Saturday, November 08, 2014

No No No My Darling Vuelta, Don't Go Kissing Froomey's Butt! #savethevuelta

Tiiiiiiime Is On His Side (But It Shouldn't Be): First we're talking about *shortening* them--for which some repugnant eejit already oughta burn in an eternal flamin' pool o' hellfire--*now* we're talking about screwing with the *course* of the fabulous Giro and Vuelta? Yes, the organizer of the fabulous Vuelta a Espana himself has apparently offered to toss in a wholly flat 40k Froome-bribing time trial, just because you-know-pain-in-the-!@#-who bitched about all the hills in the race and implied he'd be more likely to ride it if it was plotted out his way. !@#dammit Froomey you preening prima donna, stay the hell out if you don't like it, you're already gonna be going up against a Giro-tired Alberto Contador at the Tour, what the hell more you do want, that they !@#$in' knock the Lagos de Covadonga down to rubble so Purito can't bother you? You like time trials--we get it. So do I! But for heck's sake ride a freakin' Grand Tour where the flat ones matter then, am I the only one who remembers the damn debacle the last time even the Tour de France caved to these solo-speeding babies by building a whole course around one schmo? *No*, I repeat *no* changing this glorious and underrated race for one freakin' sore-loser whinger--Save the Vuelta!

Runnin' With the Devil: and, an extremely fond farewell and wishes for good health to the incomparable Grand Tour-hounding Devil--no no, not Lance Armstrong, the smashing trident-wielding but now retiring Didi Senft, who so awed me when I came upon him at the Giro d'Italia back in the day that I was too much of a star-struck nerd-dork to even approach him, much less be ween enough to ask him for a photograph. From the Giro to the Tour to the Vuelta, he's been the man to see on the mountainsides, I guess along with whoever happened to be racing that year, a dashing annual antidote to the horn-hatted screaming Speedo-dweebs tackily torturing cyclists and fans alike for the cameras. Grazie Merci Gracias Didi--you'll be so much missed!

Mountain High: meanwhile, huge kudos to the stalwart riders and staff of Tinkoff-Saxo, most of whom (including new hire Ivan Basso, who says they "crawled" up the thing) made it to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro for their first official team-building exercise, reportedly with the loss of only a few easily-replaceable neo-pros bought cheap for the upcoming season. Next: having scaled the peaks, Oleg Tinkov sends 'em all on a free-swim down to some boiling deep-sea thermal vents, where the sulfurous gasses and bone-crushing water pressure is apparently really good training for the lungs. Enjoy the trip kids--and I hope you all make it back to the surface in one piece!

Mama, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cyclists: finally, congrats to this year's leading contender for the Most Frightening Cycling Photo Ever, NetApp bad-!@# Barstozs Huzarski, for this battle-worn selfie from the Tour de France. No *wonder* this image is so disturbing--the self-tanner goes all the way *up* the leg, big guy!

No comments: