Yes, tomorrow's the 46-odd k rolling race o' truth at the Giro d'Italia, where the GC contenders will find themselves either (1) still in or (2) completely screwed and forced to issue a press release about how they've really only been targeting a week 3 stage win the whole time anyway. But not to worry, Nairo and Rigoberto can probably hold themselves up pretty well against Cadel at least! So 'til the tears start flowin':
1. Am I the only cycling fan listening to these stories from (American) football and baseball about doping and painkillers and thinkin', "what a !@#$in' pack of amateurs"?
2. !@#hole quote o' the week: Olympic gold-medalist trackie and fierce proponent of women's equality in sports Jason Kenny, opining that a women's Tour de France would result in "deaths" for the ladies involved. Also, they'll start growing chest hair, refuse to cook dinner for their husbands, and their ovaries will shrivel into Raisinettes. The horror!
3. So Chris-Anker Sorensen doesn't remember a good 20k of the race today after his crash. *Please*, DSes, if you see a boy whang his head, *take him off the bike* for heck's sake--you *know* these masochists are conditioned to ride no matter how hurt they are!
4. Oh, Jan Ullrich. You were *such* a lovable mess as a rider. Please, *please* look at what happened to some of your contemporaries--avert that downward spiral, whatever it takes!
5. Sagan's win at the Tour of California was nice and all, but he ain't lookin' like no 4 million euro man just yet this season. Unless you're Oleg Tinkov, in which case that's just the pocket change you leave the waitress at the diner. Get 'im while he's still celebrating Mick Rogers' win, kid!
6. Speaking of whom, I feel just a *little* dirty being so happy to see Mick take the win at the Giro today. But not as dirty as I do when I cheer on Contador.
7. Right, Armstrong has to testify. Is there anyone who *doesn't* assume he'll continue to be a delusional self-justifying sack of crap?
8. Everyone quit bitchin' about Fernando Alonso buying a World Tour gig for his new squad. If he hires Samuel Sanchez to do anything higher'n washing riders' underwear next year, he can buy whole races for all I care--hell, that wily bastard Vinokourov (allegedly) did it, and we still love *him*!
9. *Really*, BMC--you're not even fielding *anybody* at the Tour of Norway? Kick Thor Hushovd in the nuts whydontcha--I mean, Caja freakin' Rural is riding it!
Well, onto the Ride o' Destiny tomorrow--and enter our Giro contest here to win, because the wine's amazing! The time trial:
Yay Carrots! Oh No Carrots!: yes, as brave team leader Samu' still sez he ain't lookin' for a new team yet, and the new sponsor search becomes ever more desperate, jailbait signing/Tour de France sprint top-4 (!) finisher Juan Jose Lobato bagged a bitchin' win today at Circuit de Getxo, so sponsors, give those guys some damn dough already! Downer: a downright pessimistic Igor Anton is already linked to Lampre, further decimating what's left of the squad. Upper: Samu is ready to pound the competition one more time at the Vuelta. Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel--and someone save this team !@#dammit!
Taylor!: what do you get for a smashing leadout, redeeming yer loss-battered sprinter, and having both amazing guts and tactical sense, all before you're barely outta diapers? You get karma, baby--and here's Taylor Phinney's move for the Tour o' Poland stage win barely a second ahead of the pack! Get Thor another stage and you can have yourself a lolly...
Thor!: sure, he didn't make the BMC Tour squad--and a hell of a lotta good *that* did, by the way--and sure, he maybe only got his mojo back like a week ago when he grabbed the Norwegian championship, but big lug Thor Hushovd ain't finished yet--with, as noted, a great lead-out by Taylor at the Tour of Poland stage 3, he finally brought home the goods. Worlds, Thor--you oughta go for the Worlds--hell, it's not like you're Cav, you can climb!
