Yes, the Vuelta a Espana has been consigned to the When the !@#$ is This Denis Menchov Insult Moratorium Gonna End dustbin o' history, and as Joaquin Rodriguez sics his agent-goon squad on a gigantic new salary increase, and Cav revels in his well-won green jersey, it's time for our awards show:
Leapin' Off Your Couch Screamin' at the Top o' Your Lungs Moment o' the Race: no contest, Igor Anton's hideous race-ending insta-crash-out that irrevocably changed the outcome of the whole entire race. Sure, your upstairs neighbors maybe thought you were hoarding 45 mangy tomcats in simultaneous heat and called the Humane Society emergency hot line on your !@#--but could any portion of the Vuelta be more worthy of being the neighborhood freak-show curiosity as shrieking sirens pulled up at your house?
Redemption Song o' the Vuelta: yes, only a day after Igor (and Egoi)'s spirit-slappin' abandonment, Mikel Nieve takes it up for the Orange Army with a smashing stomping solo breakaway up the feared Cotobello. Right on Euskaltel--now bow before your masters, you worthless peloton peons!
Class Act Award: Oh, Tyler Farrar. With all the time you spend talkin' up your teammates, who would ever even know you'd won a stage, much less the hotly-desired final sprint into Madrid? Better, you do it without the simultaneous sprinter bragfests or whining fits we've all come to expect from--um, nobody. Like a breath of fresh air, without the traditional Salbutamol after-taste!
The Cue the Hitchcock Psycho Shower Scene Music Award: yep, this one's for Ivan Basso (shower) and Vincenzo Nibali (psycho), as Nibali's DS is already touting him as the Liquigas man for the future Grand Tours, and he and Ivan are apparently getting along famously as mentee and mentor, at least til your faithful Giro superdomestique calls bull!@#$ and drops you like a hot coal on the slopes of an hors category beastmaster at next year's Tour de France. Should've copped to that Op Puerto "attempted doping" earlier, Ivan--you mightn't've lost quite the same primo years as you did when you finally 'fessed up!
Things That Make You Go "Hmmmm" Trophy: okay, admit it--you felt an uneasy twinge about 34-year-old Mosquera, too. But for me, I choose total denial, so the winner is 36-year-old Alessandro Petacchi for his, well, highly unusual late-season surge. Of course, there's a very fine history of career-finale power blasts in cycling, so one ought not to cast aspersions--just ask Davide Rebellin! Oh, wait...
The Where the Hell Did That Come From? Prize: while Yauheni Hutarovich's stage 2 sprint snatch was a close second, this is for Slovak stealth star Peter Velits, who not only whacked Fabian Cancellara in the time trial, but is the first of his ilk to win a Grand Tour podium spot and is, if not the showiest of fighters, certainly the most surprising. Give that child a raise next year--and Grand Tour GC contenders, keep your eyes open!
Catastrophic Woof Prize: Oooooooo, this one just plain hurt to watch: nearly-inevitable podium-finisher Joaquin Rodriguez losing not two, not three, but over four agonizing podium-thieving minutes in the time trial. Contador excepted (and no, I'm certainly not suggesting anything), what the hell *is* it with the Spaniards and their time trialling the last few years? I mean, it's not like they can't beautifully improve their performance in other areas, right Valverde?
You Can't Touch This Award: no, not Nibali, or even Rodriguez or Mosquera--dear little Carlos Sastre, who failed to take a stage but did grind himself down into quite a respectable top ten overall in his third Grand Tour of the year. More, with the writing clearly on the wall, he gladly gave his own worker bee Xavi Tondo leeway to ride his own race to sixth. Watch and learn, even though it's way too late, Armstrong--it might've come in handy for your own teammates this past July!
That Ain't Good Trophy: when an entire Grand Tour peloton starts looking like the fish-dinner food-poisoning hurl-a-thon from "Airplane!", and sprinters are announcing their pre-and-post-race yack-ups as casually as they'd brag about their wins, you know it's time to dive for the hotel-room bathroom with 18 rolls of toilet paper and a week-long supply of Pepto and Reader's Digests. Congrats to about 40 of you boys--at least you got something outta this Vuelta besides stomach cramps!
Crash o' the Race: the worst and grossest? Yep, win-stripped bloody Igor's. But the most frightening? Undoubtedly poor Theo Bos', as he scared the !@#$ out of himself and his squad with a terrifying straight-on smack into a roadside race moto but fortunately emerged almost unscathed. Geez, how can their moms and dads bear to watch this stuff?
Punk-!@# Move o' the Vuelta: y'know, it gacks me no end to say this--particularly since I'm already in deep mourning that my adored "JJ & Jens & Fabian & Stuart" tote bag is extremely likely to be out of date within a few weeks--but Fabian, even if Bjarne *is* a wanker, there's no need to take it out on the likeable Brad McGee by bailing on the squad with nary a word when you'd promised to at least finish off the stage before entirely reasonably leaving for the Worlds. Look, you arrogant clowns, amazing as you are, you get paid disgusting amounts of dough to RIDE A BIKE--try that crap on your probable post-cycling career as a Fryolator jockey at McDonald's, and you are *fired*!
Wah, Wah, Wah Award: finally, due to the cold, harsh, and in fact entirely cruel Two Week Rider Insult Moratorium on Mark Cavendish, I can't peep a single darned word about not only a multitude of comments to the press over the last three weeks, but this one either. So all I can say is, sincere congratulations on your exceptionally well-done Green Jersey win, Bi--um, Buddy. Dammit!
Well, that's the prestigious Racejunkie Vuelta Awards for this year--tune in next week when Joan Rivers and a bunch of pretentious rag-trade prisses you've never heard of weigh in on the relative merits of Lampre ballerina-wear, Liquigas' eye-scorching acid-trip green, and Euskaltel's perfect Halloween costumes on the E! What the !@#$ Is a "Vuelta"? Fashion Review! As to our Win Free Stuff Contest, congrats to third-week winner "Thor"--and Cadel Evans, enjoy your Two Week Rider Insult Moratorium while it lasts!
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3 comments:
Cav is a wank.
RJ hardly paid me anything to say that.
Isn't it nice to have Tyler to cheer for?! When watching the TdF in France I saw him on TV giving his interviews in French. He also had the Transitions commercial "Je suis Tyler Farrar"...very cool!
When we bought a Wii, my daughter had me make a couple extra Mii's....Tyler Farrar and Tom Boonen. She is always thrilled when they are cheering her on during a game. I think I'll make her a Cav Mii too....I saw some "George Michael" facial hair that will work. Not sure how to make him be a poor loser in the Wii games though.
Sigh. Only a fortnight's rider insult moratorium? Cav's worth more than that!
He's gorgeous, he's honest,he's fast and he's (and I'll stop following this sport if he ain't) clean.
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