Get the Hell Outta There, Alberto! Wiggo Plays Nice! Lance Plays Dirty! and, It's the Strade Bianche, Baby!

Ole' Ole', Ole' Oleg!: Okay, Alberto, you greedy little prima donna, you've got wingnut team boss Oleg Tinkov's cool approval for now: he ain't makin' any calls about your performance in the Tour de France, he *is* optimistic for yer chances at Tirreno-Adriatico. Take what you can get at this point, honey! Unfortunately, despite the outraged denials of a certain rider's agent, and Luca Paolini's descriptive emoji twit-dismissal of recent rumor-mongering, Tinkov seems a lot hotter on 4 million euro prospect Peter Sagan, which means if he *is* gonna pony up to break all kindsa contractual hoo-ha, you can effectively call your team supremacy--hell, relevance--at Tinkoff goodbye. If you can't pound Froomey at the Tour Alberto, you better get out while the getting's good--and perhaps be ready to get out after Tirreno!

Wiggo Plays Nice: well, nice-ish, anyway, as admits to some post-Tour discombobulation and vows to "help" Chris Froome all he can this year. Uh, I don't know if you remember, Froomey, but if Brad is going by *your* definition of "help" during *his* winning year, I think you're pretty well !@#$ed. Unless attacking your own team leader, openly deriding him in the press, and generally acting like a total impatient backstabbing wanker are "helpful"--well, don't say you weren't warned!

Ugh, Lance, *Again*: yep, even besides the usual charges of disgusting cheating 'n' extreme toolishness which have surrounded our hero of late, there's even more scandal a-risin' with the latest wave of Lance Armstrong books, with good-guy Wheelmen author/intrepid journalist Reed Albergotti reportedly saying that Lance or his minions contacted his bosses at the Wall Street Journal to try to get his !@# fired, apparently over some bothersome "truth" that got in the way of Lance's image and, even worse, his own dazzling self-worship. !@#$, Armstrong, where's your class--you coulda just gone to the WSJ offices and personally cornered 'im outside the toilet like you did with ol' Tyler Hamilton!

It's the Strade Bianche, Woo-hoo!: and finally, there's lots of actual racing going on this weekend, with the beautiful Strade Bianche and the beginning of unsung super-domestique-but-leader-in-his-own-right Richie Porte's defense of Paris Nice. What to see on the white roads in Italy: not freakin' much, thanks to the damn (yet hallowed) dust, but it'll be a bangin' race, with we love BMC's (omigod! BMC???) Samuel Sanchez, Cadel, Sagan, Wiggo, Cav, Valverde, Cancellara, and defending champ Moreno Moser all on hand. Me, I'm actually just stoked to Samu' back in action again, especially since I'm traumatized enough as it is by wishful thinking every time I see Wiggle-Honda's Euskaltelian orange-and-black team kit. Good luck gents--and Peter, you can start proving yourself and your salary demands to Tinkov now!