Vincenzo!: meantime, the squadra azzurra for the Worlds is shaping up, with ct/former world champ we love Paolo Bettini deriding flashy tatted Ken-doll Pippo Pozzato as all talk/no action, Il Piccolo Principe Cunego as nowheresville, and Ivan Basso as--hey, at least Basso pulled off a Giro fairly recently! He will, though, put the full force of his flyweight behind Nibali, who, though a post-Giro publicity-tour pudgester, Paolo is confident'll be on sharp form in just a few days' training. Forza Nibali--and Pippo, maybe "only God can judge you," but Bettini's tryin', isn't he!
Jan Defends Armstrong: last but not least, you gotta give--well, somethin'--to erstwhile ex-doper Jan Ullrich, advocating passionately for the return of ol' rival Lance Armstrong's 7 Tour de France titles because "!@#$, it's not like they can give 'em to me." Oh, so he took a fridge's-worth o' dope every evening, wah wah wah--you tell me, is *that* support of his bud not sportsmanship!?
Look, before I get a ton of crap from, well, both my faithful readers, let me reiterate--*again*--that doping is bad. Really, really bad. It was bad when early-1900s Tour riders were smoking cigarettes to "clear their lungs," it was midcentury bad when guys were popping amphetamines like tic-tacs, it was wicked bad--and deeply disgusting to boot--when boys like Tyler Hamilton and Riccardo Ricco' were whizzing black and damn near exploding their livers with botched transfusions, and it still ain't sporting today. But if you can still say with a pure heart that Jan Ullrich on a bike wasn't the most just plain fun to see on a bike since, well, that unctuous filthy mastermind Alexandre Vinokourov, honey, you are either so noble that a caffeinated energy gel is the food of the devil or you are Pat "Dick" McQuaid on an implausible-deniability post-Lance-sycophant faux-ingratiating total-bull!@#$-artist last-ditch-o'-glory-desperate-UCI-presidency-seeking-shameless-power-whoring-campaignfest. Yes, after breaking years of post-downward-spiral silence--on freakin' Lance's doping, for heck's sake--the gun-shy Jan has finally spoken out on his own. Sure, it's that same cheap level-playing-field just-business-ma'am self-congratulatory rationalization that's egregiously failed everyone else and screwed generations of riders unwilling to put their health or integrity at risk--but let's review Jan on a bike, shall we?
He was erratic. He was uncontrolled. He insisted in grinding away in some ridiculous gear on the most inappropriate terrain because he could. He was a bratwurst-snarfing self-hosing bon vivant in the offseason, padding his gut outta contention til way later in the season than he should've been. He was a killer-instinct in motion without remotely the self-discipline he needed to actually back it up. He was a screeching brakeless train on a half-!@#ed bridge just waiting for a derailment. And he was way, waaaay, waaaaay more entertaining than that damn joyless robot and his perfectly-pharmaceutically-tuned tick-tock domestiques who beat his !@# every year like clockwork.
So what's he doing now, after what must have surely been an agonizing--if hardly sympathetic--Floydian several years watching equally-drugged-up compatriots complete--hell, even evade entirely--some penny-ante wrist-slap ban and return to loving accolades lucrative careers and a completely whitewashed place in history while he almost alone freakishly bore the blame for an entire generation's destruction of his sport? He's teaching little kids cycling, without a single carnival-quack Millaresque self-serving camera-slut wah-wah that's so bizarrely succeeded in rehabbing other guys just as stupid to get caught to save himself. Mr. Ullrich, you were a very bad boy indeed, and there's no justifying how you cheated the good intentions and honest regimens of--hell, certainly *somebody*. And yep, having opened the door on the obvious years after the party's broke up and gone home, it's probably better--and clearly more comfortable--for everyone, except of course the still-wildly-adored-but-more-promptly-shameful dopers that still make a handsome living off of DSing the clean new stars, if you just chill back into obscurity after this. But having so loved it back then, it'd be even more hypocritical to rewrite our own complicit history now. !@#$, Jan, you were fun to watch!
Holy moly, is this a dirty dirty parade of crooks in this clip: Enjoy--even if you won't admit it!
