It's Yer 10 Cycling Things I'm Thankful For This Thanksgiving (And a Few I'm Damn Well Not)!

 Okay, for those of us in the U.S., Thankgiving is a day to share a joyful meal, discreetly leave the room to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade when Aunt Progressive and Uncle MAGA get into a screaming fight over vaccines and microchips, then keel over in front of (American) football while pretending to be too engrossed in giant goons causing each other grievous bodily harm to remember to not be an ill-raised pig to get our !@#es into the kitchen to help with the cleanup.  Oh right, and to celebrate all the things we're thankful this year!  So, in the spirit of mixed joy and simmering hostility that characterizes the holiday, It's Yer 10 Cycling Things I'm Thankful For This Thanksgiving (And a Few I'm Damn Well Not)!

1. Euskaltel.  Sigh.  Need any more really be said?

2. Simon Clarke's thrilling Stage 5 Tour de France stage win.  Give ICA all the crap you want for being a two-wheeled retirement home, but *damn*, that was good!

3. Puck Pieterse.  I know this isn't a 'cross blog, but !@#$, didja *see* her last weekend?  Plus having the coolest name in the peloton.  You go, little sister!

4. Alejandro Valverde. Sure, he's a dirty, cheating s.o.b., but hey, who *hasn't* made a little mistake incredibly frequently over a truly astonishing period of time?  Anyway, he'll be back!

5. Cycling Twitter. So long as that !@#$wit doesn't kill it entirely in his megalomaniacal folly, it's still here today!

6. Sonny Colbrelli. Yes, he was forced to choose, if you can call it that, between retirement, or removing his life-saving defibrillator. And his press conference was truly gut-wrenching.  But he's staying in cycling, and his ginormous and well-earned new Paris-Roubaix tat will always remind him of one of the most fun wins in cycling we've seen in years.  Forza Sonny--a campione on the bike and off!

7. Fabio Jakobsen's Comeback.  Shut up, you were so either crying.  In fact, you're !@#damn crying right now. Aw rats, now so am I--somebody hand me a freakin' handkerchief!

8. Rogla.  No, I don't know what's in the water over there lately at Jumbo-Visma, either.  And for those of us who actually lived through the bizarro Killer Bee Craze of the 1970s, their kit frankly still gives us the heebie-jeebies. But he's so dear.  Let's just enjoy the illusion while it lasts, shall we?

9. Marianne Vos. Yes, I *know* it's all about AVV this year.  But this multidisciplinary goddess is still the cyclist against whom all others will ever, in all human history, be measured.  Looking forward to your Roubaix win next year!

10. Fine, the Women's Tour, which is still too short.  Now bring on a three-week women's Giro and Vuelta, dammit! 

And a few I'm damn well not:

1. Pat Lefevere: Slagging His Own Riders Since 1955.  There, you've got yer personal brand--now shut the hell up and treat Alapanache with some respect!

2. What the !@#$ is this Nairo Quintana-Going-to-Bahrain-Victorious bull!@%$ I'm hearing?  !@#$ !

3. Time Trials.  It takes a lot--a *lot*--for me to taken issue with our beloved Giro d'Italia in anyway, anyhow, anywhy, or anywhere, ever.  But so many TT kilometers in in 2023 that our dear Mikel Landa is afraid to ride it, thereby setting him up for likely I can barely stand to say it top-o-the-podium heartbreak in Paris?  Bring me an Aperol Spritz, pronto--hell, bring me the whole damn bottles!

All right dear reader(s)--most of all, I'm thankful for all of you.  Now bring on the turkey hangover!

It's Yer !#$% It, a Time Trial Basically Counts as a Rest Day, Right?: Vuelta a Espana Rest Day Roundup!

 All right, it's been an intriguing and often beguiling start to this year's Vuelta, with everyone damn near sobbing with joy over--well, why waste time on the intro, when we can just get right to it? Anyhow, here's the state of the race:

1.  Gesink. Yes, you too teared up with good-sportsmanship vibes when Jumbo predictably bagged the opening team time trial and Rogla made sure that everyone loves Robert Gesink, who sure earned it with those monster pulls, took the inaugural red jersey.  A nice reward for a selfless career!

2.  Rogla. Considering he *just* crashed hard out of the Tour, he's coming quite nicely back into form, isn't he? Oh, sure, Evenepoel's got a week and a half on the rest of the field, but even without Sepp Kuss to haul you up the even meaner mountains to come, anything can happen and most usually does!

3. Covid.  !@#$, like *9* guys just out *today* with covid?  What the !@#$'s with the protocols?  Then again, 21 stages, two countries, a coupla dozen hotels, giant entourages, and fans screaming a millimeter from yer face for 4000 meters uphill, really, what could go wrong?

4. Sam Bennett.   Speaking of which, that *sucks* that our dual-sprint-snagger got taken out right when he was looking superb for the final green jersey in Madrid.  Chapeau to perpetual class act Mads Petersen, now in green, for a class (temporary) farewell to a fierce competitor.  Well, if it can't be Bennett's, I'm glad it's Mads'!

5. Jay Vine. I *know*, I *know*, Zwift.  Like you'd've been paying attention if we hadn't all been so starved for even virtual cycling action the last coupla years.  Still, translating that into two giant mountain triumphs--pretty impressive, whippersnapper!

6. Valverde.  Oh, he's been pretty quiet so far.  But don't you think he's gonna pull off one final stage to delight the fans enrage his detractors and probably hose one of his own teammates?  *That's* why everyone loves Bala!

7. Mikel Landa.  First, shut the hell up, you faithless heathens, you know who you are.  Didja see he won Most Combative when he burned it up on that big breakaway?  Right on Mikeeeeeeeeel--and we know you're *really* just saving it all for the third week!

8. Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!

9. Enric Mas.  I bet you didn't think he'd be in second right now, did you?  Me either, or you're just way-!@# smarter than me.  Contador had his eyes on him since the start, though!

10. Yates, man. Full of surprises.  He'll be even more surprisingy if he doesn't crack spectacularly on at least one day coming up, you think?

11. Evenepoel. I admire a blazing ride as much as anyone, but if nothing about Evenepoel's absolute rocket ship of an individual time trial today didn't at least mildly freak you out, this has gotta be your first rodeo, amirite? Learned my lesson when my beloved Heras started pulling that !@#$.  In any event, it sure was a biiiiiiiiiiiiig margin over a pretty short course.  I'm sure it's just the aero kit!

All righty, there's yer roundup. Tomorrow, one for the sprinter.  Looking forward to it, Mads!

It's the Vuelta It's the Vuelta It's the Vuelta! a Espana in Preview, Part Dos: the Contenders!

Okay, we got the course down, but who's here to contest the race? Well, Nairo Quintana's sure not, via late announcement after first getting the UCI's blessing to start, and the notable silence of Arkea-Samsic which just re-signed him, so he can fight his entirely unwarranted discipline for entirely unintentional Tramadol use at the Tour de France, entirely coincidentally on giant mountain stages where one could reaaaaaallly use its impressive pain-numbing (if not so much its dizzying and nauseating) effects.  Good luck with that--but hey, folks've gotten off for a lot worse!  *Anyhoo*, there's still lots of solid prospects in the race, even without him and the newly-crowned Tour de France champ.  Oh, and I don't know what the hell's been going on with we love Mikel Landa's "muscle injury," but first, the entire planet can !@#$ right off, and second, we still have faith, even if he doesn't, for a podium placing *after* his home stomping-grounds stage win.  So who else's on tap for GC? These 'uns!    

Primoz Roglic: Yeah, he's injured, and I'm still baffled for the massive amount of !@#$ he took for retiring from the Tour de France after plowing through half a dozen stages and supporting his teammates while *fractured.* That said, he's back on the bike, and uncertain form or not, he is freakin' Rogla, and while I'm honestly dubious about him taking the top top spot and, say, less dubious about Domestique-o'-Death Sepp Kuss getting the go ahead for team leadership, I'm convinced that if he gets through the first week unscathed a top 3 is not outta the question.  As usual, I'll be rooting for the biggest losing cause here.  Go Rogla!

Richard Carapaz: no, I can't !@#$in' stand 'im. Yes, I can begrudgingly acknowledge he may do very, very well.  And also be a wheelsucking sandbagging whinemaster the entire way to Madrid.  Ugh, do I *have* the podium ceremony if he's on it?

Remco Evenepoel: Well, Pat Lefevere's already thrown him under the bus, which, though par for the course for the head of the Wolfpack who *just* smacked around World Champ Julian Alaphilippe for heck's sake, means Evenepoel's either wilting already under the weight of diminished expectations, or mentally out to kick his !@#.  The high passes'll tell us which one!  

Jai Hindley: Count him out if you will--because heck knows the mountain-happy Giro-Vuelta duo is a leg-killer--but he did grab a Grand Tour absolutely no one expected (you either, liar!), and for that alone, we can't count him out.  But add sweltering August heat to crushing Basque mountains, and the Vuelta's its own particular kind of delightful (for us) hell (for them).  But wouldn't it be nice if he beat expectations? 

Joao Almeida: He's young, he's hungry--and he says his legs pretty well suck.  But while Covid took him outta the Giro, he did have a pretty stellar comeback to the second spot at the Vuelta a Burgos.  Plus, there's a lot being 24 can make up for, particularly if you get the leaders' jersey to give you that little extra oomph.  Aw, c'mon, you want him to do well too!

Miguel Angel Lopez: Astana's a freakin' train wreck right now.  Oh Vino, I *told* you not to let the Izagirres go!

Simon Yates: last but not least, Captain Yo-yo--who, after all, has bagged this smashing Grand Tour before--is if nothing else gonna give us a spectacularly gut-wrenching show of incredible surges, astonishing stage finishes, and monstrously record-breaking cracks.  Cripes, can you just *pick* one already--I'm getting seasick here!

Oh, and for stages, I'd love that wily old codger Alejandro Valverde to take one last win here--and yes, it'll make me feel *dirty.* And yeah, you know I don't want to hear any crap about this--aupa Mikeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!

It's the Vuelta It's the Vuelta It's the Vuelta! a Espana in Preview Part Uno: The Course!

 Holy crap, it's like T - 2 to the Vuelta! And this ain't no sprinters' party (though the Tour de France wasn't so much as usual this year either)--this is the fabulous Vuelta a Espana, baby, and a course tailor-made for the mountain goats over at we love Euskaltel and, of course, we love and *have faith in* you heretic goons, Mikel Landa, who we refuse to accept this bull!@#$ about not going for GC and maybe only aiming for a stage win.  #Landismo, beeyotches!  Anyway, before we get to who's in it, including that Tramadol-sucking DQd Mikel-backstabbing weasel Quintana, *what's* in it?  This!

Week One: Welcome to...the Netherlands? Whatever, but you can't go wrong with beautiful Utrecht!  We start off with an inaugural, long enough at 23.3k time trial that oughta give Lotto Soudal, and, more importantly, Primoz Roglic, an annoying GC advantage of approximately 52 hours 16 minutes over the nearest podium contenders.  Dammit!  Stage 2 *is* a rare gift to the fast men--if you don't count the Cat 3 tossed in to get the KOM going. Danger: crosswinds. Don't !@#$ this up, Bahrain!  Stage 3: don't get those mountain legs *too* twitchy just yet, because it's another flat one.  Enjoy, sprinters, because it's just about your last damn chance! Next up: a premature transfer/rest day, and we all saw this year how *that* throws the peloton for a loop.  Hold it together, and we'll see you tomorrow in Spain! Stage 4: Technically a medium-mountains stage, the climb 15k out then skeevy descent to the finish means some of you better have brushed up on your descending skills--no opiates for you, Nairo! Stage 5: and oh yes, we are in the Basque country at last, home of the most perfect fans on the planet and another day to get the climbers just started in their groove. And yes, I already have my massive orange shrine in place.  Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeel! Stage 6: Okay, *now* we're in the mountains, honey: it's two Cat 1s including a mountaintop finish that, while it won't decide the GC, certainly might show who's gonna be spit out of it. Stage 7: "medium mountains", in that it has a giant-!@# Cat 1 beast of the Puerto de San Glorio peaking about 65k from the finish then a mostly looooooooooong downhill to the finish, with a mean lumpy bit at 150-168k just to wreck your rhythm.  Cripes, *now* can we have a real rest day?

