Monday, January 17, 2011

It's Back to the Races, Baby!

Aussie Aussie Aussie Oy Oy Oy!: yes, cycling fans, after a long winter's layoff of rest, relaxation, and ludicrous doping appeals, it's the moment we've all been waiting for: we're back in business at the fabulous Tour Down Under! Sure, Armstrong's gonna hog all the press coverage for no reason, but for my money, what really matters is, who's taking the big game in the battle between Mark "the Jaw" Cavendish and BFF Andre "!@#$-Race" Greipel? Me, I'm sad to say the winner's clear, though Greipel can always hope that Cav'll get himself relegated by some spectacularly unnecessary act of wankerness and then still mock him for weeks for not even deserving the win. Oh, Cav, so young, so raw--where's the vicious finesse of a Robbie "Head-Butt" McEwen when this sport needs it?

Signed, Sealed, Delivered--I'm Hosed!: well, Contador, good luck with that appeal to CAS, 'cause the righteous protectors of due process over at UCI have already overruled any Spanish attempts to free your doe-eyed cow-doping carcass by declaring you the inevitable winner of a two-year ban. Way to keep the illusion of justice going, UCI! Y'know, if he *didn't* dope, you guys are just pathetic political frauds too cowardly to protect your once-beloved Next Lance Armstrong from an unfair result while you desperately look for another scandal-free pretty-boy to cover you with second-hand glory. And if he *did* dope, you've once again lost all your credibility from the one time you *didn't* act like rider-snuggling sycophants by tainting what should be a just proceeding with your venality. Can't you guys go back to doing something really dignified, like gutting the careers of hard-working third-tier unknowns for taking an illicit Advil for strained groin muscles?

You Suck, Tour de France!: all right, so Tour organizers ASO are indicating that Team Geox--home of 2008 Tour de France winner we love Carlos Sastre, and, much as it galls me to say it, that also-deserving Vuelta-thieving stealth-ferret Tour podium-finisher Denis Menchov--isn't gonna get an invite to the Tour de France this year, not because of anything having to do with Geox's stellar pedigree, or Sastre and Menchov's obvious qualifications to ride the race, but because, basically, French teams, despite some individually noble work by a coupla natives in recent years, blow, and it'd hurt their effete pate-slurping feelings and make the French look lame by not inviting them. What?! This is the Tour de France, not some pansy-!@# Barney the Dinosaur feel-good self-esteem exercise for uncoordinated helicopter-parented toddlers !@#dammit! If you want French teams to get a spot at their own damn Tour, then suck it up, let the French guys who aren't biting teach the squads some lessons, and make 'em earn their place like a big-boy squad. Free dear little Carlos you selfish goons!

You Suck, Schlecks!: meantime, bad enough that I actually like the Schlecks, and frankly would forgive them damn near anything short of puppy-kicking because Jens Voigt deigned to go with 'em, but now they've earned my undying enmity by smack-talking about Carlos Sastre and essentially calling him a complete troll. Wah, wah, he expected you to work for 'im--why didn't you guys settle it on the road if you could have taken him out and bagged the 2008 Tour so easily? Needless to say, I am exceedingly irked that now I have to actually root for Menchov to come up behind you clowns like a Predator drone and take out your Tour-win dreams in a blaze of sizzling sauteed unimaginative-team-kit spandex. Look, Andy--remember that you haven't actually done this yet?

Nut-Kneeing Heartbreak o' the Week: finally, this win's for LL Cool Sanchez, who's already denying to the Spanish press that he had recent, hot'n'heavy contacts with infamous Operacion Puerto and Op Galgo perp Dr. Eufemanio "Gyno to the Male Stars", and indeed never knew the man at all, which, given that if I'm not on crack I seem to recall him and a passel of fellow Liberty Seguros cribmates cheerfully receiving mystery skin patches from close Fuentes pal Manolo Saiz, seems both blindingly stupid and breathtakingly implausible. Fine, so Contatwerp goes down for Clenbuterol--you *have* to go down for a mere dipwad lack of discretion in doping providers? Aiiiggghhhh!

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