Okay, I've had it: Lance Armstrong, instead of shutting the !@#$ up like he's repeatedly promised and failed to do, has gone before yet another unquestioningly adoring audience deeply (and certainly justly) grateful for his fine charity work, and used it to proclaim he's always gonna be the winner of 7 Tour de France's anyway. I call bull!@#$! Why don't you pull that righteous crap in front of an audience of every teammate, sponsor, narc, journalist, friend, fan, and competitor you've ever screwed and *then* wait for the applause? Look, I don't expect anyone to be a saint. But if you're gonna be a smug little jack!@# about it, and particularly if you're gonna benefit from the fear, silence, or even just plain discretion of others, I say if you *did* actually do it (not just "tested positive"), the hell with putting some stupid asterisk next to your name in the history books, then let's give 'em all outright to none other'n fellow dope fiend Jan Ullrich for all posterity! Why? Okay, I like 'im better. But I've even got reasons here!
First, I don't care what the hell Jan was on, he was a beast. A beautiful, powerful, fragile, unpredictable, uncontrolled force. Sure, he maybe went a little wild at the schnitzel bar on the off-season and packed on a few kilos--who gives, it beats being some joyless wheat-germ-counting automaton, right? He succeeded despite his entirely human (okay, a pretty-jacked human, but still human) weakness. Second, bitch about omerta' all you want--and as to the aspect that shuts down any discussion of systematic doping in the peloton and its grievous harms, I surely agree--but at least Jan shut the hell *up* eventually. Isn't that at least more bearable than writing some lying sack-o-crap bestseller or crying like a self-serving baby for years after you're busted or making up some ridiculous excuse how you got like 80 gallons o'blood sucked outta you but not a single tiny drop ever got put back in? Please--give me silence!
Third, he's clearly been humbled, if still not forthright. No, he hasn't outed anyone who helped or joined him--which would surely be both helpful and cathartic for the sport. But he hasn't exactly blamed everyone else for his actions or gone on scorched-earth total-character-assassination search-and-destroy mission on anyone else who's ever criticized 'im, either. Yes, bonus points for honor among thieves! Finally, noting his kinder side--and he did do a buncha charity stuff, too, without yappin' all day about it--he'd probably be game to toss one to Joseba Beloki or Ivan Basso, too, one of whom looked pretty spectacular even among dopers before he hit that tar pit and the other who at least has won another Giro in much less spectacular fashion since his comeback. So join me in my new campaign to Give Lance's Tour Wins to Ullrich!
Say It Ain't So, Phil!: all right, I'll defend Phil Liggett over damn near anything. But as the whiskey haze wears off and the relentless pounding begins, I gotta concede defeat--Phil, you've just completely wigged out on this one. We know you love Lance. And we understand, really. Heck, I'm still in total denial over we still love Iban Mayo (oh Iban!). But this paranoid conspiracy theory !@#$ has sent you absolutely off the rails, Phil. And while I know everyone's calling for yer head, as one still besotted by the dulcet tones of your charmingly old-married-couple on-air spats with Paul Sherwen, I'm just gonna gently ask--please, please lay off the Lance commentary for now. Look--there's Jens! Let's talk about Jens! Jens couldn't screw anything up, right? We love Jens! Isn't that a nice bike he's riding today? See Phil, forget the naysayers, there's always gonna be a good place for you after all...
Lance Speaks: well, I guess Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton can hit up McDonald's for a Happy Meal in peace from now on without Lance Armstrong screaming they're lying sacks of crap and threatening to shove them face-first into the sizzling fry basket: when it comes to any future investigations into doping, lying, and general scumbaggery, he just ain't gonna challenge 'em anymore, even if it means losing his Tours de France. As a special bonus, we won't have to listen to endless repeat loops of that robotic "I've never been proven to dope" from now on, and more, you can all go !@#$ yourselves, 'cause he doesn't care what you think. Whoa, wait a minute Lance, you mean to suggest you actually *allow* other people around you to think? Too bad for your domestiques you didn't tell 'em that 10 years ago--look what you did to the ones who actually tried it!
Ulle Right Already: in other repentant doper news, Jan Ullrich's thankfully emerging from his post Op Puerto pit o' despair, unlike some sadder counterparts in similar scandals, coming out into the world again actually enjoying his bike and conceding that, well, maybe, he "made some mistakes." Y'know, dope-slap Jan all you want--I certainly have--but I forgive 'im now for crushing my trusting innocent soul, and before I get called on the carpet for being some doper-enabler puppy-kicking devil-sympathizer, *tell* me you liars that you don't prefer his old-school one-lie, retreat-into-silence omerta (or the open screw-you defiance of a Vino) over all that crying whining self-serving bawl-for-the-cameras I'm-so-sorry-(I was busted) jailbird-for-Jeezus bull!@#$ of--uh, certain riders who were welcomed back to the peloton. Either don't do it, or do it, take yer lumps, and shut the hell up--anyway, glad your depression is behind you Jan, now let's go eat!
Rollin', Rollin', Rollin', Rawhide!: and, the smashing Giro d'Italia has finally started to turn uphill, not enough to bust apart the GC just yet but certainly enough to (1) bonk or crash most of the sprinters out of the race, despite Cav's controversial under-the-wire squeak thru the stage-6 time limit and (2) let the hardworking unsung roleurs get their day in pink on the breakaways. Bravo, little worker bees--remember, it's the meek who shall inherit the earth, or at least someone else's maglia rosa when it gets stripped off 'em from a doping poz!
So Long, Farewell, Auf Weidersehn, Goo--Holy !@#$!: finally, best wishes to onetime prodigy ohn-Lee Augustyn, retiring from the pros due to ongoing injury to open a bike shop in South Africa. If you'll recall, the youngster was on a hell of a run at the 2008 Tour de France before a most impressive flyer off a steep descent and a tenacious scramble back to the uplands: Good luck John-Lee--and remember, you'll *never* be as bad a descender as the Schlecks!
But We're Nice! Really, Really Nice!: yes, in keeping with the ol' CSC tradition of dropping unarmed squad members dressed in penguin suits onto ice floes filled with starving polar bears, Bjarne Riis is still sending his boys to boot camp this year, but this time with an added bonus: they get to do charity work, too! Now, we here at racejunkie are never ones to question, much less openly besmirch, the untainted kindness, selflessness, and generosity of do-gooders. In fact, we downright admire it. Which is why I have no doubt whatsoever that Bjarne Riis' sudden departure from 20 years of training-camp rigidity has nothing whatsoever to do with, say, a gasping, heaving desperation move to make him and Alberto Contador look good totally coincidentally just as Contador, and ergo Bjarne, look like they're totally f!@#$ed. Anyway, at least someone benefits from the charity work--bummer for Bjarne if it ain't him, too!
Oh, Laaaaaa-aaaaaaaance! Laaaaaa-aaaaaance!: oh yeah, game on sucker--467 years after he officially retired, the Janster is finally about to be officially busted and, apparently, is ready to talk. So who else is ready to draw back the curtains on that brief, dark era of drug-stoked devilry, now that out of the entire peloton only (1) US Masters riders and (2) minor Canadian pros are still doping? Y'know who'd be really doing a service to the sport, is--hey, do I hear crickets chirping?
Tour Wars: meanwhile, Alberto Contador and Cadel Evans have both announced their goals for next year (if Alberto has a next year, but anyway): it's all for the Tour de France, baby, and each one's convinced the other one's goin' down. Well, they might want to run that by the Schlecks and Ivan Basso (tho' for my money Ivan's really gonna focus on the Giro), but either way, between Saxo Bank's broke-!@# lack o' backup, and BMC's astonishing potential to eat their own young in a monster clash of conflicting objectives, looks like the Tour's gonna be worth watching in 2012. Go Cade--uh, Alber--uh, Iva--oh, heck, good luck everyone, just stay the hell outta Samu's way on the uphills!
It's the 1st Annual Mario Cipollini Gratuitous T&A Award!: y'know, when I post, as a public service, a pic of Pippo Pozzato holding a saddle over his works, or, say, a soft-core Tom Boonen video, I am sometimes asked, in the noble interests of equality, "racejunkie, why don't you post a photo of Ivan Basso's hot sister?" Well, never let it be said I don't love you all, because as if women's cycling weren't already degraded enough this year, I hereby bring you this very informative wheel pic from 2009 Italian national road race champ/2011 Tour o' Qatar speedster Monia Baccaille: Mario "the Chest", keep your eyes open, you've got competition!
'Cause This Sure As Hell Wouldn't've Happened to Armstrong: so let me get this straight: Contador--yes, even our brilliant wee Contador--needs some more support in the mountains next season, Saxo boss Bjarne Riis has known for a *year* he's gonna need some more support in the mountains, the !@#damn 2011 Vuelta winner, Denis Menchov (hint: both these guys are decent climbers), and their support riders are all out of a job with Geox's implosion and willing to ride without saddles next year to get a new gig, and one of the winningest riders and winningest team bosses of all cycling history can't scrounge up enough dough between 'em to buy *any* of these guys for next year? What the hell is *wrong* with this sport? And no offense, Alberto--because your tactical sense has certainly grown all up of late, and no-one can blame you for bailing for *anywhere* much less Bjarne and a really very fine stable of talent after the last couple seasons you've had--but this domestique debacle would *never* have happened to Lance. Of course, Lance is the kind of guy who (allegedly!) corners ex-minions outside of bar-room bathrooms like high-school-bitch on dork at Homecoming, so I imagine one might reasonably stick with him for life or else--but dang, you can't even sell off the diamond-encrusted fuzzy dice from yer sportscar to raise a few euros for one of yer ol' pals to have yer back? Hey, Samuel Sanchez sez he'd like to work with you--sure, they got no money either, but maybe you could still ditch Bjarne for Euskaltel!
News From the Department of Total Pointlessness: and, say what you want about Jan Ullrich--'cause you can sure as hell say it about everyone else he rode against, including a few guys who've still got starring roles in the peloton--but to me, at least the guy kept to his twisted code o' silence and didn't fake a bunch of bull!@#$ crocodile tears in saccharine crap remorse for publicity points, and since he's spent the last five years in a tailspin and only just emerged back on the charity circuit, I'm inclined to say it is completely useless at this point for the selective hypocrites at UCI to continue to try to prosecute his !@#. Their reasoning? Apparently, they'll look even more randomly vindictive--or enabling, depending on the rider--than they already do, if they don't. Now *that's* the way to clean up the sport, Pat "Dick" McQuaid--anyone else you wanna yank outta retirement to make an example of? Didn't think so!
Gee, We Oughta Just Start a New Cable Channel For This !@#$: speaking of which, as technological mastermind Floyd Landis goes on trial in absentia in France for computer hacking--for which, if I interpret L'Equipe correctly, the penalty is a year's diet of Wonder Bread, Cheez Wiz, and rotgut foreign sparkling wine--I see associated drug-weasel Joe Papp has been sentenced as well, and I gotta say, if this trend continues, certain riders are likely to openly stick their IV bags right on their handleb--um, repent unprovoked and voluntarily ban themselves 'til their careers would've been over already anyway. The proof--there's been nary a doping poz this season, except for a freak group of renegade Canadians, so it's obvious these hard-line tactics are working. Congrats to all--now, pay no attention while I suddenly start having play dates this winter with Ferrari!
Back In My Happy Place: finally, as I offer my fondest wishes for future employment to the thanklessly ditched loyal-Lanceista Ekimov outta the Johan Bruyneel ranks, compliments to talented youngster Brice Feillu for finding a home after the LeopardSkank merger debacle, which means that between them, Geox, and HTC's collapse, there's only a mere 6000 or so worthy pro cyclists still left without a contract next season. Y'know, far be it from me to suggest that a dedicated cyclist consider crossing over to another sport or nothin'--but heck, if any of y'all are desperate enough, I hear that say the Mets could use a hand (that's *any* hand) next season!
Okay, aside from ex-cycling gadfly/newbie car racer Floyd Landis saying Alberto Contador's former coach is a "drug trafficker," Gilbert still deciding whether to screw over Boonen at Quick Step or tag-team Cadel doing it to Thor Hushovd at BMC, Horner recovering well (thank goodness) from a blood clot and Levi Leipheimer taking the Tour of Utah while new Sky signing Henao climbs like a monster, there's really not that much goin' on today, so that said, except for maybe Jens and Cav, it occurs to me lately that there's a certain "je ne sais quoi"--French for "total lack of entertainment value," of course--missing of late from the peloton. Oh, and before I get any crap, yes, although a *few* of these selections *may* have had issues with doping in the past, I'm against it. Extremely against it. So against it, in fact, that I'd rather listen to Andy Schleck wh--well, maybe not quite *that* against it, but trust me, *really* darn against it. Therefore, without further ado, Guys I Really Miss From the Peloton But Probably Shouldn't:
1. Jan Ullrich. say what you will about his strict fidelity to omerta' and the fact that he was a frustrated constant second fiddle to Lance Armstrong for the better part of a decade--and we all know why *that* was--but god love 'im, that man was a glorious mess. His power, undeniable; his performances, gorgeously erratic; his weight-piling off-season schnitzel binges, just plain lovable. At his best, as he chomped his way up a mountain in some ridiculous gear, he was simply a marvel to watch. And lest we forget, the man *did* take a Tour de France. Glad to see you back in action on the charity circuit, Jan!
2. Roberto Heras. like most climbers, Heras never yapped on much--no small part of why I tend to like them--but what you could count on, no matter what *he* was on, was his impeccable form on a climb, and drugs just can't buy that !@#$. And with no glory left in sight, the man's still riding his bike. Oh stuff it, like you don't think noone else at the time was any cleaner!
3. Alexander Vinokourov. Damn, it's barely been a month, and already the roads seem almost sane. And with Vino, you always knew to expect *some* race-course freak-show, whether it was a wholly pointless acceleration 70k from the finish line or his impish tendency to inflict sudden pain on an exhausted-but-inevitably-winning GC contender just because he could. Vino, please do get a handle on Iglinsky so he doesn't hurt anyone--but if you could imbue yer little Astana acolytes with your random torment, we'll all owe you big time!
4. Mario "the Chest" Cipollini. Look, it's no secret that I normally can't stand sprinters--their arrogance, their braggadocio, their squicky tendency to be caught making out with their own reflections in the men's-room mirror--but I gotta say, Cav excepted, the politesse of these guys lately is really getting on my nerves. But not only is Super Mario fielding a personal squad of exceedingly formidable female cyclists, you could always rely on him for, if not a sparkling quote or a brilliant finish (and he dished out plenty of those), a buck-nekkid photo of him around a bicycle. Damn, don't people think their mammas look at the internet?
5. Gilberto Simoni. Y'know, there's nothing I love more than to hear Cav go off on a teamful of guys who've just helped him take a win, Cadel snap on a posse of friendly press corps, or McEwen threaten to personally dissect anyone, on any basis, who !##$s with him. But these guys are frankly Amateur Hour next to the great two-time Giro d'Italia champ Gilberto Simoni, whose enormous capacity for vindictiveness and utter lack of self-editing led to some of the nastiest smack-talk of the last decade. Best of all, the man *can* back it up in the heights. Come back, Gibo--maybe your ol' pal Basso could use another DS to help him out over at Liquigas?
6. Erik Zabel. Don't tell me the sight of a hot-pink Telekom jersey didn't whack 14 or so years o' fear into the sprint kings! Oddly, there's rather a dearth of Zabel greatest-hits compilations on the web, though, in a disturbing harbinger of this past year's cow-carnage, I did find this interesting clip of poor Erik being clobbered by a pony. This isn't why I miss you Erik--but Phil and Paul's commentary *is* priceless!
Yes, I've left out many deserving greats, and you and they all know who they are. And no, Lance isn't one of 'em, 'cause frankly, we *still* hear too much about that !@#$. So back to the countdown to the Vuelta, and good luck Contador with your Landis response!
Posts
