Yes, it's nigh Thanksgiving in the US, that beloved celebration of family, food, and disastrous colonialism when we all gather together to have luxurious meals and--oh, right, if we're not complete superspreading tools, we're all stuck in our own homes, pretending that a 20-minute Zoom call that keeps getting interrupted by your partner shouting for you to come look at the turkey like *you just did thirty seconds ago*, and a glum, half-!@#ed dinner alone in our sweatpants in front of a football game with no fans in the stadium and a stationary, truncated Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade to start off the holiday season isn't completely !@#$ed. Anyway, we're here, we've survived (I hope) so far a terrible year, and it's time to reflect on what we *do* have to be grateful for this bizarre Thanksgiving. And surprisingly, there's fair near buckets!
1. On a serious note, no-one in the peloton died of COVID. A bad handful of cyclists got sick, and we dearly hope they get 100% better with no lasting effects, but--whew. And for those Grand Tour police escorts, team staff, hotel workers, and anyone else connected with the sport who got it--we wish you the same.
2. Holy crap we actually had three Grand Tours this year!
3. EF's crazy-!@# acid-trip Tour de France jerseys and terrified-duck-head time trial helmets. Wasn't it nice to have *that* as cycling's biggest scandal for a while?
4. Julian Alaphilippe's premature celebration at the line at Liege-Waffle-Liege. C'mon, that was funny!
5. Speaking of which, we've got World Champions! Alaphilippe, Ganna, van der Breggen, Dygert. May you fly the stripes in health and happiness next year!
6. Peeps into cyclist's home set-ups during those weird months of virtual racing. Lovely terrace with incredible mountain views that make you question your own pathetic life choices? Check. Living room in front of the TV? Check. Grim cement basement gulag? Got it. Kids wandering in and out to pester Mommy or Daddy while they were full-gas towards the line and to show off for the cameras? Yup. A fanboy/girl/person's dream!
7. On a related note, Mikel Landa taking a freakin' axe to his stationary trainer, a perfect metaphor for 2020. And be honest, who *hasn't* wanted to do that? Get this boy back to his home Basque *roads*, stat!
8. Fabio Jakobsen is back on his bike after his horrific crash at the Tour of Poland. And forget scapegoating Groenewegen: race organizers, there is still *plenty* of time to fix this barrier bull!@#$ ahead of next year!
9. Tweeps. In a total !@#$show of a season, the couchpeloton helped keep us all sort of togetherish. Grateful indeed!
10. I miss Kittel racing and all, but geez, doesn't he seem happier now?
And a Few I'm Damn Well Not:
1. Okay, the Classics were !@#$ed. Come back, Paris-Roubaix!
2. Gianni Moscon. How does *this* clown have a contract next year and *so* *many* incredible--and more importantly, not unforgivably assholian--cyclists do not?
3. CCC. I'll miss 'em. Oh well, at least my heart won't leap with misplaced joy every race 'til I realize they're not Euskaltel!
4. Evenepoel cheerfully touting losing 5 kg of nonexistent 'baby fat' after Lefevere bullied him for his weight earlier in the year. Can we please lay off the pressure on these riders to develop full-blown eating disorders?
5. Last, but never, ever least: WHAT THE !@#$ NO EUSKALTEL IN ANY OF THE GRAND TOURS HALF THE SPRINTS WERE LEFT OUT THIS WAS PERFECT MOUNTAIN HELL TERRAIN FOR THEM YOU CLASSLESS INGRATE FREAKS!
Welp, on to nail-biting late-contract negotiations, brief respites, inevitable Masters doping busts, and body-crushing pre-season team camps. Thanks to both my loyal readers, and thank !@#$ this year is almost done!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment