Rio Whaaaaat? It's Yer Vuelta a Espana in Preview, Part Tres: the 'Nother Guys, and Roundup Stuff! #LV2016

We've got the course down. We've got the GC. What *don't* we have? Damn right, everybody *else* who's going hell-bent for leather for sunburnt glory, and all the last minute news, unfounded gossip, and prurient speculation you need (well, probably don't need) to know! Ergo:

The Missing: Who's *not* here? Tragically, not Froome, but even more tragically, these guys: Sky's Mikel Landa with a "hip injury", which can only mean one of two things: (1) he's got a hip injury, or (2) those !@#$ers at Sky have corrupted 'im. It better be option (1), Brailsford you goon! Also out: defending 2015 campeon Fabio Aru, and last year's bizarro-world revelation Tom Dumoulin, who, frankly, has no business in Vuelta terrain anyway, except maybe lounging in a folding chair by the roadside with a crisp glass of rose' and a nice luncheon with the other fans cheering the *riders* on. Worst of all, Purito--WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The Sprinters: all right, you hard-core Vuelta freaks, quit laughin'! Yes, despite the wholesale bail-out of those sprinters with better sense, there *are* a few at this race, at least until Cavondonga sends them whimpering home like a kid who just got a bagful o' broccoli and Brussels sprouts for trick-or-treat on Halloween. Tyler Farrar (Dimension Data), who, late word has it, has even more epic hair this year than Marcel Kittel. (bite me! we still love him!). Reigning Spanish road race champ JJ Rojas (Movistar). Master o' Suavity Benna-Jet (Tinkoff). Uh...other guys! Oh, poor dears, at least they've thrown a *few* stages in there for you...just pretend all those mountains are--nope, I got nuthin', it's all an uphill death march and you're gonna be feelin' it!

The Stage Hunters: look, unless Froome's teammates chew their shoes off the pedals to free themselves from the trap they're in, they ain't getting let out for a stage win unless and until Froome *says* they can. And frankly, he won't. Sorry boys--it's "Vive la Revolucion" and you overthrow your captain, or you're hosed! Guys who actually have a chance: for the breaks and roleurs, Philippe Gilbert (BMC). LL Cool Sanchez (Astana). Michal Kwiatkowski, Peter Kennaugh--oops, they're Sky, they're doomed! Tejay Van Garderen (BMC), who's usually pegged for GC but is begging off in favor of Samuel Sanchez and hoping for a breakaway stage win instead (can you imagine, say, Cav and his huge ego doing that for someone else)? Andrew Talansky, and yes, I know you all want him for the overall. And did I mention I just plain like Rein Taaramae whether you seriously think he's gonna bag a win or not? For the truly climbiest, besides the GC contenders we covered already: Darwin Atapuma (BMC). Damn, they've got a bangin' squad this year! Pierre Rolland (Cannondale). We love ex-Euskaltel's Igor Anton (Dimension Data). Markel Irizar from Trek, an ex-Carrot--natch!(and we still love you Haimar Zubeldia!) Everyone at Caja Rural. And of course, the canny s.o.b. Michele Scarponi (Astana) who, having buried himself (and parked his bony !@# on the side of the road for 15 hours to help his leader) for his team at the last Grand Tour, and with no other road captain at the Vuelta to speak of, will surely have more than a few rocket-fueled cracks at the summit. Last but not least: by this year's results, whatever 6-foot-8 hulking Dutch weightlifter they stick in at the last minute to absolutely obliterate 2017 Paris-Roubaix champ Nairo Quintana. How do you say "Red Jersey" in Dutch again?

The Forecast: yeah, it's boring and I'm a ween. But it *matters*, first off because the poor Belgians're gonna spontaneously combust once they hit the unfiltered sun and heat of the Basque mountains, and second, 'cause it can determine the race. Sadly, the forecast for tomorrow's team time trial is lovely, meaning it's too late to back out of it now, suckers!

Roundup Stuff!: finally, as the cycling portion of the Rio Olympics winds down, let's take a moment to celebrate Peter Sagan's if not win, at least highly entertaining continuous-wheelie ride in the mountain bike competition, as well as his shiny new medals in the kierin, team pursuit, omnium, BMX, and the men's and women's road race even though he wasn't actually riding 'em. Nice work there Saganator! Meantime, Mark Cavendish profusely apologized for "not whacking into that bloody wanker hard en--uh, that accident!" And, for those of you just itchin' for early news of the Worlds, please be advised that giant and deceptively friendly German Andre Greipel has already informed his nation that's he not !@#damn going there to share team captaincy, which, I presume, is German for "wash my shorts and carry my chamois cream, Kittel you wuss!" Ah, our beloved cycling--now, get out your Basque flags, don't you dare ever root for Alejandro Valverde, and Alberto, it's time to stick it to that !@#hat Oleg Tinkov and take on the top podium spot in the Vuelta!

We Are the Knights Who Say (I) Ni(ver Want to Win the Tour Again)!; Tinkov Makes Amends; and, Yay, It's Euskistar!

That's *Sir* Brad, You Serf!: hearty congrats to 2012 Tour de France champ Brad Wiggins, knighted today by Queen Elizabeth and, with the newfound gallantry appropriate to his rank, all kindsa "I Heart Froomey" and "Nope, Still Don't Want the Tour Again." Froome, for his part, graciously allowed that the hatchet is indeed buried between the two, not only, he swears, because Brad can now have him beheaded. Brad, from your former rabble subjects across the pond, we doff our hats--now *don't* diss the beautiful Giro d'Italia again by claiming you really want that win either!

I'm Sorry, You Lazy Hack!: in other olive-branch news, enjoyably unstable cycling oligarch Oleg Tinkov has sorta apologized to Alberto Contador for last Tour's blizzard of humiliation tweets, offering that he was only doing it to "provoke" the demoralized boy into some positive action. Next up--Tinkov throws our hero's !@# into 10 years of hard labor in some miserable rock-breaking hellhole to "encourage" him. Awww, that's sweet he cares so much!

That's *Eye*-gor!: last but not least, much as I've admittedly hated team Movistar's fat-cat thieving Euskaltel-poaching guts for contributing to the downfall of the squad by persisting snatching some of their best talent, now that our beloved Carrots are indeed no more (except for the new development team--in five years, watch out suckers!), I gotta concede I'm pretty stoked that frighteningly jobless erstwhile Igor Anton has been signed by the team, along with the previously-snagged alums climber-duo Ion and Gorka Izaguirre and sprinter Juanjo Lobato. All right, the hell with Valverde, you *seen* these boys in the high passes?--change those blue jerseys to orange already, and make Piti fight for it next year!

Like That Disgusting Goo-Covered Thing That Pops Outta That Guy's Guts and Skitters Away In "Alien," But More Painful

Quotes That Rip My Guts Out: yep, even as EX-EUSKALTEL-EUSKADI rider Benat Intxausti, who those vulturous poaching carcass-pickers over at Movistar grabbed a coupla seasons back, takes a mountain stage at the Tour-of-Who-Gives-A-Crap-Except-It's-Dear-Euskaltel's-Last-WorldTour-Race-Ever!, our actual beloved Euskies continue to honor their carrot jerseys with characteristically hard work, but for my money, it's the quotes o' resigned doom coming outta the mouths of our boys in orange that's breaking my heart the most. The latest from team captain Samuel Sanchez, tentatively thought though clearly now not going to joining besieged and recently key-domestiqueless Alberto Contador at Saxo Bank: "Time goes by, and even if I do not want to end my career, I'm getting used to the idea of retirement." Arrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu (or however you write an agonized howl), arrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Well *I'm* not used to it !@#dammit, what the !@#$ is with you cheapskate soulless assface sport directeurs, hire Samu' already, *look* at some of the goons you've got on your squads who could be added to or replaced! Oh, bad enough young sprinter (a sprinter! Euskaltel's got a sprinter!) Lobato has no home, erratic yet worthy Igor Anton is finally conceding “As things stand I’ve got nothing, or at least nothing concrete,” and half the team are tweeting rueful farewell pics of their final team kits, now this--arrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

On the Catwalk/On the Catwalk, Yeah/I Shake My Little Tush On the Catwalk: meantime, to no-one's shock, startlingly incompetent doper/Byblos runway man-candy Danilo "Low T" DiLuca's is finally facing a largely-too-late-but-at-least-symbolic life-time ban from his own deeply annoyed cycling fed. I gotta say, I almost get why guys like Jan Ullrich and poor ol' Strawberry Shortcake here are so aggravated at the utter arbitrariness at who still gets singled out for scorn--or all-embracing, prodigal-son forgiveness--in the peloton. Ah well, Danilo, at least your buds can keep you in style with free clothes!

If You Experience Performance-Enhancing Symptoms, Call Your Team Doctor Immediately to Get More: and, many thanks to USADA for their warning today about a popular weight-loss and "focus-enhancing" nutritional supplement that apparently acts on the body like meth, because apparently, that lovely opioidtramadol crap the new, clean generation's currently taking as a pain-reliever (pain-relief being, well, useful to athletes who painfully *ride* six freakin' hours a day)isn't even banned yet. It's under review though! Whew, I'm *so* glad things have completely changed...hey, if you guys aren't gonna use your resources to combat this, maybe you could use the spare energy (and dough) to help Samu get a new contract instead?

It's Yer 2012 Vuelta a Espana in Preview!

Yes folks, the countdown's nearly complete, Contador's got his happy legs on, and it's time for the amazing Vuelta a Espana! Here, yer official preview:

The Course: in a word--"oh, !@#$!" Blistering heat, seven--seven!--serious mountaintop finishes, mother-freakin'-steeps at every turn, one brief opening team time trial, squat for sprints, and even the lone individual time trial's an up-and-down thrilla of a leg-ripper. Sure, it's sadistic--but really, you'd rather watch 3 weeks' worth of snoozemeister flats? Get thee to the Tour then, you heathen!

The GC Players: Alberto Contador. Joaquim Rodriguez. Igor Anton. Chris Froome. And can *someone* give Juanjo Cobo *some* credit as a contender--he's the defending Vuelta champion, for heck's sake!

The Wildcards: well, there's some speculation that some o' the Belgians are in it to win. Hey, if the entire Spanish peloton simultaneously gets blasted with some disgusting spewing 3-week swine flu, who am I to say it's not possible?

The Breakaway Artists: you'll "break away" when Alberto Contador *says* you can, you peon, but with a host of Spanish continental squads, Euskaltel's loyal lieutenants in front of the hometown fans, and Damiano Cunego of all people in the mix, everything short of the high mountains is up for grabs. Sure, that's only like 2 stages--but that'll make the competition all the livelier, I say!

The Sprinters: honestly, who cares? But the likeable Ben Swift and the desperate RadioSkank's Daniele Bennati are riding, so good luck to you both!

The Fans: it's all about the fabulous Euskaltel-Euskadi's outrageously enthusiastic roadside army, baby--so break out yer orange-and-black, grab your spot on the sun-parched mountains, and get ready to scream your head off!

Yer Deep Thoughts On The Vuelta a Espana

1. IGOOOOOOOOR! IGOOOOOOOOOOOOR! IGOOOOOOOOOOOOR!

Igor Anton Wins Vuelta Stage 19 - from Universal Sports -

Yep, that's about it. Oh, wait: EUSKALTEEEEEEEEEEEL! EUSKALTEEEEEEEEEEEEL! EUSKALTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!

2. Chris Froome: not bad for a domestique.

3. Okay, I'm sure he earned it the hard way (hell, even the easy way is the hard way)--but don't tell me your eyebrow didn't raise juuuuuuuuuuuust a bit at the top podium in Madrid! Still, I'll believe 'til my little heart gets ripped out and stomped into a mazillion gazillion tiny pieces *again*: Venga Cobo!

4. Man, Tom Boonen is *cursed*. Come back, Tommeke, come back!

5. Looking back at my "welcome to the 2011 Vuelta" post, I look like a complete dumb!@#. Yes, I'm only copping to *that* post. Yeah, like you predicted it any better--stuff it!

6. Tyler Farrar may be the only sprinter in the cycling's entire history to admit he !@#$ed up a sprint and caused a crash. Pure class!

7. Wiggo's got *some* guts, boy.

8. Word to organizers: next time you stick a roundabout at the end of a sprint, put a guy with a freakin' flag there. But I bet JJ Haedo doesn't think so!

9. Liquigas, even *you* can't bag all three of 'em in one year. Pick one Grand Tour, and focus on it, from soigneurs on up. Forza Ivan--next year!

10. RadioSkank just *sucked*. Oh well, Klodi, maybe Johan'll let you take a couple guys from the development squad for you to domestique--um, to be your domestiques next Vuelta!

11. Moncoutie, Moncoutie, Oh-So-Soft-and-Cuddle-y: geez, these points-chasers are the accountants of the peloton. Not glam, but 4 KOMs ain't bad!

12. Contador is gonna beat the crap out of all these guys next year. Except Igor. Who's gonna take it, until Mikel Nieve does the year after. Shut up!

13. The Basques: Bitchinest. Fans. Ever. Epic--just try to give Igor a little room to move next time!

It's the 2011 Vuelta a Espana, Baby!

Yes, cycling fans, the obscene circus that is the Tour de France is past, the lucrative post-Tour crits are history, UCI's Pat "Dick" McQuaid, having abandoned anti-doping efforts for the year, is blissfully in heavily-hallucinating rainbows-and-unicorns territory declaring the sport finally clean, and it's time for the fabulous Vuelta a Espana, baby! So here's what you need to know:

The Course: 3 solid weeks of high-altitude pain, pain, pain, and more pain, as pansy French climbs like Alpe d'Huez are abandoned in favor of excruciating heat, ferocious impending misery, and some seriously daunting!@#$ in the mountains. Oh, right, and Oscar Freire gets a couple of not-really-flats to make the rest o' the sprinters whimper like the pampered simpering babies they are. Climb or go home, suckers!

The GC Contenders:
--Igor Anton. But for his craptastic bone-buckling crash-out last year, the generous Samuel Sanchez's wiry acolyte would've been standing atop on the final podium with (the worthy, but still) Vincenzo Nibali gasping for fresh air in his armpit. And that's *exactly*, with the help of his twee mountain-goat teammates and a merciful lack of time-trialing kilometers, where he's gonna be this year. Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeeel!
--Vincenzo Nibali. Let's be honest, Ivan Basso wouldn't be hedging his bets (and continuing Liquigas captaincy) calling himself and this kid "Italy's Schleck Brothers" unless he had a reason to worry, and Nibali's near-winning performance in the 2011 Giro, and 2010 defending jersey in this race, tells you why. Good luck Vincenzo--but Igor's still gonna stomp your !@#!
--Michele Scarponi. Dang, this guy is better now than when he was d--uh, a debutante. No, he won't win--he'll just grimace his way along quietly and sneak ever-up on GC--but a podium spot could be in sight. But heck, it's not like Lampre's girly-dress-up team kit is hard to miss--so keep an eye on 'im, boys!
--Joaquim Rodriguez. Katusha may blow, but they ain't stupid. He's fresh, he's canny, and he's eager to take his home Grand Tour. And thank heavens he won't have to time trial too much!
--Denis Menchov. Oh, don't even *go* there with me, honey--where the hell has he *been* this season, anyway? But good luck dear little Sastre with your stage win!

The Climbers: they're busy. Look for anyone who busts his...chainring for his captain and deserves a reward, and anyone who can't keep up with the GC in this race but gets too press-hyped to concede defeat, to grab a solo stage win here and there. This means you Euskaltel, and--aw, you know who you are, I'm not gonna make it even worse!

The Sprinters: hah! Like they're any use in *this* race. No, there are some. Let's see...there's Petacchi, and...um, there's...no, well...oh, just take my damn word for it, already!

The Missing: 1st, Thor Hushovd, who as you surely know by now wanted to ride the Vuelta to prepare to defend the prestigious World Champion stripes that in between acting as a freakin' domestique for !@#$'s sake he's been CONSPICUOUSLY PIMPING ON JONATHAN VAUGHTERS' !@#$IN' JERSEY ALL SEASON--you *suck*, Garmin! Also, all the Tour de France GC contenders. Never fear though, cycling fans--*after* you watch the far more important Vuelta coverage in full every day, you can watch Cadel, Ivan, and the Schlecks go head-to-head at the USA Pro Cycling Challenge in Colorado. Better, catch Thor at the Tour of Britain instead. C'mon Thor, show Vaughters he can shove yer wilted Tour de France mountain-win bouquets right--gosh, right in his glove compartment!

And Finally, Why This Particular Vuelta's So Bitchin': yes, at this Grand Tour there *is* a distinct lack of publicity-slut nimrods bouncing their pasty hairy beer-guts over their underwear running way too close to the riders (and cameras) for comfort, but even better, the Vuelta is takin' a nice hike through the brutal, beautiful Basque Country itself, which means thousands upon thousands of orange-army fanatics packing the roads to deafen even their Euskaltel heroes with screaming. These guys, in sum, are (aside from my dear reader(s) of course), the very bestest fans in the business. Igoooooooooooooooooooor!

Well, them's yer intro, I'll go into far more'n you ever wanted to hear as we go along. Now repeat after me--Anton rules, Nibali drools, Anton rules, Nibali drools, Anton r...! Look, here's why:

The 2011 Racejunkie Giro d'Italia Awards

Yes, dear reader(s), another terrible, beautiful Giro is behind us, and it's time to reward both the sublime and the ridiculous with the respect, admiration, and wholesale mockery they deserve. So, with thanks to the peloton for their contributions to ignominious cycling history, here goes:

Punk-!@# Move of the Giro: okay, Visconti's World Wrestling Federation slugfest then spectacular post-relegation whining campaign came close, but this one's for Alberto Contador repeatedly attacking Vincenzo Nibali in the last 500 meters of the climb up Zoncolan. Let's be clear: Contador had by far the time to spare to show some class, and didn't. !@#$, Alberto, do *you* want to beat Lance Armstrong's unbreakable record as Biggest !@#hole In the Peloton?

Spectator o' the Race: sure, there's always gonna be guys in almost unlawfully tiny Speedos content to show off their flapping love handles to 2 million people innocently watching at home, but for my money, this goes to the guy in lederhosen dressed in horns running alongside Contador and bearing aloft a giant syringe. Still not a true believer, are you? Shame on you, naughty tifoso!

Always Something There to Remind Me Prize: Team Radioskank hotel hangout invaded by the narcs, followed by Johan Bruyneel's hysterical denials that he did not either bail out of the country like a wussbag with barely a change of underwear to avoid the heat. Doesn't *anyone* believe they're clean?! Oh, wait...

Krusty, Crostini, Crostis, Whatever Award: all right, the race organizers couldn't help the dirt Crostis descent getting cut--that was the teams' fault--but how lame to change the course *again* just to avoid a violent mob protest over the decision. How'd *you* feel if you camped out with no working toilet on top of a freezing mountain for 2 days only to be told to 'enjoy' the nonexistent remaining roadside spots elsewhere instead--show them some respect, and as for yourself, organizers, show some stones!

Sweet Spot o' the Giro: oh, my ever-underfunded, ever-underestimated Euskaltel. First you accomplish your entire race goal of one stage win with Igor Anton, then loyal superdomestique Mikel Nieve caps it off with a phenomenal, grinding win on the queen stage. Woo-hoo Euskaltel--you can just change that maglia rosa to orange-and-black from now on, suckers!

Wah-Wah of the Race (Self-Serving): remember in stage 3, when Alessandro Petacchi moved over like a foot during the sprint and--aiiiggghhhh! !@#$in' Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium! Aiiiggggghhhh!

Wah-Wah of the Race (Just Plain Irritating): The road has potholes. The Giro has mountains. I won a stage. Other people, except me, don't clean up til after they're caught doping. Yap, yap, yap. Dang, don't St. David Millar *ever* quit complaining? Nope, not as long as there's a camera around, I guess...

Stick a Fork In 'Em, They're Done Award of 2011: first, it seemed outright stupid, then, it seemed merely reckless, and finally, it seemed like the wiliest !@#damn move in Giro history. Alberto Contador on Mt. Etna. It's only stage 9, and game over, baby--better luck next year, Nibali!

Braveheart Award: no matter how many times Contador attacked, Michele Scarponi, to his everlasting credit, immediately tried to match him. Sure, he cracked like Humpty-Dumpty every time within two pedal strokes, but doesn't such dogged insanity *deserve* our respect?

Things That Make You Go Hmmmm Prize: okay, Contador every day, but in particular, Contador on the individual time trial to Nevegal. Um, don't you think you'd look just a *little* more innocent over the clenbuterol-huffing cow thing if you didn't beat the other best climbers in the world by half an hour? You made yer point, now cool yer jets, dingbat!

Is That Crickets Chirping? Award: yep, the sound of Denis Menchov this Giro--and yes, I saw his final GC placing--was the sound of a whole lotta nothin'. Geez, leak a UCI hit list putting you at a 9 outta 10 for doping suspicion, and look how totally coincidentally it affects a guy! Don't worry Denis, you've still got the Vuelta this year--at least til Igor Anton kicks your !@#!

Desperately Seeking Dignity Prize o' 2011: dear, reformed Danilo DiLuca. You've won the Giro, you've gotten busted, you 'fess up to a priest and a roomful o' schoolkids, the next thing you know, you're down to a 5-meter attack on the penultimate stage. But darn it, you're gonna have your own team someday and mentor younger riders, you are! Might try to regain your street cred with an undoped victory at *somethin'* though, first--maybe riding out to pick up a pizza for the Katusha boys?

Finally, the Publicity Whore of 2011 Award: just when you thought he'd finally retired, just when you thought we were finally rid of 'im til he becomes governor of Texas and King of All the Galaxy, he steals the spotlight off our beautiful Giro d'Italia once again: Lance Armstrong's collapsing house o' cards sucks up 90% of the press attention in May. Gaaaaaaahhhhh!

So, them's mine for this year--on to 2012, and Scarponi, your turn will come!

It's Your Week 3 Contest Winner(s); and, (Temporary) Congrats to Alberto!

Yep, as Alberto Contador holds onto the final maglia rosa for the moment til UCI beats him down and forcibly removes it as soon as the CAS verdict comes out, and Michele Scarponi waits patiently for his chance to verbally abuse Contador in the press in the finest tradition of Italian-peloton whining, it's time to announce our Week 3 2011 Giro d'Italia Win Free Stuff Contest Winner: with the correct answer of "Are you even *watching*?", it's treasured reader Anne! Anne, check your email so I can get your mailing info for your cap and stickers, and enjoy your Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium!

And, It's Another Winner!: well, I'm out of caps for this year, but as a special bonus prize to the only reader to pick Euskaltel climbing god we love Igor Anton for the podium (shut up! I picked him right after his colossal stage win! Aren't you *relieved* he doesn't recover like a freak?), it's a passel of stickers and another Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium for: Karl! Karl, check your email, and name your lucky rider!

Well folks, that's the contest for this year, and thanks to all for taking part--next up, the it's the 2011 Racejunkie Giro d'Italia Awards!

Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!; and, Your Contest Update!

Igor Anton Kicks !@#!: wow, that was a *smashing* ride up Zoncolan for we love Euskaltel-Euskadi's we love Igor Anton--literally leaving a smoking wreck of a burned-out moto in his wake--an unfortunate grind for Scarponi, and a noble attempt by Vincenzo Nibali. Woo-hoo Igor! And while it's nice Contador took second and all--and I'm not trying to slag on the boy here--am I the only one who thought he was actually kind of a !@#$ for pointlessly attacking Nibali the last few hundred meters? I mean, it's not like he owed Nibali any favors, as Nibali seemed to think earlier on the climb, but still--you're already kicking him in the nuts on GC, was it *necessary* to put on the steel-toed boots at the end? In other news, no thanks to the race organizers for chopping out the last-minute substitute Cat-2 climb to avoid a planned protest by the tifosi for the (not unreasonable--why wouldn't the boys still be frightened?) decision to cut out the fearsome Crostis--what a wussy way to handle it, don't you at least have the guts to dive onto the protesters personally to crush 'em like ants like Hinault did when that unwashed commie rabble-rouser tried to interrupt that Tour de France podium? Not to mention screwing up the riders' plans even worse! Anyhoo, it's another day of agony tomorrow, folks, with the 18% gradient of the Passo Fedaia sure to make some already tired legs audibly scream. Here's the route:

And here's Anton today!

We Have a Winner; And, It's Week 3 of the Contest, Baby!: and, with many thanks to our intrepid contest entrants, I've officially drawn from the Holy Once-Eroski Cycling Cap o' Destiny, and our winner, with the correct answer of either "0" or "Like they'd bust anyone?" is--James! James, kindly check your email to claim your prizes and name your insult moratorium! Everyone else--enter here to make your predictions for the Giro podium, and Win Free Stuff Part Tre!

It's the 2011 Giro d'Italia, Baby!

Tour, Schmour--it's time for the fabulous Giro d'Italia, baby, and the Corsa Rosa kicks off on Saturday! So, without further ado, here's yer Official Racejunkie Quickie Preview of the Bow Before the Giro d'Italia, Beeyotches:

The Course: 21 stages o' leg-rippin' misery, starting with a flat, 19k team time trial, tossin' in a couple of flat stages before Cav starts crying, then baby, it's 'most all uphill from there. In theory: 7 sprints, 4 rollers, 6 high mountains with 6 summit finishes, and one mountain time trial. In reality: if you can't climb, you're !@#$ed. And if you *can* climb, honey, by the end of the thing, you'll damn well wish you hadn't. Forza, baby--you guys are gonna need it!

The GC Contenders: Alberto "Last Race of 2011" Contador; 2010 Vuelta champ/Basso substitute Vincenzo Nibali; Denis "Ride for Sastre Dammit!" Menchov; dear little Sastre (shut up!); Euskaltel's almost-2010-Vuelta winner Igor Anton; Scarponi. Funny how *he's* the only Italian not implicated in a doping investigation, right?

The Sprinters: Like, who cares? It's the *Giro*, for !@#$'s sake! Okay, Cav's in there, and so's Petacchi. The rest--I'll post 'em when I got 'em!

The Missing: GC contenders Basso, Cadel, big'n'baby Schleck, Samuel Sanchez (aiming for the Tour, fearing the mountains in the Giro except for Samu of course); fast-men Daniele Bennati (injury) and Tom Boonen (ugh, Tour); stage-hunter Pippo "Suave" Pozzato (inexplicable snit by wankers at Katusha); and, including Cunego and ex-world champ Ballan, pretty much everyone who's ever, ever, ridden for Lampre (Mantova doping inquisition). Dang, the way this is shaping up, you folks oughta start translating all those Italian signs into Spanish, eh? Oh, the humanity!

Stages to Watch: to me, the Giro is all about the mountains, so watch the strong barely survive and the weak give up the GC ghost on the trio of rides up the Dolomites in stages 13-15, including, apparently, a hard-core BMX ride and a relaxing death-drop off the Crostis on which the seemingly litigation-wary race organizers are thoughtfully pitching some safety nets. Boy, does that make *me* feel better--the riders, maybe not so much!

And Last But Not Least: finally, as a thank you to both my faithful readers for realizing how supremely more bitchin' the Giro is than the Tour, we'll be running the annual Racejunkie Win Free Stuff contest every week during the Giro this year--thrills for all, and cool free stuff for the victors!

Aaaaaiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh! The Vuelta's Over

You *Suck*, Fate!: okay, I don't know who's in charge of this entire earthly show, or what the fabulous Euskaltel-Euskadi--and Igor Anton in particular--could possibly've done to offend the powers-that-be in the universe, but WHY must Vuelta race leader and eventual-winner-dammit Anton have hit the deck ripped off 3/4 of his skin til he looked like some gross science experiment busted his elbow and crashed out of the freakin' race on the very cusp of winning the whole show--what'd *he* ever do to anybody? Or, rather than being a giant cosmic catastrophe along the lines of the one-shot die-off of the dinosaurs, and the eternal forces of our world specifically having it in for one harmless bike racer in one harmless bike race over all the other things on the planet that might merit attention, I suppose it could've just been, y'know, a pothole. In which case, I don't know what the deal is with road-maintenance liability in Spain, but *some* jackass in charge of those whatever-the-hell-those-giant-roll-y-things-like-Zambonis-that-you-use-on-the-roads-are-called oughta go down in flames for it. Igor, of course, showed total class, issuing a statement on how wonderful his Vuelta was up to the very last moment and how he "lived a dream" and what a colossal joy and satisfaction it was to perform so well throughout, and, in a similar vein, both Joaquin Rodriguez and Nibali tempered the excitement of their respective victories with highly sporting wishes that it hadn't come about for them that way. Heck, even Rodriguez got stung smack in the eye by a wasp during the stage. No matter who or what is responsible for this craptastic crush-o'-my-soul--aaaaiiiiggghhhhhhhhh! Anyway, here's the miserable footage:Aw, *rats*!

The Next Step: first, if *I* were Ivan Basso, I'd be lookin' over my shoulder just about now and wondering if Nibali's planning a colossal Lance-on-Contadorian bushwhack a year or two down the line for total Liquigas leadership, but then, I'm just paranoid. Which Contador should've been, and look what happened to *that* poor bastid when he was all trusting! Second, though, even though it's likely between Rodriguez and Nibali at this point, in keeping with my grand tradition of losing underdog picks, I'm gonna have to root for Xacobeo's Ezequiel Mosquera or at least Cervelo's Xavier Tondo (in honor of dear little Sastre of course) from now on. How do you yell "allez allez" in Spanish again?

Another Plea to Universal Sports: hey--again--would you shmoes *please* stop posting the massive race news/stage result in ginormous type *right* on the login page for the on-demand video replay? Now instead of enjoying the stage with a wholly tranquillo sense of pleasant anticipation waiting for the favorites to battle it out on the final climb, I had to watch the freakin' thing with a gut-wrenching sense of imminent hurling waiting for Igor Anton to pulverize his body and his GC hopes on the tarmac. CUT IT OUT!

We've got Another Insult Moratorium Winner, and Enter Here to Win Free Stuff!: finally, our latest Insult Moratorium beneficiary is in, and Tusher, even though J. actually won and picked it, this one's for you: it's Mark Cavendish, baby! Who has, y'know, well, very handsome teeth. Jeez, c'mon already, first Menchov, now Cav--you guys are *killin'* me!

I'm Lookin' For Pound Notes, Loose Change, Bad Checks, Anything/Gimme Some Money!

Money(That's What I Want): Okay, I am absolutely certain that Floyd Landis of all righteous moralists filed a federal whistleblower suit--hilariously, of course, complaining that *Lance Armstrong* defrauded the Postal Service--completely unaware that he could, with no other livelihood anywhere in sight, score a cool 30% of the government's possibly enormous take for the (allegedly!) fake-sainthood hero-scam of of his former team captain. That said--and sincerely if doubtfully hoping that the man just truly had a change of heart about his own wrongdoing--can Landis do *anything* lately that doesn't make him look like a greedy bitter wanker just flat-out pissed that Lance's been treated like a god (by the US public, at least) while he's been treated like the slimy neighborhood schoolyard drug dealer handing out free samples of high-grade heroin to 12-year-olds? Me, I think Floyd could have a fighting chance of someday restoring his grossy-toileted reputation if he did something like, say, Tour de France cheat-scum Bernhard Kohl did--open a bike shop. Everybody likes a nice bike shop, right? Shut the hell up about your past, stay out of the public eye for ten or twenty years, fit the kiddies for their first Trek, secure a cute dinosaur-patterned helmet on their heads, toss in a couple of free energy-drink samples for Daddy--presto, by 2030 at the latest, redemption! Oh, if *only* dreams could come true...

Oh, Yeah, Baby--Look Who's In Red Tonight!: yep, that's Igor Anton of Euskaltel-Euskadi. Eat that, you big-budget rider-thieving ProTour bullies! Next up: Shleck and Nibali sob quietly into their muesli as Euskaltel kicks their !@# even at the hotel breakfast buffet. Yeeee-haaaaaah--all we need is Sastre to come storming back (shut up! will too! didn't you see him attack today?) and we've got hot'n'steamy Vuelta a Espana perfection!

Good News for Boonen Fans: and, in addition to filming all the soft-core shower-scenes one could ever want from a cyclist, big Belgian babe-magnet Tom Boonen looks to be getting back to his *actual* job: riding his bike (hey, no complaining!). Best of all, he's ridden 120 k on his comely if damaged knee pain-free, and expects to be back at the end of the month. Ah, well, I suppose it'll have to be pictures of some silly "bike race" from now on--but we'll always have Sea World!

Aw, Man, That's *Cold*!: finally, courtesy of valued reader Tom, the beneficiary of our Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium is--Denis Menchov! To that, I say...um, Denis looks very pretty in pink and orange. Dammit!

Remember, Week Two of our contest is on...so enter here to Win Free Stuff!

Woo-Hoo! and, Aw, Rats!

Give 'Em Hell, Euskaltel!: aw, yeah, baby, those ProTour bullies haven't yet poached everyone from Euskaltel like a pack of toothless crazed meth-mouthed drug-desperate thief-addicts, 'cause remaining team bad-!@# Igor Anton snagged the stage from a hungry (and likely podium finisher, I'm starting to be convinced) Nibali. Woo-hoo--time to dress up in Halloween colors buy a cross-Atlantic ticket pound back the vino (the wine, not the rider you pervs) and scream my head off, for there's more to come, baby! What, *still* no money in my Give Racejunkie Yer Hard-Earned Dough Out of Pity Fund? !@#$! I'll just have to do all that stuff at work, then...


Aw, Rats!: y'know, it's lucky I'm naturally fair and unbiased, as well as a good sport, 'cause otherwise I'd be wrongly accusing wholly innocent Denis Menchov of surreptitiously implanting a discreet tiny motor in his !@# which of course must be the only explanation for why Carlos came in a minute 25 back on him Tuesday. That, or quiet Carlos as usual is planning to whomp him senseless in the third week while Menchov plods along in the happy delusion he won't get unexpectedly nut-kneed on the penultimate day. Allez allez Carlos--and take that Cervelo' for dissing 'im!

What Goes Up, Must Come Down (Well, Actually the Reverse I Suppose): meantime, continued well wishes to sensitive speedster Cav's sadly heat-wrenched guts, if for no other reason that he can be confident next time he gets beaten that he really deserves to get beaten, and here's hoping for a fast return to health for fine Brit team Sky, likewise taken out by its own team-wide gackfest, 'cause a race with half the peloton clutching their roiling stomachs and crying into their pillows in agony, honey, ain't no race at all. Aw, guys, didn't anyone ever *tell* you to skip the ceviche when it's 98 degrees out? Here, let me get you some nice flat ginger ale and a little piece of white toast (no butter) instead...I'll turn on "Jersey Shore" on TV for you, too....

Medic!: finally, don't panic everyone--doe-eyed cutie Alberto Contador is okay--he fell on his *knee* during training, not his "pistolero" finger. Whew, thank heavens--a day without that pistolero gesture is like a day without being eaten alive by rabid foaming wolverines! Wait, I don't think I got that last one quite right...