Week 2: Feeling relaxed, or you freaked out about that opiate you didn't know you took and that pesky finger stick from the narcs?  Anyway, Stage 8 in Asturias is *not* screwing around, with a five-pack of Cat 2s and 3s until you start pretty much climbing for good for the last 18k onto the spankin' new hence totally unpredictable in practice mountaintop finito on the Cat 1 Collao Fancuaya.  *Now* we're talking GC! Don't shake out those legs *too* much, though--Stage 8 is another rolling ripper with a finale up the (yep, you guessed it) Cat 1 to Nava with a complete b!@#$ of a 4k to shell out the more slow-'n'-steady types.  Wait, now it's rest day 2 *already*?  What is this heathen sneaky !@#$ ?, I'm a Tour de France guy for chrissakes!  Well, rest up or not, but Stage 10 is a 30k individual time trial flat enough to completely screw Mikel and any other pure climbers but which ought to leave the rest of the GC undisturbed. Oh, and crosswinds.  No fun!  Stage 11: Okay, sprinters, enjoy--191k of damn near nothin'!  Stage 12: Welcome to Malaga!  You got squat to do most of the day, GC, except freak out about the 20k finale up the Cat 1 Penas Blancas.   That oughta wake you up outta your stupor!  Stage 13: don't worry, despite its rolly profile, it's actually pretty damn flat, but it's gonna take some recovery by the really big boys not to bonk a bit before the final sprint.  We finish up the week with a pretty mellow Stage 14 with a Cat 3 hop about 90k out then (of course, which is why we love the Vuelta), yet another Cat 1 finale with a downhill/uphill final k.  Oh thank God--there's a rest day *3* this merciful Vuelta?

Week 3: all right, gloves off (or on, whichever you prefer) boys--if you haven't crashed out or completely cracked like a bad nut, this is when it all gets decided!  Stage 15 is a party for the pure climbers, with our first HC ("Holy Crap") finale of the race that's sure to show whose recent injuries or covid bouts have left them vulnerable.  Stage 16: one more for the sprinters.  All right, guys, you can all go crying home now without any (well, much) shame or regrets!  Stage 17: Break(away) time--just one Cat 2 at the final to separate the wheat from the chaff!  Stage 18: another quiet mountain day, with just one Cat 1 honker at 140-150k out, then a relatively gentle 5-6%, 10k climb to Alto de Piornal. Bonus: you pass a monastery halfway in, so if you're done with this masochistic cyclist !@#$ and decide you'd prefer a life of quiet contemplation, now's your chance!  Stage 19 is another one for the break, with 2 Cat 2s and a nice flat finish.  But it ain't over yet: for stage 20, it's Cat 1 Cat 2 Cat 2 Cat 1 Cat 1, with a just-slightly-enough-to-crush-you-spirituallly uphill final k to Navacerrada.  Jaysus, I'm gasping--can we call the podium now or what?  Last but not least, even the brutal Vuelta gives the riders a mercy flat celebration stage for Stage 21, though I don't know that sparkling wine's gonna pair well with all that Tylenol you're stuffed with.  But stagger on up, GC, and enjoy your podium celebration before your legs collapse!

Well, that's yer Vuelta.  Next up: the GC contenders!  

It's Yer Incredibly Prestigious Tours (!) de France racejunkie Awards!

 Yes folks, the Tour Hommes is rather long gone, but the Tour de France Femmes Avec Swift has just wrapped up, so, thanks to the women *finally* getting a real show after umpteen years (and the riders, staff, organizers, journos, and fans who made it possible by endlessly pressing UCI for the obvious), it's time for our inaugural Incredibly Prestigious Tours (!) de France racejunkie Awards! Prizes--I swear on #landismo, so you know this is no bull!@#$--for those so desperate for low-rent notoriety to claim 'em: (1) a genuine sports statuary thingy with your name and award either (a) elegantly engraved on it or (b) written in nearabout the nicest darn penmanship you've ever encountered outside a doctor's prescription pad; (2) a dashing, custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling (not baseball, you heathens!) cap; (3) a passel of handsome genuine racejunkie stickers to deface yer bike, yer helmet, or Pat Lefevere; and (4) eternal (because you know whatever dumb!@#ery you get up to now is sticking around in perpetuity) internet glory (or shame).  So what was the good, the bad, and (for sure) the unspeakably ugly of this year's Tours (!)?  Well pop open that champagne, try not to kill yerself with the cork, get ready with that brie and a hunk o' baguette, and let's look!

Total Best Moment in the Entire Planetary History of Cycling: you know it. You dreamt it.  And she's deserved it for at least the last 15 years.  Marianne Vos, indisputably the GOAT, in the maillot jaune.  Now figure out how to wind back time you blowhard physicists and let her fight for it every damn year!

Self-Own o' (Not Quite) the Race: no, he *wasn't* in the Tour, but we love him anyway, so he still wins.  Biniam Girmay's bitchin' new Angry Exploding Cork Cartoon helmet.  Glad to see that his vision's intact from his Giro d'Italia Champagne Fisticuffs, *and* his sense of humor!

!@#$ Crash o' the Tour (GC-deciding): Oh, dear Primoz Roglic.  Before your willing acolyte Vingegaard could even smack you around on the road for undisputed leadership at Team Jumbo-Visma, you got taken out when Caleb Ewan got taken out by, of all stupidities, an errant bale of hay knocked out into the course by a race vehicle, which an adjacent gendarme didn't even bother to kick back onto the sidewalk.  That just *sucks*--can we please find out who's responsible, and encourage them to issue Primoz a deeply heartfelt apology?

Corollary Screw You People, What Is the Big Damn Deal? Award: Stage 15.  Who doesn't take the start? Roglic.  Why?  No, *not* because he's being a whiny-!@# !@#$% over losing team leadership to Jonas Vingegaard, when you *just* watched him Jonas hauling relentlessly up the mountains for most of the last *two weeks* while he struggled through excruciating pain--it's because he was *struggling through excruciating pain*, you jackwagons, and he finally needed to *stop.*  If he'd wanted to hose Vinegaard, he could've dropped out the day after his crash.  Give the guy some credit for sportsmanship, and let him take his well-earned Tylenol in peace!

Fan !@#$wit Award: holy moly, I think this is maybe the single year since I've been doing this that no-one caused any kind of GC-determining catastrophe, unless you count the crashes caused by agricultural protestors literally gluing their !@#es to the tarmac in front of the riders, and the usual "Y'know what riders like to climb through? Smoke flares!" eejits. The flags stayed out of the wheels, the signs stayed sensibly held overhead, and the camera-seeking exhibitionists didn't unduly distract the talent.  All in all, well done, people!

Fan *Fun*wit Award: well, this is new this year—but I had to give props to the Tour de France Femmes Hopping Inflatable Chicken Guy, who livened up not only the race but apparently also snagged an empty podium shot (with him on it). Allez allez next year—we hope!

I'm Not Crying, *You're* Crying Result o' the Race: Hugo Houle, stage 15, Tour Hommes, holding off his rampaging compatriots to take a decisive victory, which he desperately wanted to get for, and tearfully dedicated to, his late brother.  Now hand me a hanky before I drool on my yellow t-shirt--or yours!

All I Want for Christmas Is...Prize: Simon freakin' Clarke, people.  At Christmas, this spectacularly underrated but always incredibly reliable rider was out of a contract, and unwillingly considering his next steps towards a post-peloton career.  And while his team might be mocked as the final resting place for talent towards, well, the twilight of their pro riding days, Clarke roundly proved he was no mere money-making nostalgia-name with a beautiful, nail-nipping, right on the line perfect bike throw victory on Stage 5.  Hot damn--call the police and the fireman!  

Well That Was 3,328 Kilometers of My Life I'm Never Gonna Get Back Prize: Caleb Ewan.  Just an amazing sprinter, with just some crap placement and maybe just a little missing mojo, on an unusually sprint-stingy Tour de France Hommes.  Still, he stuck it out over hill, dale, and Alpe, with his loyal teammates shepherding him in pretty darn comfortably ahead of the time limit no matter how punishing the day's terrain.  Can the race organizers give this guy a nice wheel of cheese or something for effort, at least? 

Raise the Red Lantern (Rouge) Prize: yeah, save your snark, you wusses, the last freakin' finisher in the Tour de France is *still* one of the most bad-!@# athletes on the planet and can *still* drop you like a stone before you even finish getting your chamois cream on.  Caleb Ewan and Lone Meertens, take a bow—and a nap!

Tiiii-iiiiime Is On My Side (Yes It Is) Award: Look, we don't expect much of sprinters in the high passes, and even stage winner Fabio Jakobsen is no exception.  But making the time cut on Stage 17 by *15 seconds*?  *That* is cutting it close.  Nice save--and I trust your teammates all got a round of beers from you that night!

Breakout Star of the Tour(s)!: Not familiar with SD Worx's Marlen Ruesser, despite her Olympic silver in the time trial?  Well I'm ashamed to say I wasn't, because she smashed Stage 4 by over a minute and a half over her nearest (or more accurately, farthest) competitor. Way to stamp it on the newly most prestigious race in women's cycling--and we'll be looking for more next year! 

!@#$ Crash o' the Tour (Jaysus H. Christ You're Supposed to Be on My Side!) sure, the men had a coupla problems with one moto causing one guy to crash and the succeeding moto and team car pinching the next guy in and making *him* crash, but let's be honest, that's par for the course these days. What's *particularly* *not* supposed to happen is yer own team car running up yer !@# and knocking you over. UAE—Mavi Garcia’s supposed to ride ahead of you, not be pushed ahead *by* you!

Total Sexist Bull!@#$ o' the Race (Commentator Edition): Orla Chennaoui, or specifically, her !@#$wit troglodyte detractors, who somehow couldn't get over the fact that she wore, y'know, *clothes*, that apparently deviated just a little too much from the Official Commentator Bro Uniform of Short-Sleeve Button-Down with Slightly Wacky Pattern, Skinny Jeans, and Fashion Kicks, and accordingly, were incapable of paying attention to a !@#damn thing she said for three weeks in their outrage over something totally irrelevant.  Look, I don't give a crap if Robbie McEwen is up there in the GCN box wearing pasties and a G-string, I want to know what he thinks about the *race*.  Fly your freak flag, people, but for heck's sake fans, keep your eyes on the prize here!

Total Sexist Bull!@#$ o' the Race (Peloton Edition): oh my gerd, for the first time in the entire history of cycling on Earth, a buncha riders went down in a pile.  But it's the Tour de France Femmes Avec Swift, so of course, some asshat posted a pic with an apparent caption slagging how those wacky women drivers just can't even ride a bike without coming down.  Now, I don't read French, but I *do* read "Jackass", and by that guy's standards, the !@#$ing whole men's peloton shouldn't even be allowed to navigate a shopping cart in a supermarket, much less a bicycle at 50 kph an eyelash-width's away from other people.  Oh, and I'm pretty sure Van Vleuten could hunt you down within a millimeter like a starving raptor from 100k out going blindfolded over pave.  Jerk!

Domestique o' the Tour(s)!: It's not often that a, what, three time? stage winner grabs this one, but damn, Wout van Aert can do it all.  When anyone else would be crying on the massage table and begging his team doc for some fake stomach-ailment diagnosis, Wout not only broke free on most every stage and bagged a pile of them, but, sensing blood in the water like Jaws on swimmer, he absolutely broke any last resistance left in the legs of defending champion Tadej Pogacar to ensure his teammate Jonas Vingegaard the stage, *and* the overall win in Paris.  You could do worse for a worker bee, amiright?

