Rebellin) and bronze (Guderzo), congrats to mamma Daniela and the whole Lampre family as yet another little shining star is brought into the world: Alessandro Ballan's spankin' new baby girl, named, quite perfectly, Azzura. Any bets on what year our twee little hell-on-wheels'll take her first national championships? Forza (Squadra) Azzura!

Better Red Than Dead: finally, in a non-cycling development that may yet have profound implications for our beloved if mildly tainted sport, researchers have found that refs go easier on red-clad athletes than on other ones. Just think of the handy and glorious implications should current rogues like Petacchi Boonen and Di Luca head for such fashion-forward teams as Cofidis and Barloworld! "Better take another hit, Alessandro--you're breathing pretty hard with 50 m to go!" "Another line, Tom?" "Is that an IV in your arm, Danilo?--I'm sure that crimson stuff is just saline!"--the possibilities are endless! And do I ever know this great source for nutritional supplements off the internet...

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