Y'know, between testifying against Lance Armstrong, slogging through army exercises at team camp, desperately cutting deals with prosecutors, and oh right, riding their bikes, the peloton's worked darned hard this fine 2012, so to thank 'em for all their hard work, and to bring them the effervescent joys of the holidays, I hereby present to Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and anyone else who brings free stuff my Very Merry Festivus Wish List for the Peloton:
Tom Boonen: A fifth. Paris-Roubaix, I mean. Make it a fifth Hell of the North for our daring hardman on his flying machine!
Joaquim Rodriguez: First in the ProTour. Second at the Giro d'Italia. And oh, *so* achingly close at the Vuelta! Purito, a Grand Tour must be yours! Dang, I guess you better get a ProTour contract first though...
Katusha: speaking of whom, a ProTour license. Why should only the dirtbags at Astana and RadioSkank get invited to the party?
Andy Schleck: the 2013 Tour de France. Because heck knows only an imaginary guy in a furry red suit could possibly get it for him at this rate!
Peter Sagan: a big, green jersey with "Tour de France" in huge letters right on the front. Why paint your silly *bike* in podium colors when you can just cut right to the chase with the actual *kit*?
Alberto Contador: duct tape. 'Cause if anyone you ever worked with starts yappin', and you don't slap it on their kissers but quick, you're scr@#ed!
Mark Cavendish: sure, he's still the best sprinter on earth, but Renshaw's still gone, and Cav sure does love him some sprint train. A tough-as-nails domestique with an iron-clad 10 year contract--what better security blanket could he ask for?
Cadel and Thor: drugs, man. Cutting-edge drugs. No, not to dope with--so they don't get knocked out all next season with some crap virus again! Oh, come on, surely all the usual peloton pushers can come up with *something* helpful from their scuzzy sources...
Marianne Vos: !@#$, what *can* you give someone who's already outright taken everything for herself? I hereby invent and bequeath you a Women's Vuelta and a Women's Tour de France next season, so she can try winning a trophy she hasn't already gotten!
Brad Wiggins: you remember that cool invisible plane that Wonder Woman always tooled around in? Yeah, but an invisible suit of armor around his bike--'cause if he rides the Tour de France, he's gonna need it for when Froome tries to bushwhack his wheelset with a flying musette next year!
Phil Liggett: shut up. I still love him. Stuff it! So I can't continue to see him live in pain. Santa, bring this dear man a just *little* cynicism, so he's not so easily hurt by a doper-idol next time!
Chris Horner: so now Lance isn't guilty because he never tested poz? I swear, those weird chemicals in all the fast food he's eatin' must be affecting his brain. An organic diet and a Whole Foods gift card, pronto!
Pat "Dick" McQuaid: nuts. The nuts to step down. The nuts to admit you were a pathetic, star-struck, vindictive, hero-worshipping toady who damn near destroyed the sport you purport to love just to bask in the reflected glow of B-list celebrity for one who didn't deserve an iota of what you or anyone else so eagerly gave him. Nuts for Pat, I say!
Lance Armstrong: A big, fat, lucrative book deal about your career, and the methods you used to make it. The catch: everything you write has to be true, and all the proceeds go to Paul Kimmage. Now grab yer tablet and get to writin'!
Last But Not Least, My Dear Reader(s): May your favorite cyclists win every race they aim for, unless Samuel Sanchez wants it. May your favorite rider be ever-clean. May your favorite squad grab the team classification at every Grand Tour. May Lance block you from his Twitter feed, Sir Wiggo grant you a castle, Cav keep his mojo, Contador go veggie, Cancellara start winning again, Tommeke never stop winning again, and your idol throw an empty spit-covered water-bottle right at you at the Tour of California.
So Happy Festivus to all, and to all a good night!