Drama From Another Mama Award: okay, I'm personally much more interested in the occasional St. Bernard or livestock that they hand up to the riders, but in the broader scheme of adorable podium shots with adorable spawn in adorable tiny team kit, it *was* heck funny that Lorena Weibes hoisted someone else's baby entirely up there for the inaugural maillot jaune of the Tour.  Still prefer baby goats though!

And Last But Never Least, Punk-!@# Move o' the Race: Usually, this goes to an actual rider-on-rider deliberate cutoff or post-stage minor slapfest, but this year, it's different.  Y'know, there were about 7 Americans in the Tour de France Hommes this year, several of whom rode incredibly strongly but only one of whom was paraded all over NBC in a grotesque, fawning, context-less lovefest, Twitter racist ignoramus Quinn Simmons.  Yap, his team made him apologize, yap, he's surely since grown as a person, yap--you coulda been singing the praises of, say, Neilson Powless, who rode at least as strongly, for three weeks.  Hang your head in shame, NBC--and try a better pick next year!

All right folks, there's absolutely more I could cover, but frankly, I've wasted your time this long.  Congrats to the winners, consolation to the losers, and now, it's time for the Vuelta--aupa Mikeeeeeeeeeeeel!

It's Yer Tour de France in Preview: Part The Only One You're Gonna Get!

 All right, between work, women being reduced to livestock in my country, Covid-cautious family visits, and general tomfoolery, I'll admit, it's been a bit of a week.  But after like 15 years of Grand Tour previews, I would be grievously failing both my loyal readers if I didn't at least mega-halfassedly pay homage to that gloriously tacky Show of Shows, the Tour de France.  And mercifully for you, this means you get a major edit on my usual blathering posts about (1) the Course; (2) the GC Contenders; and (3) the 'Nother Guys.  So what've we got, this lively Tour edition? This!

1. UCI's new Covid protocol.  Near as I can tell, it means "you really should get out if you're Covid-positive, but we'll leave some wiggle room so any pestilence-ridden GC contenders can weasel up an excuse to stay in and infect the rest of the peloton, race organizers, staff, and occasional fan who runs too close too long, but the rest of you plebes, you're !@#$ed."  As a result, the last 72 hours have been a mad scramble of rider regret-Tweets, last-minute flights, and special Tour team-kit sewing jobs.  How the hell are you clowns gonna enforce this fairly?   

2. The Bahrain-Merida hotel raids.  FFS. Look at how many records are falling like dominoes the past couple years, and that's *with* all the supply-chain interruption bull!@#$. Bahrain-Victorious is the *least* of the peloton's problems right now, so what the hell?  And yes, I'm biased because of Mikel, who is innocent, you faithless freaks.  Pro tip: lawyer up anyway!

3. The mountains.  I'm sure they're great, though the Giro and Vuelta's are better.  What's *really* gonna be interesting is if Rogla cracks and a certain jailbait superdomestique unilaterally decides to change the team leadership.  No more Mister Nice Guy--Movistar, this could make you all look like amateurs! 

4. The Team Kit Controversies.  Okay, so some look like an acid trip, some look like someone hurled after an acid trip, some are dull as hell, some have a rather lovely twilight (evening, not vampire) vibe, and some, for entirely mysterious reasons, incorporate anime dinosaurs.  *Now* how are we gonna recognize anybody the first week?

5. Putting Cav's giant green-jersey arms-raised-in-triumph photograph behind the Tour team he'd been embarrassingly excluded from is just next-level trolling.  Whoever got paid whatever to sneak that slide in--they oughta double it!

6. Speaking of whom, I'm betting the chances that Pat Lefevere slags Cav to the press without him even being in the race as approximately 100% the first full day, plus 10% more each day thereafter.  Your odds?

7. We all want to see Tibo win a stage.  Maybe they'll let him bring a coupla his baby goats up on the podium!

8. Alaphilippe out just plain sucks.  Glad he's resting up and not ruining the rest of his season aggravating his injuries, though!

9. Simon Clarke for a stage win.  Hope I haven't just cursed 'im.

10. Chris Froome for the--nah, even I won't pile on a guy that low down.  I'll wait til he finally gets popped for a career of donkey-to-racehorse performances instead.

11. Euskaltel.  !@#dammit race organizers, fix this !@#$ in 2023.  Frankly, it's not like a French squad's gonna pick up the slack!

12. Race motos--you've been on quite a rampage lately with these fragile rider bodies.  Back the !@#$ off!

Welp, there's your preview in brief.  Hope everyone stays happy, healthy enough to satisfy the race organizers, and safe! 

It's Yer Incredibly Prestigious 2022 Giro d'Italia racejunkie Awards!

Yes, another hot-pink extravaganza has wrapped, and let's be frank--it was a bit of a weird one, amirite?  But it's still the fabulous Giro d'Italia, it *was* still a three-week festa of travel porn, grinta, and the occasional act of derring-do, and darn it, there's lots to celebrate!  Ergo, it's time for Yer annual Incredibly Prestigious Giro d'Italia racejunkie Awards!  Prizes--I swear on Mikel Landa, so you *know* there's no bull!@#$ing you here--for anyone so desperate, ecstatic, or hung-over from post-race partying as to claim 'em: (1) a dashing custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap to impress yer pals and cover up that godawful helmet hair; (2) a passel of handsome racejunkie stickers to deface yer bike, yer helmet, or yer ungrateful smack-talking DS's face; and (3) a genuine sports-related trophy from my local tchotchke shop, either custom-engraved with yer name and award, or with same written on it in permanent Sharpie with darn near the best penmanship you'll ever find outside maybe one of those terrifying parochial-school classrooms where the teacher whacks the crap outta yer knuckles with a ruler for your transgressions til you can barely even hold a pen.  Oh right, and eternal internet glory, and, if you've *really* got nothing else positive going on in yer life, bragging rights.  So what's the good, the bad, and just plain embarrassing of this year's Giro d'Italia?  Well slap on yer most stylin' pink partywear, try not to kill yerself uncorking the Prosecco, and let's find out!

Monty Python French Castle Guard Mockery Award: look, Richard Carapaz, besides being a Movistar backstabber *and* an all-time champion wheelsucker, is also a highly dependable, if accordingly disreputable, sandbagging punk.  And who wasn't having it on stage 17, after a long, hard slog to Lavarone?  *That's* right, perpetual peloton nice-guy we love Mikel Landa, who in response to Carapaz' latest horse-hockey body-rocking pain face, and totally coincidental refusal to work to protect his own damn maglia rosa, ostentatiously pulled off and played like a delicate steel-corseted Victorian lady in imminent need of smelling salts to prevent her fragile self from fainting dead away on the tarmac.  Elbow flicks are for weenies--you *go*, Mikel!

Punk-!@# Move o' the Race: in a related award, while this is typically captured for a single grand gesture of d*****baggery, this one goes to near-winner Richard Carapaz of the already odious Ineos squad for clinging to every other teams' wheel, avoiding every obligation to work when his own boys finally dropped off the map, and helpfully allowing the other GC riders to superdomestique him until he was the only one left with energy to come around and attack. "Conserving energy" and "tactical prudence" my !@#--ride like a tick, get plucked off like a tick, you punk!

What the Absolute !@#$ ? Result o' the Race: Yeah, you know who it is, and no, despite like one clairvoyant cycling journalist's Nostradamusly obscure and accurate pick, neither you nor I saw this coming.  Jai Hindley in the final maglia rosa.  What, like this award isn't as cool as the Trofeo Senza Fine?

Gut-Wrenching Retirement o' the Race (Freakish): so you thought it was a one-off when van der Poel harmlessly whacked himself popping a Prosecco cork right after his Stage 1 victory?  Hell to the no, as revelation of the season and future Winner of All Races In the Universe Biniam Girmay damn near took his own eye out with a flying celebratory bubbly cork after his thrilling Stage 10 win and, while mercifully his eye'll be fine in the long run, still hadda drop out of the race right on the heels of his own personal glory.  That didn't stop him from patching up and heading right back to the hotel to thank and celebrate with his teammates, though--class, kid!

Gut-Wrenching Retirement o' the Race (GC-Impacting): sure, maybe in reality there was a 90% chance Romain Bardet was gonna crack in Yatesian proportions anyway, but my, it certainly didn't look that way til, well, Liquigas took him outta the Giro on Stage 9.  Aw, rats--he really looked like a rare French final podium hope for a few days there! 

Gut-Wrenching Retirement o' the Race (Sentimental Favorite): look, after his visible shock and disappointment with his nonetheless-very-fine third place in the inaugural time trial, it was perhaps inevitable that Tom Dumoulin wasn't gonna make it through to Verona.  But he darn well did his best, and though I maintain he is one phenomenally unlikely high-mountains champion, he *did* still come back bravely from his temporary hiatus, and I hope he's not so psyched out he doesn't at least finish up the year.  Valiant effort, Tom!

Things That Make You Go "Hmmmmm....." Award: okay, I don't know much about numbers, but what I *do* know is that an awful lotta people who do were seriously shocked by what heretofore-talented-but-not-rocket-fueled Jai Hindley was putting out when he finally cracked Richard Carapaz like a walnut and absolutely obliterated previous records set on the fearsome Fedaia on Stage 20.  Not that I wasn't delighted about it--but geez, it's amazing how much of a difference fluffy new pillows and carefully calibrated sock heights can make these days!

Weird-!@# Meme o' the Giro: look, we're all accustomed to wisenheimers in syringe suits or butt-flashing exhibitionists in Speedos running alongside the riders either taunting or encouraging them.  Hell, even the constant waving of one's own flag into the face of a passing rider who isn't even from there don't raise an eyebrow.  But this !@#$ with people dressed up in chef's outfits and fist-pumping pineapples right at riders who weren't even involved in the whole bizarre van der Poel pineapple-pizza abomination?  That's a whole new level of odd.  Next year, can we tifosi all agree we're gonna *honor* a local Italian dish, not make a hideous mockery of one?

Corollary Abomination Against God Award: yep, pineapple pizza. I mean, that $%^&'s barely tolerable in the culinarily classless United States.  Aren't you guys just supposed to be carbo-loading, anyway?

Shark Week (Three Weeks, Whatever) Prize: he's won the Giro d'Italia twice, bagged countless stages, and made some of the toughest men in cycling flat-out wet themselves on his flying descents.  Vincenzo Nibali, despite a few cracks in the armor, you honored your final (waaaaaaah!) Giro, in your hometown and everywhere else you went, with every single pedal stroke.  Addio, lo Squalo, we'll miss you next year!

Fan !@#$wit Award: Miraculously, no dumb#$% with an errant child, wandering dog, protruding selfie stick, or massive highway billboard managed to take out anyone in the peloton this year.  But for sheer "Oh !@#!-ness", not to mention chutzpah, this year's award goes to the gentleman who *actually joined the race on his bike alongside the riders* on the decisive stage 20. Can you imagine the bloody carnage, and history-making total disaster, if this uncontrolled eejit had touched wheels with someone on GC.  Yeah, we all wanna win on the Fedaia--keep your wannabe fantasies in your head, and off the damn road while the big boys are riding, you clown!

Social Media Star o' the Race: now, normally this'd go to some bored superdomestique looking to release the tension with some daily Twitter wiseassery, but this year, the Giro d'Italia itself just nailed the prize.  From amusing photo captions to direct engagement with swooning fans to actually offering to eat a "pizza" disaster after Van der Poel single-handedly horridly disgraced hundreds of years of Italian culinary tradition, the race organizers stepped out of the pedestrian swamp of overwhelming if necessary details that go into such a massive production, and had a little fun to boot.  Way to go Giro!

What the Stupid Sexist !@#$ Was This? Prize: look, you can like or dislike the various' feeds' commentary, and let's be real, there's lots of compliments and justifiable approbation to go along on both sides.  And certainly, personal presentation is understandably part of the show.  But while the occasional Twitter wag tried to suss out a source for Robbie McEwen's t-shirt or questioned Brad Wiggins' swinging sartorial cred, none of this remotely approached the constant crap Orla Chennaoui got for what she was or wasn't wearing *every* *single* *day*.  Do you !@#$wits even *hear* what she's saying about the race while you're obsessing over ruffles or shorts length?  No?  Then shut yer damn outraged eyes, you pigs! 

