For Now, That Is: yep, the verdict is in: Alberto Contador is officially banned from the sport til he hits puberty next year, and if he doesn't give Andy Schleck back the maillot jaune nicely he has to go straight to bed without any dessert. Burn! I gotta say, though, I *am* quite sad. If he tested poz 'cause he doped--zero sympathy. But if he *didn't* dope, and is getting busted over some stupid zero-tolerance policy that doesn't even consider whether someone did anything actually wrong, it's a year-long waste of a brilliant talent. And while both options suck, I'm sorry to concede--and I feel your pain here, dear reader PJ--it may well be option A at work.
Oh, and y'know that scene in "Alien" where that giant gooey face-sucker glommed itself onto some poor sap and rammed its tongue down down his throat until a little alien spawn burst out of his stomach in a big pile o' guts and went skittering across the floor? Yeah, that, except now Andy Schleck sez that whole slutty make-out scene with Contador on the Tourmalet was totally staged and not a truly authentic expression of his love at all. Oh, like post-break-up disses even *count*, Andy--and that's *before* you heard the news today!
As to Contador's threat to quit the sport if he's found guilty--no word yet, but I imagine his (1) manager-brother Fran or (2) attorney is tyin' his scrawny little bod to a chair and dope-smackin' him out of *that* righteous hallucination as we speak. The official word: due at Contador's press conference on the 28th. Screw that "I'll retire" bull!@#$--"I've made a principled decision to fight on," anyone?
Finally, let's take one last look at our wee little hero in his glory days, before the Spanish cattle association, the Schleck brothers, Denis Menchov, Pat "Dick" McQuaid *and* (worst of all) Alexander Vinokourov have a chance to go all hired-goon on his pretty, doomed !@#:
Alberto, we hardly knew ye!