Mortal Kombat: total bull!@#$ giving Martin Elmiger--for whom I was even rooting, so for once in the 8 years of this blog-rag I'm actually being fair--the Most Combative prize over Jack Bauer. He at least was able to put a whack into Elmiger in the end--can we at least give this poor sobbing guy a nice embroidered hanky or something?
Adventures in Interviews: yep, it's been pretty dramatic on the road out there, but for once it's also been equally entertaining in the pre- and post-race rider interviews, particularly the best one so far held yesterday: the journo asking Andre Greipel if he'd talked to Sylvain Chavanel since the "incident", and a murderous-looking (or perhaps he was happy, hard to tell the difference) Greipel just going "NO." Brevity is the soul of...well, deciding *not* to go back a few days later and rip the other guy's legs off! Meantime, in "Things Not to Say to the Press," let's give the weird stuffed animal thingy to race leader Vincenzo Nibali, who when asked about any connection to notorious doping doc Michele Ferrari, said he'd never met him "personally." What, so your soigneur personally met 'im a dark alley behind a shady internet pharmacy or some !@#$?--just say "no" and leave it, do you *want* the narcs to stick you full of more spikes than a hedgehog you eejit?!
Mime is Money (or Not): look, Sagan, you've got a bangin' palmares, and you are still very young. But damn, will you *never* learn any tactical sense? You can't rely on wheelies and batted eyelashes forever, boy!
Meditations on the Maillot Jaune: I'm pretty sure I've never seen Vincenzo Nibali actually breathe, at least on a freakin' mountain climb. He must have gills somewhere. Oh, that's right, he *is* nicknamed the Shark after all!
Kind Gesture o' the Alps: Tinkoff-Saxo's Rafal Majka dedicating his very first pro win ever to departed team leader Alberto Contador--not just because it was so self-effacing, but because it would look *really* bad for Tinkov to have Alberto whacked right now!
The Resurgence of Frank Schleck: yeah, just *tell* me you're not equal parts heartened and freaked out by how well big bro Frank is riding lately. Liar! Note to Papa Schleck: even so, and particularly considering poor Andy's season, you might not want to yap to everyone that the boys are better off retiring than riding for a Pro Continental squad next year. Unless you *want* 'em working for an elite team in exchange for laundry duty and an occasional euro for the soda machine!
Cough Drops: in addition to the usual disgusting intestinal bugs that seem to going around--or at least grabbing serious discussion and screen time when some sorry afflicted s.o.b. has to commandeer an innocent bystander's camper trailer to handle it--half the rest of the GC contenders, specifically Tejay Van Garderen and Sky backup-plan Richie Porte, were stuck gacking their way through the high Alps with chest infections. May the rest day give you a chance to recover, if nothing else so you can pound Valverde (but not dear Purito) in the Pyrenees!
Karmic Justice: so Alejandro Valverde sits there suckin' off a suprised and disappointed young Thibaut Pinot's wheel and faking an inability to help, then whips around him like a total wanker--and the next day, Valverde accuses Pinot of touching his wheel and screwing up his gears so badly that he loses precious time on GC. I think this sweet kid is learning already, Alejandro--might want to stay outta his way from now on!
Clap Along If You Feel Like a Room Without a Roof: holy crap, I don't care if he *does* have the likely winner of the TdF to his credit, in all his triumphant erratic nutjob years in professional cyclist outwitting (and outbloodbagging) the best of the most amoral, I swear I have never seen Alexander Vinkourov so outright smiley. Am I the only thinking he needs a specialized sports physiologist/trainer to help him there so the muscles of his face don't explode? We still love you Vino you bastid!
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