Last But Not Least, the Movistar Memorial Impenetrable Team Tactics Award: look, you can't really fault Bahrain Victorious *too* much, in a way: even after losing Tratnik's phenomenal engine just a coupla stages in, they got some impressive stage wins from unexpected quarters, only let Mikel hit the deck once, *and* got we love Landa on the final podium by an extremely satisfactory margin.  But what boggled my !@#$in' mind *every* *day* was how, even after Carapaz' robotic Ineos squad finally burned out their circuits and, worse, lost Richie Porte to illness when Carapaz needed him most, Bahrain relentlessly set the pace for Carapaz up every crucial race-deciding climb and cocooned him like a robin's egg so the little rugrat could conserve his energy to drop Mikel in the last few hundred meters of *every* !@#damn finish.  You guys maybe wanna hit up Ineos for the money they owe you for working for them so beautifully?  Jaysus!

Well, that's yer Giro d'Italia 2022.  So claim yer prizes, slink home in ignominy, and remember, only 11 1/2 months left til Giro 2023!  

It's Yer Giro d'Italia Rest Day Due Roundup!

 Okay, it's still a little weird that it's actually the second rest day already after just Stage 9, but Giro's gotta make money having other countries host the gig no matter how inconvenient for the riders, so here we are.  So what did we learn this fateful first week, (both) my faithful readers?  Let's review!

1. You did *not* see Yates winning that opening time trial.  I mean, you thought he'd do well, but be honest--not that well!

2. You did *so* see Yates cracking.  Not because of his knee, though that is what happened this time--but like clockwork, he'll do it at least once every Grand Tour anyway.  Heal up soon--and props to him for being determined to at least start tomorrow to honor the race!

3. Tom Dumoulin.  Frankly, I still don't see how a guy with his build can possibly ever have won a race as cruelly (and beautifully) mountainous as the Giro.  And seeing him just gutted after his time trial third place--which for almost anyone else would be a career highlight--really sucked.  But the way he worked like a dog then celebrated wholeheartedly for his young teammate and virgin Grand Tour stage-winner teammate Koen Bouwman was genuinely a thing of generosity.  You could do worse than the proud owner of the Trofeo Senza Fine for a worker bee, buddy!

4. Thomas De Gendt.  Like you weren't screaming your damn head off willing him to take that stage?  Own it, Pinocchio, you were so either!

5. Biniam Grmay.  Okay, he dithered around with van der Poel when he could've bridged up to the break just before the line, and misjudged a coupla sprints.  He *just* won Ghent-Wevelgem for !@#&'s sake--can we give him 10 minutes to get adjusted to the Giro before we vilify the poor kid when we all *know* it's just a matter of time?  Jaysus!

6.  Juanpe Lopez.  Dang, calling nature breaks for the entire peloton already? That kid's learned to wield the power of the maglia rosa pretty quick!  

7. Don't even say it.  Don't even say it.  I don't want to curse him. Mikel cra--entirely voluntarily chose to caress the glass-smooth surface of the brand-new tarmac *twice* yesterday.  Plus, he sorta owned up to being mildly dented, which stands to reason when you hurtle at said tarmac at like 70 kph.  Tratnik's out. Pello's scraped up pretty good. But Mikel *did* stick with Hindley Bardet and Carapaz the whole way up--and even attacked, woot!--the Blockhaus climb nonetheless.  Mikel, heal up fast--we believe!  And Bahrain, get your !@#$ back together and protect this boy.  Landismoooooooooooooooooo!

8. Y'know, I really like and admire Richie Porte.  But watching Carapaz's relentless blue train crushing the rest of the GC as their own high-quality helpers dropped off in exhaustion gave me instinctively creepy Discovery-Postal throwback vibes.  Plus, they're working for Carapaz, who is the nails-on-the-blackboard, hovering-mosquito, punk-!@# Landa backstabber in my ear.  Argh!

9. I am still trying to get my head around the dance portion of the Giro opening ceremony, though as i adore the Giro without reservation and in every way possible, it's clearly my fault for being a low-rent, cultureless American clod.  But--ah, forget it, it's clearly my fault!

10. Cav is !@#$ed without Morkov, which means he'll prove me wrong, take all the remaining sprint stages, and wear the points jersey on the final podium in Verona. Oh well Caleb--if you can avoid being spit out the back tomorrow, there's theoretically a chance the break'll choke and you'll come back and take your win!

11. Bauke Mollema.  You've still got plenty of time.  But we're waiting!

All right, that's the first week down.  Next up--well, it basically only *does* go up from here.  Aupa Mikeeeeeeeeeel!      

It's the Giro It's the Giro It's the Giro! In Preview, Part Tre: The Stage Hunters!

 We got the course, we got the GC contenders--but who's gonna be out there hunting for less grandiose but still eternal glory?  Yes, they overlap considerably with the bandied-about names for GC, mainly because I think it's bull!@#$ to expect some of those favorites to really be called GC contenders at all.  So besides Bardet and Dumo--all of whom should be left the hell alone pending the very fine results I do think they'll get--who else is on the prowl?  For my money (and fortunately I'm too (1) gutless and (2) cheap to put *actual* money behind this), these guys!

Pello Bilbao.  Look, I am incredibly reluctant to suggest anything that could remotely screw Mikel Landa over.  And I absolutely will not do that here.  But if *after* Mikel's GC is secured (okay, *I* won't feel secure til I see 'im on the top step in Milan), he's got time in the bank to let anyone off the leash as a reward, it would be nice if it were Pello, who has been absolutely smoking in shorter stage races so far this season.  And of course Pello, Mikel *just* helped you out, so surely you won't mind having to wait a few stages at the Corsa Rosa for your reward for your presumptively invaluable support.  You go Pello--after Mikel though!

Biniam Grmay.  C'mon, the guy just triumphed at Ghent-Wevelgem.  And now, he's got an entire country--and a good half of everyone else on the planet--freaking out rooting for him here.  He's got the confidence, the skill, and the tenacity.  Forza Biniam!

Bauke Mollema: we already love him for his (1) amazing breakaway prowess; (2) incredible strength; and (3) highly enjoyable lack of an edit function with the press.  It may take him a few cracks, and a bazillion kilometers convincing his compatriots to put their heads down and not give up on the break, but I think it's darn near written in stone.  Bauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuke!

Lorenzo Fortunato: he captured the mighty Zoncolan while his rivals weaved (wove?) in agony behind him, and frankly, a guy could do worse than having umpteen-Giro winners Alberto Contador and Ivan Basso around to give you advice and encouragement.  He's got Gavazzi with him too, who will have his own goals but is surely generous enough to help.  Seriously hoping he can pull this off again to shut down anyone thinking he's a one-hit wonder.  We'll find out!

Wilco Keldermann: I know, he's a GC contender, I *know*.  But I don't think he is, here, this year.  Don't mind if he proves me wrong though!

Like Half of EF: they may not be in GC contention this year, but dang, EF has got a heavy-duty squad.  You got Magnus Cort Nielsen with the pornstache, Hugh Carthy, Odd Christian Eiking who held the red jersey at last year's Vuelta for about a week, Merhawi Kudus--no way they're heading home without a bagful of Lupo Wolfie dolls!

Esteban Chaves: besides the fact that he's just adorable as a koala, he's a freakin' perfect climber, he's done this before, and his form, after a disconcerting stalemate, is looking up.  Anyhoo, he'll certainly try, whether or not he blows up afterwards.  Oh Chavito, no matter what happens, we all love you!

Lilian Calmejane.  Right, it's his teammate Vendrame who actually took a Giro stage win, but Calmejane always seems to be up there this year.  Gotta pay off sometime!

Mikel Nieve: what the !@#$ do you *mean* he's not here?!   What were you thinking letting him go Trek-Segafredo?!

Sprinters: yes, I'm lumping them all together because this is the Giro d'Italia, not the damn Tour de France.  To me, this is all Caleb Ewen's show, though with Morkov's incredible synchronicity with Cav, it's hard to imagine Cav won't bag at least one stage as well.  Or however many it takes for Lefevere not to totally also-ran him for the Tour.  Right, and Demare's there too.  Well, that about covers all the Giro sprints...

All right, I'm sure I missed about 15 guys who'll win, because if anything is certain about the Giro d'Italia, it's total chaos.  Buona fortuna gentlemen--now let's get this hot-pink show (literally) on the road!

It's the Giro It's the Giro It's the Giro! In Preview, Part Due: the Contenders!

 Yes, the team presentation's been held, the inexplicable yet compelling modern dance routines are still digesting, we love Bauke Mollema's railed against the stupidity of starting in Hungary and the ill-planned travel slogs on purported rest days, Mikel Landa hasn't--nope, not gonna curse 'im--and it's time to get down to business!  Rogla's out.  Pogacar's out.  And of course, Bernal is still recovering, rather miraculously at that.  So who are our GC contenders, and what are their likely chances of success?  Let's get to it!

Mikel Landa (Bahrain-Merida): shut up haters.  The last few months we've seen what we frankly haven't seen for ages, which is Happy Mikel, as opposed to the let's be honest our usual Damn Near Funereal Mikel, and I'm gonna run with it.  He's won stages.  He's podiumed.  He's a fluid, beautiful climber when the legs feel right.  And this year's course, with its merciful lack of time trial kilometers (the Carrot's nemesis), is just *made* for him.  Add to that his heck of a team, including the brilliant also-Carrot Pello Bilbao, and if Pello keeps his job in mind and doesn't !@#$ Mikel over--I love you Pello, but you hear me !@#dammit?!--and the rest of him surround him like scrawny but effective pillows and keep some nimrod from knocking him over,  it can be gold.  I can feel it.  Landismo, beeyotches!

Richard Carapaz (Ineos): first, it's only fair to say that I'll be pissed atCarapaz til the end of time for backstabbing Mikel Landa at Movistar.  That said, he's a very capable wee thing, has the ever-annoying Ineos around him, and possesses just the sort of ruthlessness that gets you on or near the top of the podium.  Fine, take the maglia rosa for the first couple mountain stages--after that, prepare to give it up to your superior!

Romain Bardet (DSM): look, we all love him.  Especially after he so concernedly barged down a ditch to make sure Julian Alaphilippe was okay.  But just--back off.  Give the guy some space. We all know how the pressure on the next Great French Grand Tour Hope always goes.  A stage win and a Top Five will do nicely, thank you! 

Alejandro Valverde and Ivan Sosa (Movistar): Okay, technically now Movistar's dropped its disastrous multi-leader eating-their-own-young strategy of the past and at least dropped down from a trident to a bident.  And Alejandro Valverde, consistent with the spirit that's made him so well-liked in the peloton despite a truly, um, astounding palmares and longevity, has openly blessed young Ivan Sosa as team leader.  But seriously, Bala bags his stage win and secures a high spot on GC with no end in sight, and he's not gonna accidentally lose his earpiece and drop Sosa like a UCI pee sample?  Please!  That said, because I have no soul, I can't help but darn near root for him.  Anyhoo, whatever he says now, there's always 2023! And 2024. And...

Nibali and Superman Lopez (Astana): okay, so Nibs is getting a little long in the tooth for Grand Tour purposes, even though he's hardly the oldest, but realistically, he's going for the Etna and/or Messina stages here.  So is Lopez, after his catastrophic drop-out Movistar snit at the 2021 Vuelta, happy enough with Astana or at least appropriately terrified enough of Alexandre Vinokourov to hold it together to the line?  Frankly, without Izagirres to help him, I'm a bit skeptical.  But on form, he sure is fun to watch!

Simon Yates (Bike Exchange): yes, he podiumed last year, and he's the presumed favorite.   And whoa moly, did he just *kill* the field at the Vuelta a Asturias. But I don't know--he's got an almost Valverdian capacity for single-stage meltdowns that always seem to kill his chances.  Better to take this day-by-day I think!

Tom Dumoulin (Jumbo): you know his palmares.  And it's delightful to see him happy on the bike again after experiencing such severe burn-out and rightly taking the time to see if he wanted to come back at all.  He sure seemed upbeat at the team presentation yesterday, right?  Still, I hold my conviction that this guy was never built for the high passes of the Giro in the first place, and apparently there is some pressure over his future at Jumbo dependent on his performance here, if only pressure on his upcoming paychecks.  Let's get Dumo back to his time trialing roots and just enjoy anything else as a bonus, shall we?

Joao Almeida (UAE): he's still very young, after all, although in today's jailbait-genius peloton, that's not perhaps a barrier.  And his 2021 Giro wasn't his best.  But he is on fire this season.  I guess you can podium, kid--as long as you're gracious to the guy on the top step ahead of you!      

 All right, them's mine--but of course there's only really one.  Aupa Mikeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!

It's the Giro It's the Giro It's the Giro! In Preview, Part Uno: The Course!

 Okay, both my faithful readers: I've been slacking off on the blog for a while due to my regrettable lack of an inherited fortune and the resulting unjust need to earn a living through "work", but it *is* the fabulous Giro d'Italia, so dammit, game *on*!  So what to expect from the famed Corsa Rosa, besides some bull!@#$ piece of crap-marked road furniture that no inattentive !@#$wit better slam into and screw we love Mikel Landa over, *again*?  This!

Week One: we start off this year in beautiful Hungary, home of the *best* *dog* *ever*, the Puli.  How do you say "arf" in Hungarian?  Anyway, Stage 1: we begin with a mild flat-with-a-tiny-nip-at-the-end, where all the GC has to do is (1) not let anyone dangerous get into the breakway and (2) not !@#$ing crash.  You hear me, Mikel?  Stage 2: yeah, it's a time trial, but at 9.2k, it is mercifully--for certain non-specialists who shall remain nameless because why ought they be faulted for not being ideally built for this freak discipline?--short.  All the GC has to do is (1) not !@#$ing crash.  You hear me, Mikel?  This entire Giro route is *made* for you--don't break my heart here! Stage 3: we wind up our three-day foreign sojourn with a 201k sprint stage with a wee downhill dip to the line.  Cav, just get it over with, you already crushed my soul busting we love Andre Greipel's record at the stupid Tour!  All anyone on GC and in Bahrain-Merida needs to do is keep Mikel on the right end of any cross winds.  You hear me, guys?  Stage 4: without further ado, oh yeah--welcome to the mountains, beeyotches! It's the holy Cat 1 climb to Mt. Etna, but you'll have to schlep about 170k to get there.  Welcome to Sicilia--Shark territory for you Nibali fans!  Stage 5 runs from Catania to Messina, so if Nibs didn't grab the stage yesterday, you can bet he's gonna catch a to--uh, go all out for this one!  Stage 6: an early climb, a little bump at about 133k, then flat to the line.  Can we get back to the mountains already?  Why yes, on Stage 7 we actually do--not a killer, but a Cat 3 warmup, the Cat 1 Monte Sirino about 90k in, a (pretty darn intimidating) Cat 2, a Cat 3, and an upward hike to the line.  Don't knock yourself out unduly, Mikel--but don't take your eyes off your competitors, either!

Week Two: Benvenuto a the hilly, twisty Stage 8, which drags you 4 times around a circuit with a pretty ouchy 14% gradient before spitting you out by a long downhill to the flat, last 3k.  Sounds great, right? Sure--because that roundabout you're all about to smack into is safely in the last kilometer, so if you can get back up, your time on GC is unharmed!  Stage 9: no bull!@#$, this is the fearsome stage to Blockhaus, teasing you with a Cat 2 and Cat 3 startup before the Cat 1 climb to Passo Lanciano at 140-oddk in, with a nice descent before an utterly sadistic Cat 1 finale, with gradients of up to--aw, why worry Cav so early, he can make it there eventually!  Bahrain-Merida--pay attention, and keep our boy *out* of trouble from weaving competitors, idiot fans with banners, flags, selfie sticks, children, or dogs, or the slightest imperfection in the pavement.  Aupa Mikel, and thank god for rest days!  Stage 10 sucks you in with a paper-flat first half, then yanks you up and down the rest of the way like one of those rubber balls stapled to an elastic attached to a wooden paddle that you always bonked your head with when you were a whippersnapper.  What new fresh hell is this?  If your body hasn't just completely shut down in confusion, Stage 11 is the Reggio Emilia Parmigiano Reggiano stage, with presumably the single best stage prize in all cycling, so you hungry sprinters, now's your chance!  Stage 12 is a long but relatively mild Cat-3-full day til a dip then a slight rise to the line.  Okay, who else is itchy for the massive climbs again? Well, you'll have to wait, because it's a surprisingly un-excruciating hike to delightful Cuneo.  But don't get too comfortable: Stage 14 is a short, snappy, and sneakily hilly jaunt to Torino.  Dammit Giro stop teasing me here!

Week 3: luckily for the sprinters, most of 'em have already gone sniveling home: Stage 15 is a straight-on pain cave around Val d'Aosta, with three big freakin' climbs after that and a flattish-after-a-painful-uphill finish to Cogne. Bahrain-Merida, *keep* Mikel outta trouble on that short cobble section, it's 4k out so if he--I won't say the word to avoid cursing him--anyway, he's !@#$ed! Next up: your last rest day, so get yerself a nice chill training ride and a long massage in, because you poor kids are gonna need it for queen-stage 16, a leg-masher up the fabled Mortirolo, a daring descent, then the final ascent up the Valico Santa Cristina then a downhill rush on technical roads before a mildly uphill finish at Aprica.  Thank God it's the Wine Stage, we're gonna need it!  Stage 17: you might wish it were easier on those tired legs, but it's not by much, with a climb up the Passo del Tonale *right* out the start, *then* the Cat 1 Passo del Vetriolo at 134k, *then*--hey, *I* didn't design it, don't come cryin' to me--another Cat 1 climb at 160k before an unkindly hilly last few k before the final drop to Lavarone.  But you've still got opportunities for GC, if you haven't blown it too badly up til now!  Stage 18: it's literally almost all downhill from here to Treviso, so fast-men, enjoy your last chance for glory--if you get by the final turn at 1.2k out in one piece!  Stage 19: not the worst but for sure not the easiest mountain stage, with a side slide over into Slovenia, a coupla Cat 2 and 3s, a steep Cat 1 hike to Kolovrat, then, after a lumpy downhill, the final climb to Santuario di Castelmonte.  GC, if you've got time to make up, now's a nice chance!  Of course, it all can go utterly to hell on Stage 20, as our wily Giro saves its best for near-last with a Cat 1 weeper up the Passo San Pelligrino at 81k, the beloved Passo Pordoi at 123k--and geez, can you see *that* puppy looming from a long ways off as you approach--and, finally, Passo Fedaia, home of some of the steepest gradients in Italy and some of the most truly bull!@#$ performances I've ever seen anywhere.  Bahrain-Merida, save some matches to burn for the final climb, and *don't* let our wee boy get isolated--but Mikel, you've got this!  GC in hand--we hope, we *really*, *really* hope you've got some cushion coming in here--we finish off the 2022 edition on Stage 21 not with leisurely Prosecco toasts and across-the-tarmac photo ops with your proud teammates, but with a brief and hopefully not too devastating 17k time trial with a tough little hill bang in the middle to !@#$ with your pace.  Just be cool waiting for your turn, and don't get psyched out by your nearest GC threat Mikel!

Well folks, that's yer 2022 Corsa Rosa--next up, the GC contenders, and yes, I will graciously evaluate the other ones.  Dang, we haven't even started yet and I need a Spritz!

It's Yer 2022 Cycling Year in Preview (Yeah, You Read Right)!

 All righty, Cycling Year 2021 is now just a fond-ish, if also deeply weird, memory, and it's time for a fresh start to the year!  So, without further ado (and I know both my faithful readers are used to a lot of ado from me), It's Yer 2022 Cycling Year in Preview!

January: Team kits 'n' team camps! UCI forces Jumbo-Visma to immediately destroy all 10,000 pairs of iconic black-and-yellow "Killer Bee" team kit and replace with English Springer Spaniel-patterned kit "because we're UCI, and we can"; EF still can't decide on final kit design, Lachlan Morton announces "!@#$ it, we're all going 'au naturel' this season" because he's Lachlan Morton, and he can; Patrick "I Support Women's Cycling" Lefevere debuts new ladies' Wolfpack kit consisting of hoop skirts, corsets, ruffled petticoats, and parasols; Ineos to Roman Colosseum for to-the-death gladiatorial battle to decide Tour de France team leadership between Bernal, Thomas, Carapaz, called off after Thomas, Carapaz eaten by lions.  Oh well, that decides it I guess!

February: warming up for the big guys!  Omloop het Niewsblad renamed *again*, entire peloton accidentally competes in some random guy's "Omloop het My Driveway"; outrage at Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne as cobbled sections replaced by "Slip-n-Slides"; Vuelta a Andalucia postponed for second consecutive year as Miguel Angel Lopez refuses to defend title until given preferred flavor of lollipop.

March: *Now* we're crankin'! Max Schachmann repeats overall victory at Paris-Nice as snotty rivals underestimate him, *again*; van Aert pips Alaphilippe at line at Milano-Sanremo as Julian catches sight of self in moto mirror, stops to scrutinize, trim goatee. Don't forget yer Seven Deadly sins, Alaphillipe! 

April: Woo-hoo, it's Cobbles, baby! Paris-Roubaix delayed by 24 hours when entire peloton belatedly realizes "oh !@#$, it's *not* in October again this year?"; Sagan takes home the men's prize as rivals hallucinate from sight of Team TotalEnergie's psychedelic rainbow kit; Arenberg restored to women's race as Marianne Vos singlehandedly lifts entire cobbled section and sets it down 1 kilometer from neutral start.  Victory is hers!

May: It's the Giro it's the Giro it's the Giro!  Mikel Landa evades crashes with specially modified "Ejector" saddle, accidentally shot up into lower Earth orbit, lands safely to take the final maglia rosa in Milan; Giro Donne extended to 21 stages, moved to proper month in road calendar as peloton decides "if we can't have a real Grand Tour in July, we can at least knock one out in May;" Dumoulin takes one stage, second overall because I'm not gonna root for anyone but Landa but geez, that nice boy deserves *somethin'*.  Well done Dumo!

June: yeah, it's the run-up to the Tour! Controversy at Belgian national road championships as Evenepoel demands that van Aert, Theuns carry him on their shoulders the entire course in golden palanquin; Pogacar, Roglic preemptively attempt to decide Tour de France winner via arm-wrestling match, thwarted when realize that as cyclists, neither one of them can arm-wrestle for !@#$.  Okey-dokey, battle it out on the road it is!

July: What else? Marianne Vos rides every men's Tour de France stage before breakfast while guys are still shaving their legs and applying makeup to suspicious needle holes; Cav flips off Lefevere, joins Tour squad, takes 4 sprint stages, green jersey, Lefevere derides as Cav as "loser"; fans banned from Alpe d'Huez over crowding, COVID concerns, soigneurs dispatched with unleashed dogs, uncontrolled toddlers, neon banana-hammocks, and Viking hats to shove climbers, throw warm beer, urine on rival teams' GC riders. Dodge that, Pogacar!

August: the Vuelta begins!  Red leader's jersey reverts to old gold one because that arrogant Tour de France shouldn't dictate what the Vuelta does; Landa sensibly decides on Giro- *Vuelta* double; Thor Hushovd wins Arctic Tour of Norway because IDGAF he retired like 15 years ago, I still miss him in the peloton !@#dammit!

September:  It's the Vuelta it's the Vuelta it's the Vuelta! Oh right, and the Worlds. Euskaltel takes all mountain stages, decides to ride, win 2023 Giro, Tour, Vuelta mountain passes immediately after end of race "so we can just chill out and enjoy the summertime next year"; Anna van der Breggen bails out of Dutch team car to grab bike on course from startled van Vleuten, takes 3rd world road title; Filippo Ganna DQd from time trial victory after breaks sound barrier, escorted out of Australian airspace by fighter pilots.

November: Last gasp for contracts! Bernal signs with Movistar til 2032 in violation of existing Ineos contract on grounds that "cripes, I really can't stand that squad either"; Ineos introduces new "hexadent" leadership strategy, unfortunately leaves no domestiques available for any of next year's Grand Tours; entire Astana squad out of contract as Vinokourov signs complete contingent of 25 mini-Vinos secretly grown in unregulated lab.

December: Time to chill!  Bahrain-Victorious delivers entire container ship of bubble-wrap to Landa for Christmas, assigns 28 staff members to roll him up in it for 2023 calendar; Toms Skujins corners entire world potato market with 2022 stage winnings, supplants Jeff Bezos as "World's Richest Man", offers Mads Petersen 35 million euros for side gig as personal frites chef; Chris Froome joins "Dancing with the Stars", drops out on night of premiere from "unnamed tropical illness" after disastrous dress rehearsal.  Ugh, can't it be 2023 already?

Well folk(s), them's my predictions, and woe unto the eejit who bets against 'em--and riders, don't say I didn't warn you!

It's Yer New Year's Resolutions for the Peloton!

 Okay, cycling.  You know what you did.  And you oughta be ashamed of yourselves! But even if you're not, what better way to start off the New Year by making a buncha impossible-to-live-up-to resolutions whose failure to complete will cause you relentless guilt and self-loathing the entire next season?  So if you don't know what's good for you, *we* sure do, so riders and assorted other cycling folks, listen up!

1. Julian Alaphilippe: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I outsmarted the lot of you at the World Championships for the second year in a row while you all !@#$ed around fighting for the podium behind rather'n work together to actually reel me in so you could go for the top spot.  So I'm good!

2. Mikel Landa.  I know what I have to do, and I am gonna do it.  That's right, I'm gonna wrap myself up in 50 miles of bubble wrap every time I leave the house, and I am gonna *stay* upright in one piece!

3. Bahrain Merida: in a related resolution, we are going to freakin' cattle prod anyone who gets within 100 meters of Mikel, and any piece of road furniture that dares to exist in his presence we are gonna blast outta the way with a !@#damn cannon.  We'll try to warn the rest of you first though!

4. Toms Skujins: I am going to start an all-potato food truck to follow me around for sustenance--and also serve my fans--all season.  Frites, baked, smashed, mashed, roasted, au gratin, skins, hashed, gnocchi, and latkes.  Someone else can take care of the beer truck!

5. Giro Donne.  I am gonna air *every* stage, *live*, for its *full length*, this year and every year thereafter, including to the US.  We'll take up the issue of adding another 11 stages next year!   

6. Elisa Longo Borghini.  Given the above, isn't it obvious?

7. Euskaltel.  We've conquered the breakaways, we've earned our spots back in the Grand Tours which we never should've had to do anyway, and in 2022, as befits the best climbers on earth, we're bringing home and sealing the deal with the impossibly high mountain finishes we're known for.  Giro, Tour and Vuelta--watch out!

8. Mark Cavendish: I'm going to win the green jersey at the Tour de France, just to stick it to Pat Lefevere.  And no, you don't get a podium pic with me after the way you b*tched about me all year!

9. Any and All World Tour Teams.  What the !@#$ is this travesty? We're gonna #HireSimonClarkeDammit! Hell, even Ineos--that's how desperate the fans are to have him back another season!

10. Remco Evenepoel: I'll shut my yap complaining about my teammates.  I can just take the Worlds without slagging 'em anyway!

11. Anna Kiesenhofer: all right, so you're all gonna be on the lookout for me now.  I'm going to hide discreetly amongst the Belgians, then take half the races I enter next season anyway!

12. Alexander Vinokourov: I don't need to resolve *anything* after my intra-squad coup last year.  Bow, peons!

13. Movistar: we'll ride *for* our GC guy this year, and *not* do everything we can to shepherd some other schmuck's team to victory.  And while we're at it--we get that that trident !@#$ *never works!

14. Last but Not Least, the Fans: We will restrain our signs, leash our dogs, retract our selfie sticks, extinguish our flares, refrain from throwing disgusting bodily emissions on the riders, and for FFS, cover up that hideous TMI neon banana-hammock when we're charging alongside the leader on Mont Ventoux so we don't burn the GC's, or the home viewers', retinas out.  We're serious--that last part of the resolution is non-negotiable!

Well, I guess the rest of you get off the hook easy this year.  But don't think you're out of the running for 2023! 

It's Yer Incredibly Prestigious 2021 racejunkie Awards!

 Well, cycling fans, it's been another glorious, weird, and frankly intermittently shameful year in our beloved peloton, and with the end of 2021 drawing nigh, it's time to reflect seriously upon the year just past with the sort of somber reflection, skilled analysis, obsequious groveling, and low-rent treachery you've both come to expect from we here at racejunkie.  And heck knows, riders and management alike have been up to enough hijinks in even another truncated cycling season to deserve a party.  So what better to celebrate than the good, the bad, and whoa moly, the ugly of our dear cycling with our Incredibly Prestigious 2021 racejunkie Awards?  Prizes--I swear on Euskaltel--for anyone so desperate or craven to claim 'em: (1) a smashing custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap (NOT a !@#damn baseball cap, you freaks); (2) a 100% genuine sports-related trophy with your name and award etched right on it, or, depending on budget, written right on the plaque in exceedingly neat Sharpie; (3) a passel o' racejunkie stickers to stick on stuff, hand out, or throw away (NOT responsible here for any humungous UCI fines incurred for reckless or reckful littering); and (4) eternal adulation or infamy, because unlike us elders whose youthful dumb*ssery mercifully faded into the sunset, the internet forgets nothing.  Anywho, we're grateful for the lot of you, so let's get this embarrassing party started!

Domestique o' the Year: before we get to the big stars--and let's be honest, most of these folks *ought* to be and *should* be big stars in their own right, if they aren't already--let's pause a moment to bow before the true workhorses of any team and every race, the humble domestique.  Shielding their team captain from those bone-snapping moments of inattention within the peloton, setting a blistering pace up a vicious climb to spit out any remotely tired competitors from their spot in GC, blazing a safe path and a perfectly-placed wheel for their sprinter amidst the chaotic argy-bargy of the charge to the line, or even just sacrificing a badly-needed gel or water-bottle, these riders gut themselves into literal post-race vomiting to get their job done.  But of all the amazing work done this year, the most notably heartwarming was Dani Martinez dropping back to scream encouragement to a weaving, exhausted, dangerously-close-to-blowing it Egan Bernal on Sega di Ala at the Giro.  There, I've been nice to Ineos--do I get a pass for what I'm gonna say about 'em in 2022?   

Fan !@#$wit Award: oh my goodness.  Even in a hotly-contested field jam-packed full of flares on oxygen-deprived mountain-top finishes, airborne umbrellas on sketchy descents, and the usual plethora of runaway animal intrusions, this year's award takes the cake.  Allez Opi-Omi for the cameras all you will--but please, please, please stay far enough the hell away from the course that you don't take out half the peloton and 3/4 of their season's goals for it!

Scrawny Little Slap-Fight o' 2021 (Metaphorical Rider Edition): normally, of course, this would go to Gianni Moscon for actually physically sucker-punching some innocent bystander, but this year, we've got the smashing Miguel Angel Lopez-Enric Mas Vuelta a Espana debacle, in which a feeling-pretty-darn-good Lopez was unjustly ordered by his team boss Unzue to play leaden-legs and crush his own chances for glory while coddled teammate Mas pounded blissfully away towards a podium spot.  I mean, I sympathize and all--but Landa put up with ten times this much !@#$ at Movistar, and you don't see him bailing on the side of the road in a huff!

Scrawny Little Slap-Fight o' 2021 (Metaphorical Team Boss Edition): which is worse--what the famously uncouth Quick Step head Patrick Lefevere said about Mark Cavendish when Cav was winning 8,000 stages and the green jersey for him at the Tour, or his disgusting, misogynist, and generally toolish comments about Sam Bennett, whose great betrayal was winning a buncha races then reasonably deciding to head to less verbally-abusive pastures?  Hard to say, because the man is a veritable treasure trove of !@#hattery.  Congratulations Pat--you've just bagged *two* statues today!

Comeback of the Year: if you weren't bawling the first, then every, time that Fabio Jakobsen blasted back from catastrophic injury and painstaking recovery to the front of the field for a triumphant and mercifully safe sprint finish, you are a lying lying liar.  Oh crap, I'm bawling right now--somebody pass the Kleenex !@#dammit!

Unsung Bad!@# Award: Odd Christian Eiking.  Did you *see* that incredible entire week in the red leader's jersey coming by the very fine but quite unheralded Odd Christian Eiking?  No, Nostradumb!@#, you did not--heck, I don't even think *he* did, either.  Love, love, loved every minute!

Class Move o' the Year: sure, cycling, to its great credit, is rife with gracious concessions to well-earned or even sorta punk-!@# victories.  But for an even-dicey legend like multiple everything-winner Alejandro Valverde to 

Mud 'n' Guts Prize:  It's the men's (how cool is it that now we have to specify which one?!) Paris-Roubaix, an edition worthy of the tired designation of "epic"--wet, cold, slippery, muddy, miserable.  And who won the (genuinely) Hell of the North this year?  Not the various Wout vans ostentatiously crowned before the race even began--it was Sonny freakin' Colbrelli in a three-up sprint right in the velodrome that no one could've predicted, collapsing to the ground screaming in joyous disbelief.  So were we at home--chapeau, Sonny!  

Heartbreak o' 2021: Yes, I *know* Lizzie Deignan earned it, I *know* her competitors blew it, but still, none of it makes up for GOAT Marianne Vos not taking the women's inaugural Paris-Roubaix.  That's okay, she's probably got another Valverdean 30 or so seasons left--but let's take it next year, just in case!

Suckface Retirement o' 2021: look, leaving aside the many stellar riders from squads like Qhubeka that have yet to land a contract through no fault of their own--#HireSimonClarkeDammit!--there've been a lot of bummin' retirements this year that are entirely chosen by the parties involved. And while sure, the *riders* are happy, for the rest of us, it just plain sucks.  We love big lug Andre Greipel, there's still time to reconsider!

House (Well, Country) of Pain Award: The women's world championship road race.  The Dutch are the strongest team ever seen on paper *or* on the road and have approximately a squat chance of *someone* in their ranks not taking the gold medal.  So who does it? Yeah, baby, 23 year old Italy's Elisa Balsamo, after a flaming trebuchet of a leadout by the squadra azzurra and a perfect finishing kick by Balsamo.  Let the post-race celebrations--and waaaaaaaay more recriminations--begin!

The Entire Universe is Conspiring Against Him and the Entire Universe Can Just Go Suck It Award: ugh, who else?  Mikel Landa, on the form of his life in a fantastic Giro course, sent skidding by fate, a crappily-marked metal pole, and an entirely faultless Joe Dombrowski across the tarmac and utterly wrecking not only his perfect Grand Tour, but most of the rest of the season.  Yes, it's nice he won the overall at the Vuelta a Burgos.  No, it's not *nearly* enough.  Giro 2022 Mikel--and the rest of you, stay the !@#$ away from him, you hear?    

And Last But Not Least, Punk-!@# Move o' the Year: Matej Mohoric.  Yer Tour de France squad's *just* gotten a once-over by the narcs, and honestly, it's probably a !@#damn miracle you all escaped unscathed.  So what do you discreetly decide to do when you grab Stage 19 of the race with plenty of time to preen before the line?  That's right, you make a total !@#$-you "zip your lips" omerta' gesture directly to UCI, the cameras, and a whoooooole lot of annoyed officials.  Idiot.  Cripes, I miss the innocent if deeply annoying ol' "pistolero" days!

