And the Ardennes Are Off! Plus, Brad Wiggins Loves the Giro! He Swears It!

Czech-mate!: well, with all the hype over nowhere-to-be-seen Sagan and everywhere-to-be-seen world champ Gilbert (who would've been lovely for the win, but still), a fine run by Gerrans, a total !@#$ (and Tour-prep-hosing) crash for we love Purito Rodriguez nursing his left knee after he whacked into some dimwit who glued his wheel into deep mud at the side of the road, Valverde creeping everyone out as usual by grabbing the sprint for second, *and* a smashing long breakaway by Euskaltel's Mikel Astarloza of all people, it's SaxoBank's totally underrated Roman Kreuziger who grabs the win at Amstel Gold! Body count: besides poor Purito, a really nasty crash for Thomas "the Grimace" Voeckler, first rumored to have a broken femur, then a busted shoulder, then finally (for now) just a snapped collarbone. Get well soon, Thomas--it's so much more preferable watching you contort your face into a scream just, say, signing in to the race start! Here, proud teammate Alberto Contador with the insta-tweet: Congrats Roman!

If The Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie, That's Amore: meantime, not-defending Tour de France champ Brad Wiggins swears to Italy how much he really, really loves the Giro and really, really doesn't care about the Tour, particularly asserting he really, really has no interest in being one of those selfish losers who aspires to win the Tour de France two or even three times, and, to boot, he wouldn't even mind taking the Vuelta a Espana some day. Um, Brad, if you're riding the *Giro* this year because you're afraid the Tour's parcours don't suit you (and why you think the Giro *is* better for you is beyond me), have you taken a look at the *Vuelta's* all-vertical roads-o'-death the last couple of years? Of course, Froomey could always lug you uphill again, but damn, even he'd need some sled dogs or a scooter or a tractor to drag your !@# uphill all over Spain for the win. Now bow, *bow* to the noble Giro gods 'til they're convinced you're sincere enough to ride it, you ungrateful Tour-winning peon!

Aupa, Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!: finally, despite the best efforts of that complete tool Pat "Dick" McQuaid, our dear if wholly discombomulated Euskaltel-Euskadi is back at last, ripping through the Vuelta a Castilla e Leon and, with Mikel's bitchin' break in Amstel today, finally building enough confidence to carry we love Samuel Sanchez to the Giro. Eat his dust in May, boys--remember, he's already been King of the Mountains at the Tour!

Uh, At What Point *Do* You Expect More From Andy?

Yer Racejunkie Crisis-Management Quote O' the Week: so with Frank Schleck pronouncing himself delighted with his 12th place finish in Amstel Gold (and, because I'm a lady, I won't point out that we love Samu Sanchez dropped his chain at a key moment and still came in 7th), and wildly complimenting his baby bro for his brilliant work to get him there, Team RadioSkank honcho Kim Andersen is slightly less off the crack pipe in this assessment: "We don't expect more from Andy at this point." Now, of *course* the boy shouldn't be anywhere near on form when he's timing it to peak for the Tour de France. But correct me if I'm wrong here, even in April, oughtn't his form be *somewhat* north of "oh, !@#$"? Well, don't worry, as Johan Bruyneel's been indicating, I'm sure he's gonna be ready to kick Cadel's !@# in the time trial!

Freire Shocka: in other news, it was a damn brave--and damn near successful--move by we love Oscar Freire at Amstel, and a freakout surprise of a win (c'mon, wasn't it to you too?) by Enrico Gasparotto, and I gotta say, if Ivan really wants the Giro, Liquigas is looking pretty bitchin' so far this year. So Ivan, time to give us a real sense of your sweat equity at the Giro del Trentino this week--let's hope you're in as good a form as you are dashing a chef!

Good Thing There's No More Doping In the Peloton: dang, I know money's always a factor in the doping game, but couldn't our latest drug-snarfing dimwit Denis Galimzyanov have chosen a substance slightly less detectable THAN THE ONE DRUG EVERY SINGLE CYCLIST HAS TESTED POSITIVE FOR SINCE 2006 to use? This, my little Katusha friend, is why comity among nations is so important--you couldn't have kissed up to some *real* pros in the business like the Spaniards for some top-grade tips?

Fleche (Fleche!) Fleche for Fantasy!: finally, before we get to what's sure to be a rippin' Liege-Bastogne-Liege this weekend, Wednesday brings us the exciting Fleche-Wallone, and, while it's an awful tragedy I've got a vicious contagious and truly disgusting stomach virus that day and sadly can't come in to the office, my money's on sneak competition Jelle Vanendert, because not only is he almost named after one of the coolest desserts on the planet, even the Fleche organizers have no confidence in what few favorites still remain. Surprise us, Jelle--or heck, maybe one of the Schlecks'll do that even more! Here's the parcours, including the fearsome Mur de Huy: Allez Jeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllleeeeeee!

Time for Amstel Gold, Baby!

Yer Pre-Race Roundup and Carnage Report: yes, with Roubaix in the rear-view and Quick Step's Patrick "Pay Cut" Lefevere suddenly realizing that his own lucrative career is !@#$ed if he lets Tom Boonen defect to another squad, it's time to move on to Amstel Gold and, soon, Liege, baby, but one guy who won't be at Amstel is poor we love Cadel Evans, whose bruised femur is keeping out of his (largely support, because he's not an !@#hat) role in the weekend's festivities. Get well soon Cadel! Still on tap for Liege: Damiano "Mr. Clean" Cunego, implicated in the latest Italian doping investigation of mostly-Lampre boys but passionately defended by the hometown press. Dang, I *knew* that last tattoo of his was tryin' to tell us something!

You're Goin' Down, Scarponi!: and, in hot Italian doping news, I see the narcs descended on the once-disreputable-and-lately-pretty-freakishly-impressive Michele Scarponi, bagging the notorious performance-enhancing drugs, um, powdered milk, a common legal anti-inflammatory, and Enervit bars. Blood-doping my !@#--you turn up with a packet of Swiss Miss hot chocolate next time, and we are gonna *fry* you, sucker!

Reason No. 8,140,398 Why Jens Voigt Is a God: really, is there anyone with half a brain--and I proudly count myself among such stellar company--who *doesn't* acknowledge the great Jens as a higher life-form than we mere lowly plebeian ground-dwelling spuds? This time, it's because Jens directed a big fat thank-you to the smashing--and often borderline deranged--Basque (and ergo Euskaltel) fans for their bitchin' support over the years. Clearly, the rabid Basque tifosi--already rooting for the best climbers on earth (shut up! I still love Iban! shut up!)--rock on two fronts. Woo-hoo Jens and the orange army--and bow, beeyotches!