Vroom, Froome!; And, Yer Philosophical Race-Route Question o' the Week

Alp, I Need Somebody/Alp, I Need Anybody: yes, we're through the mighty Alps, and if *I* were Brad Wiggins, the first thing on *my* agenda after tying up the final maillot jaune in Paris would be, who the hell am I gonna hire to take me up the mountains next year after Chris Froome bails on me for a rock-star contract and his own team-leadership glory? Me, I sure hope it's not the spectacular Tejay Van Garderen, whose strength, discretion, loyalty, and relentless optimism for beleaguered team leader Cadel has made him a real pleasure to watch this week. Wise you are, grasshopper, for not listening to everyone telling you to let Cadel suck it while you pedal off for solo glory--your GC turn will come soon enough, it's clear!

Millar Time: y'know, just when I was feeling all genuinely happy for St. David Millar to take a great stage in gracious honor of a rider who suffered a terrible tragedy, and thinkin' he'd put all that ostentatious camera-slut wah-wah over how reformed he is and how sorry he is (he got busted) and yap, yap, yap, he has to go and blow it: yep, there he was, literally *begging* the press like some smug endless-loop self-flagellating martyr to call him an ex-doper. Jaysus, Millar, we get it! You haven't won a race in umpteen years because you're clean and everyone else is dirty! Except today! You're a testament to all that's holy and good! An example of purity and moral grace to all of us lowly flawed miscreant sinner devil-dwellin' scum you're forced to share the earth with! Can I *please* get some support here for "just shut the !@#$ up about it and ride your bike already"? Oh, Jan Ullrich, come back and lie to us in those dulcet German tones then retreat into dignified omerta just once more...

Does This Tour Blow?: no, not the 2 days in the Alps. And watching the French ride well in their own Grand Tour for 2 straight years is not only shocking, but downright fascinating. But come on, if you're gonna stick us with 8000 kilometers of time trialing, 42 consecutive sprint finishes, *and* then make the GC contenders haul !@# up a buncha peaks, then freakin' make them finish there, or at least down a worthy descent that'll separate the skilled from the Schl--uh, less skilled so we get some actual drama on the GC front, not 80k after that of twiddly bull!@#$ every day. I mean, Cadel's got *one* stage in the Pyrenees and this Tour is done--what the hell's he supposed to do, bushwhack Wiggo like a chump during a nature break? No, we don't want to encourage the guys to cheat by whacking 'em senseless with vertical gackfests every minute--but damn, give the final podium *some* drama after the 10th stage, willya?

Finally, Yer Preview: uh-uh, it's another spri---zzzzzzzzzzzzzz....snort.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...is it over yet?

It's the Try-Out for the Tour de France, Baby!

Lookin' Good...Uh, Some of You: yes, the traditional Tour de France trying grounds, the Dauphine', is upon us, the brief prologue is complete, and a few things are clear: Wiggo (second at 1 second back) and Cadel (a respectable 9th at 5) look mighty fine, and Andy Schleck...well, let's just suggest that at 102nd at 28 back, and with all the time trial miles at the upcoming Tour, Johan Bruyneel's not exactly gonna be crackin' a champagne bottle for his maillot jaune hopeful unless it's over his !@#damn head. Add to that this race's parcours including a 53k time trial on stage 4 and a weird downhill finish on what could otherwise be an Andy-friendly stage to Morzine, and Schleckino's boss-man ain't likely to be happy ahead of July. Head for the hills, Andy, *now*--at least in those, you're supposed to be able to outrun 'im!

A Humble Proposal: and, I see there's been just a raft of UCI "whereabouts violations" this year, and for the simple error of intentionally avoiding a wholly-deserved drug te--uh, accidentally forgetting to call into their nannies every six seconds--it seems to me a lot of people are getting awa--uh, wrongfully accused of nefarious acts against morality. My solution: the Official Racejunkie Electric Dog-Collar Tracking Machine! Yes, under the fair and sensible control of Noble Crusader and Exemplar of All Fairness Pat "Dick" McQuaid himself, strap one of these puppies on the latest crop o' suspect riders, let 'em just try one impromptu secret trip to, say, Dr. Ferrari's place for a "barbecue", and zappo!--your rider stays safely put under the known, tender and entirely lawful ministrations of his own team docs. Wait a minute...

Yer Heartwarming Sacrifice of the Week: finally, big thanks to fervent anti-cheating advocate David Millar, who, despite some petty suggestions that a single silly doping poz you're ever so grateful occurred to cleanse your conscience oughta nonetheless keep one outta the unimpeachable Olympics, has announced himself reluctantly at the British Olympics team's disposal, if only to help Cav and set an example for the impressionable kiddies. Y'know, it's things like this that restore my faith in humanity. Landis, maybe we'll finally see you back in action this year!