All right road cycling, this concludes the best and the worst you had to offer in 2021--though with two days left to go, who knows what monstrosities you'll come up with? So crack that Champagne, raise that glass, and slink on up to get yer prizes--and let's all try to do a bit better (or worse works too) in 2022!

It's Yer Merry Festivus Gift List for the Peloton!

Chesnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at yer--*what*, we're *still* in this Dystopian Lockdown Craphole Planet for *another* year?! Well, yes, we are, but we needn't let it get us down, because even another holiday season of hammered mulled-wine ugly-sweater Zoom revelry can't stop us from sharing a little laughter, a little cheer, and !@#dammit, a boatload of crap we don't need because there's nothing left in our lives but Doritos, 40-year-old-TV-series binging, and late-night Amazon surfing!  And what's *more* in that persistent holiday spirit, fellow cycling fans, than rewarding our favorite--or infavorite, if that's a word, but it is now--cyclists than with the gifts they truly deserve this year?  Nada! Ergo, it's Yer Merry Festivus Gift List for the Peloton:

1. Mikel Landa: the Giro.  The GIRO. Not the "Jaysus How Many TT Kms Does It Have to Include Every Year To Convince You the Route is Always Absolute Complete !@#$ For You" Tour, the *Giro*, whose course is *perfect* for you this year.  And I mean as your primary goal and smashing GC win for 2022, not as some lousy, doomed training ride for the TdF.  And I know it's pointless and I know you don't want it, but I hereby unilaterally tuck the Vuelta into yer stocking to boot.  Aupa Mikeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel--landismo, beeyotches!

2. Alejandro Valverde: oh, c'mon, you want that intermittently disgraced, ever-wily ol' dog to take one more round of Ardennes Classics and a coupla Grand Tour stages--hell, why not a podium spot?-- for a send-off, assuming he *doesn't* tack yet another year on, which at the sprightly age of 847 I'm *still* not counting out.  A guilty-pleasure gift for all of us of which Santa can be heartily ashamed.  I'm at peace with it!

3. Alexander Vinokourov: You thing he needs anything from some freak in a red velvet suit, you mewling weaklings?  He crushed up and spit out his entire well-heeled team management structure single-handedly in approximately a two-day period this autumn and got Astana, its riders, its staff, and its gigantic pile of dough and influence *right* back where it belongs--under his thumb, baby!  Seriously, you think a Marshmallow Santa's gonna hold up to *that*?

4. Remco Evenepoel: An Edit function.  Sure, he's no worse than say, a baby Cav or frankly any junior sprinter in his incredible ability to convey gratitude by way of relentless arrogant insults to others, but for all his powerful riding he's still just a wee thing who needs only a little help to learn the ropes and rein it in it with the desperate-for-entertainment cycling press.  Ok Remco, take a deep breath, count slowly backwards from three--*now* see what comes outta your brain and into the microphone!

5. Marianne Vos.  Road, cross, mountain--damn, is there anything the GOAT *doesn't* already own?  Just one thing, folks: Paris-Roubaix.  And if she doesn't win this before she retires for the sole sexist !@#$ty reason that it didn't exist for her to pound into submission until the very last years of her road career, it will be a crime against her and against all sport that will echo through time and space for eternity or til the beer 'n' frites run out.  Now cycling gods, get the hell outta her way! 

6. Patrick Lefevere: A zipper. For his mouth, of course.  Is there any rider bringing you gigantic accolades who you *won''t* smack down into a quivering nub to stroke your massive ego?  Thought not--but I guess the poor boys of Wolfpack will find out next year.  Oh right, and I support women's cycling.  Not that you don't all still suck, but my publicist sure says not to say so!

7. Mark Cavendish: I hate to say it, because he's not my favorite rider by a long shot, but I truly wish this guy another Tour de France sprint win.  Just to stick it to Lefevere, but still, it's a nice present, right?

8. Bernard Hinault--YOU CAN TAKE MY STAGE-WIN RECORD AND SHOVE IT UP YER--um, stocking, I meant stocking! A genuine pat on the back for a legend who dialed it back and ultimately gave Cav the sporting good wishes he earned.  That, *and* he can still kick your ass!      

9. Anna Keisenhofer: Sure, she's already had a pretty good year and all; I mean, what more does she need than her stunningly unpredicted women's Olympic road race gold medal against one of the most formidable fields in history?  Well, this being the women's peloton, I'm just gonna go straight to a humungous bucket o' cash.  And while you're at it, get this woman *another* truckload--you can start your own damn World Tour team if you want!

10. Miguel Angel Lopez: An athletic cup.  Because he's gonna need that protection when he pulls that crap on his new teammates and his DS tries to kick him in the nuts!

11. Andre Greipel: One more year and one more win.  Okay, I know *he's* done--but yeah, I'm that lousy old aunt who's gonna give you itchy wool socks for Christmas whether you like it or not!

12. The Peloton: *One*, just *one* season in which some execrable !@#wit doesn't take half of 'em down into a bone-busted road-rashed pile o' agony with a stupid sign, promotional tchotchke, selfie stick, wandering dog, garden flood, or, for god's sake, even an inadvertent car blundering into the course.  Stay safe, everybody--because we *really* don't want to see Tony Martin that pissed off ever again!

13. Last But Not Least, My Faithful Reader(s): May the mud smear your cobblestones, the rain pour upon your cross races, the sun shine upon those treacherous descents, and, above all, may every race in 2022 be free to be packed to the gills with all the riotous, drunken, joyful roadside fans the besieged host town can  handle.  Merry Festivus to all--now let's go get us some eggnog!  

It's Yer 10 Things I'm Thankful for This Thanksgiving (And a Few I'm Damn Well Not)!

 Yes, it's almost Thanksgiving in America, that deeply troubling holiday whose contradictory ideas of gratitude and shameful atrocity we can only assuage by watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, gorging ourselves into an overprivileged, pants-unbuttoning stupor, watching giant overpaid padded jocks crash into each other for our perverse enterntainment and their almost certainly latent future permanent injury, and trying not to nut-punch Uncle Paranoid Conspiracy Theorist when he belatedly informs all 30 people he's just infected that he's refused to be vaccinated because of something some !@#$wit former MTV host pulled out of his !@#, all before a frenzied next-day internet spending spree buying crap we don't want or need but can't get anyway due to problems with the supply chain.  Ah, the holidays!  Anyway, we've nonetheless got a lot to be thankful for here at racejunkie--at least in our happy little bubble of pro cycling fandom--and of course a few we're not, so let's get crackin' dear reader(s)!

Things We're Thankful For:

1. The Giro d'Italia 2022 Course.  With several intimidating mountain stages, about 4 smashing mountaintop finishes, and a puny less than 30k of time trialing--and some of that even hilly!--there's even *more* to love than usual about this year's Corsa Rosa.  Frankly, it's almost Froome-ishly tailor-made for we-dearly-love-so-you-faithless-haters-can-just-!@#$-right off Mikel Landa.  Now Bahrain, you encase that fragile boy in a mile of bubble wrap and cocoon 'im with teammates so no-one can take him out in some stupid crash next May, you hear?  And play him some happy music and keep any stupid demoralizing comments outta the press, while you're at it!  And buy him a teddy bear! And...

2. Holy crap Elisa Balsamo is the new road World Champ!

3. Holy crap Alapanache is the new road World Champ! 

4. Euskaltel. Didja see what a nice season they had this year, didja? And with an annual budget of Peter Sagan's one-night benders, no less!  My little orange heart near bursts with excitement when these wee things take a flyer on the steeps.  Aupaaaaaaaaaaa grandes and let's make our case for the World Tour in 2022!

5. Movistar. Yeah, you read right! Why? Because their inevitably !!@#ed-up Grand Tour tactics--no matter who they have as riders in any given year--are a flat-out gift even to teams that don't nearly look so strong for GC on paper.  That, and Mikel escaped Team Craphole, so why should I care what happens?  Keep it up, kids--but do let that wily ol' guilty-pleasure battle-ax Valverde bushwhack his team leader in peace for at least one more Vuelta stage!

6. Patrick Lefevere.  Down on your luck?  He's got your back--albeit with a knife in it.  Surging with a career-capping, record-tying, press-thrilling string of prestigious victories absolutely no-one thought you might be capable of anymore?  He's first in line to remind you that you *still* suck!  And don't even get me started on the utterly reprehensible analogies he'll make when you bail out for your old squad after he's humiliated you in the press all season.  Stub your toe, poor baby?  Well, put a !@#$in' ice cube on it, give me back all my contract money, and just be grateful I'm not dropping a Paris-Roubaix cobblestone on yer head, you ungrateful piece of !@#$!  Here, let me pose with that trophy of yours...

7. Women's Paris Roubaix.  It may have taken over a century, and they may have cut out the legendary Arenberg--alarmed by all the uteruses that scattered the roadside after the delicate ladies tried it out on a recon ride, apparently--but still, it's great to have one at last!  Only other gripe: yes, I *desperately*, *desperately* wanted GOAT Marianne Vos to take it, because if she doesn't ever get to because of a stupid twist of fate and bad timing, it'll be a horrid, horrid shame.  But now, there's always next year--you got this Marianne!

8. The Giro Donne. It's in the World Tour, it's outta the World Tour.  It's broadcast, it's not broadcast.  But the closest thing we've got to a real women's Grand Tour is one of the most beautiful races on the planet, and is indeed back in the highest ranks for 2022 where it belongs.  Minor issue: it's scheduled the very same *month* as the Women's Tour de France.  Giro-Tour double, anyone?

9. Peter Sagan's Publicity Team.  Drunk off his !@# and socked a cop in April, and it didn't even become public until November?  Damn, that's some nice work.  Bet Tom Boonen wouldn't have minded that kind of help a few years back!

10. And Last But Not Least: My dear reader(s).  Over a decade--geez, like 15 years!--of dreck and obnoxious tweets, my relentless apologism for randomly favored riders, and miraculously, and generously, you--whether singular or plural--have somehow, somewhy stuck with me.  Thank you ever so much, and here's to a smashing 2022!

And A Few Things I'm Damn Well Not: 

1. What?! Mikel Nieve honest-to-God doesn't yet have a contract yet?  He's an ex-and-ever-Carrot!  He's a phenomenal mentor to whippernapper riders!  He's only 37--that's like 6 in Alejandro Valverde years!  He won a humungous mountain stage in the 2018 Giro for chrissakes! #HireMikelDammit you clowns!

2. We love Andre Greipel retired this year. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

3. We love Anna Van der Breggen retired this year. Waaaaaaaaaaaah!

4. The Women's Tour de France.  Yap, I'm grateful, yap.  But it's not like they can't handle 21 stages--there's an entire group of van-supported women who've been racing the *entire damn course* *every damn year* ahead of the men, without a billionth of the adulation that Lachlan Morton gets.  Can we just concede they all aren't witches or whatever stupid sexist medieval crap is holding this up, and get this *entire* show on the road?  Y'know, !@#$ it--let's just expand the Giro Donne first, and get a women's Vuelta underway! 

5. What?! Mikel Nieve honest-to-God doesn't have a contract yet for next year? Yes, I *know* I'm repeating myself--but this !@#$ing *sucks*.  #HireMikelDammit or burn in hell--or have to listen to Evenepoel whine about how oppressed he is, whatever--for all eternity!

Well folks, them's mine.  Whatever you celebrate, or don't, this fine holiday season, let's skip the stupid American football, crank up some 'cross, and wait for Sagan to dish up more sleazy gossip this year!

My Fantasy Patrick Lefevere-Quick Step Press Conference

Patrick Lefevere: Good morning.  I've called you all here today to address totally unfounded rumors of bad morale, erratic management, and my riders' TOTAL INEXCUSABLE !@#$WITTERY here at Destillcantspellit-Quick Step.  And I understand that most of the team is joining us today.  Great! Let's get started!

First, I'd like to say how very pleased I am that one of our top sprinters, Sam Bennett, is looking in such fine form ahead of the Worlds.  (Bennett walks in) What are you doing walking, you bastard? I'm stuck paying you your whole !@#$ing salary now that you meandered for 7 kilometers in some stupid race, so get on your !@#damn bike right now and earn it! Ride, you lazy git! Ride!

Julian Alaphilippe (pleasantly): hi, boss!

PL: And *you*, pretty boy, don't think those fancy rainbow stripes mean jack !@#$ ! Two more weeks and they'll belong to someone else and then you're just one more scrawny chump raising his arms before the line like an idiot!  Hey, can we get a photo of us together over here for tomorrow's L'Equipe?  C'mere, pal o' mine!

Next, I want to address my recent comments about the legendary Mark Cavendish, who completely out of nowhere grabbed 4 stages, the green jersey, made everyone fall in love with him all over again, and also earned us a boatload of money and fantastic publicity at the Tour de France this year.  You'll ride the Tour next year or not at my irrational whim, you overhyped has-been!  Hinault was the only one with the balls to call you out before he backtracked like a !@#damn coward!  And oh Cav--you mind giving me a signed green jersey to waive at the press ahead of every sign-in next year?

Moving back to our team's phenomenal achievements which are entirely due to me, I'd also like to congratulate our peerless lead-out man, Florian Senechal, on his accidental stage-win victory at the Vuelta.  Of course if you'd !@#$ing *listened* to me and plucked your inflated head out of your !@# for ten seconds, you'd've known Jakobsen'd lost your wheel, you hopelessly incompetent amateur!  By the way, you're a key part of the team, so I'm re-signing you for two more years and also cutting your pay by 50 percent.  And you'll shut up and *like* it!

Also, in case you hadn't noticed, *two* of our riders formed entirely under my personal guidance, Jannik Steimle and Mattia Cattaneo won *two* races for our team in the last 24 hours alone.  You feeling confident you're gonna take that World Champion jersey that I'm gonna tattoo on your !@#damn face so everyone knows I'm the reason you won it this year, Bennett? HEY YOU, STYBAR--QUIT PLAYING WITH MY BALLS! (Zdenek drops croissant he's eating, raises hands in the air)

In conclusion, I'd like to ask you all to give a round of applause to our incredible "Wolfpack," which has done such an excellent job and whom I value so very highly with all of my heart.  Hah, "Wolfpack" my !@#--it oughta be "WUSSPACK," you pathetic hacks! And you too, all you scandal-mongering gossip-whore so-called 'journalists'! I'll smack you all down on Twitter! I'll congratulate you all on a job well done! I'll slag you to your mothers! I'll...(Davide Cassani drags Lefevere from room, still screaming)  

It's Yer Incredibly Prestigious 2021 Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Awards!

Feeling a burning desire to sit out on a scorching barren mountainside all day waiting for 2 minutes of GC action to come by? Wondering what to do with your days now that you don't have 6 hours of nothin' going but the scenery during a sprint stage?  Staring glumly at the carrots in your salad because they remind you of the Euskaltel kit you should be watching on TV right now? Well then you're in Vuelta withdrawal, honey, and we've got the cure--it's Yer Incredibly Prestigious 2021 Vuelta a Espana racejunkie Awards!  Prizes, for those so desperately needy or just plain shameless enough to claim them--and I swear this on my Holy Once-Eroski Cap o' Destiny, so you know I mean business--(1) a dashing custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap; (2) a shining handful of handsome racejunkie stickers to deface yer bike, yer team bus, or the DS you just pissed off; (3) eternal internet embarrassment (or glory); and (4) a genuine golden-hued high-school-sports trophy with yer name *and* yer prestigious award either engraved or extremely neatly written upon it in black Sharpie, whichever you prefer (but honestly, my handwriting *cannot* be beat).  So change outta that stinking time trial kit, put on yer best sponsor-logo polo, and let's get this party started!

Crash o' the Race (Totally Random Edition): look, a lotta skin got shed and a lotta bones got busted this Vuelta, and we wish them all speedy, safe, and full recoveries.  But sometimes, a crash happens that is just plain weird, and fortunately doesn't cause anybody any actual harm.  This year's champ: Astana's we love Ion Izagirre, who for no apparent reason whatsoever veered right across the road and bam! straight into his soigneur.  Hey, at least he didn't knock 'im into a pile of barbed wire--well done, amiright?

Dumb-@#$ Tactics o' the Vuelta: normally, this goes to Movistar for its perpetual-idiot endless-fail "trident" GC strategy--which, of course, *was* in fact its usual prize-winning disaster.  But *this* time, Movistar shares the glory with none other than Team Ineos, who successfully shepherded Jumbo-Visma's Primoz Roglic to the top of every mountain, blasted apart the weaker GC contenders with unsustainable attacks, and were crucial factors in 3 of his 4 nut-kicking stage wins.  Accordingly, these master tacticians also bag the Domestique o' the Vuelta (Individual Division) Award.  Good job, gentlemen--and just maybe, you'll actually ride for *your* guys next year!

The Odd Couple (Well, Actually Just One Guy) Award:  Y'know, from inaugural Grand Tour stage wins to unexpected breakaway successes to just plain guys *not* crashing on treacherous wet descents, there were actually a lot of sweet, heartwarming moments in this Vuelta.  But for my money, the most truly adorable was watching hardworking but not overwhelmingly coddled Odd Christian Eiking realize he'd snagged the red jersey, and then defend it, successfully, for a giant portion of the whole race.  Class work, young man!  

Domestique o' the Vuelta (Individual Edition): y'know, after a sorta rocky first week, Sepp Kuss stepped up and did massive yeoman's work for Primoz Roglic, again.  But for sheer beauty, for absolute perfection, nothing, nothing can beat the textbook job that Lawson Craddock did for Magnus Cort in the last 5k of Stage 19.  Beautiful pacing, perfect tactics, flawless lead-out--a true masterclass in domestiqueicity.  Hell, race organizers, get Craddock up on that podium too, whydontcha? 

Energizer Bunny Award: Alejandro Valverde.  He attacked from the second he was let out of the team bus, and didn't stop until his cringe-inducing but mercifully not too damaging race-ending crash into a ravine. And then, he almost immediately posted video of him back on the bike trainer.  Not to humblebrag, but we called him coming back for 2022.  And most likely, he'll be back in 2023.  And 2024. And...

Weeper Moment of the Race: All right, admit it--you were bawling like a baby when Fabio Jakobsen took his first (and his second, and his third) stage win at his first Grand Tour since his horrific and damn nearly deadly accident last year.  And admit it--you were bawling like a baby when Alejandro Valverde finally conceded bodily defeat after his scary pothole-fueled wipeout and collapsed in tears into the sympathetic arms of his team. Oh, for cripes' sake, I'm outta tissues--from now on I'm just keeping an extra box right next to my Euskaltel cap!

If At First You Don't Succeed Award: Egan Bernal.  You can complain he wasn't up to winning form all you want--and to be fair, he's not only had ages of back problems, but blames his post-COVID weight gain and lack of training time to boot-- but what you *can't* do is complain he didn't honor the race, which he rode, at every opportunity in which his legs had an ounce of power, with the same grinta that won that man a Giro.  Not the hugest fan of his team to say the least, but he did them proud!

Balance Is Restored to the Universe Award: oh, Euskaltel.  After years of threatened and actual collapse, perpetual money problems, and just plain disrespect for your stellar legacy, our dear Carrots were finally awarded the Grand Tour spot they deserved.  And while they didn't actually take a stage, they *did* light almost every one up by leaping into the day's break and attacking therefrom.  Welcome back, beloved Carrots--and you better be watching and handing out your wildcards accordingly, Giro and Tour de France!

It's Not Easy Being Green Award: Fabio Jakobsen, dos!  Yep, our resurgent champ finally showed his true sprinter colors by going ape!@#$ on his teammates when he lost their wheel and one of his lead-outs inadvertently took the win.  Considering all he's been through, it was sorta endearing, actually--though I might not have thought that if I were Florian Senechal at that moment!

Big Blue Marble...In Spaaaace! Prize: Gino Mader, who promised to donate 1 euro to an environmental organization for every rider he finished ahead of at this year's Vuelta.  And as befits the winner of the Young Rider's Jersey, Gino ended up donating a smashing 4,529 euros to save the planet.  Chapeau Gino--we and Mother Earth all thank you!

Hard Man o' the Race: Mikel Nieve, who busted significant chunks off his face and body right out the start gate, and was still stitched and bandaged til he crossed the line at the final time trial.  All that, while being (1) a once and eternal Carrot, of course; (2) a formidably indefatigable worker on the course; and (3) a fearsome road captain to boot.  BikeExchange, *please* don't let this guy ever retire--hell, he's still like 50 years younger than Valverde!

!@#$ All Y'All Prize: well, it's not exactly a prize, but all you faithless Landa haters polluting the internet with your heretic filth can just go straight to hell.  The man just won the Vuelta a Burgos, he's still hurt and exhausted from his stupid Giro crash which he did not even remotely cause, he stuck it out as long as he could until a brief attack proved he couldn't, and he was gracious upon exit to his squad.  Landismo, beeyotches--just wait 'til next year!

Auxiliary When Life Gives You Lemons Award: no, you !@#$ers, Mikel's not the lemon--his crappy Giro crash and subsequent exhaustion from his bangin' overall win at Burgo is the !@#damn lemon.  But nonetheless, with Mikel fading and ultimately retiring, Bahrain Merida above and beyond stepped up to the plate, with Damiano Caruso taking a huge stage win, Jack Haig--who was strong every damn day, and earned it--securing third overall after Lopez' ill-considered exit, and Gino Mader taking the young rider's jersey from Grand Tour champ and no small potatoes Egan Bernal.  This, after they'd tired themselves for multiple stages helping Mikel along fair and square.  Not a bad set of results even *without* losing your intended GC contender!

I'm Over *Here*, !@#holes! Prize: winning a Grand Tour stage is the pride and highlight of any young rider's career, and typically comes with all the hype, glory, and accolades that the feat merits.  But spare a thought for young Clement Champoussin, who had the extraordinarily bad luck to fight off a surging GC and take a spectacular victory on the very same stage that near-lock-on-the-podium Miguel Angel Lopez missed a crucial split, went bull!@#$ after apparent orders not to chase back, and just plain climbed off his bike and quit the race in disgust after a screaming match with his DS.  In return, poor Champoussin was left out high and dry in both social media *and* in the news reports.  Can we just give the kid a podium-ceremony do-over? 

I Guess I Gotta Give Him Something Award: oh Primoz.  Three Vueltas in a row, 4 stage wins, two crashes and even balancing on that stupid railing on the rest day without injury--what more does one man really need?  Still, he oughta get *something* here for his relentless stomping of his rivals, and his hilariously minimalist post-race interviews.  Oh right, the red jersey--but even better, this!

And Last But Not Least, Punk-!@# Move o' the Race: yes, what happened with Superman Lopez--but not necessarily the way that you think.  Fine, Lopez missed the split after knocking himself senseless winning the queen stage, and while that's just how it rolls sometimes, and barring physical or mental ailment was a total jack!@# to dismount in a hissy fit and bail outta the race virtually within sight of the finish line for the whole show upon realizing he'd lost his podium, Unzue apparently ordering him *not* to try to chase back to protect Mas I guess *and* screaming at him for being understandably pissed about it was jerkfacery on a whole 'nother level.  Adding insult to injury, internal rival Mas was left to peacefully concentrate on the task at hand and was blissfully uninformed about what occurred until after he'd stuck with Rogla til almost the end and handily preserved his second place.  C'mon, you would've paid to be at Movistar's team dinner that night--though I suppose it was probably lucky we all stayed out of the way of any flying cutlery!

Well dear Vuelta fans, that's this year's race done and dusted, so let's hand out the prizes, raise a glass to our noble winners, and...wait, get ready for Paris-Roubaix FFS?!