Grudge Match: sure, he coulda--and shoulda--saved a little energy for, maybe, the Tour de France he's about to do in a state of total catastrophic exhaustion against 3 major (4 major, if you count on Valverde creeping everyone out again, which he will) GC contenders who'll be fresh as a daisy in July, but far be it from Oleg Tinkov for yesterday's humiliating blow-by of Astana on the Mortirolo to be enough public shaming for the previous' day's cheap-shot, 'cause Contador's needlessly attacked *again* on the day's only real climb, this time being magnanimous enough to let the breakaway have its glory (woot woot, PhilGil *again*!), but not so magnanimous as to not gack Aru *and* Landa out the back some like some toothless inbred baseball player's disgusting tobacco-chaw spit-wad. Damn, Oleg, about time to quit whining about other squads' tactics, ya think? Next payback: Tinkov lets a paper bag o' fightin-mad venomous fire ants loose in Mikel Landa's gym bag. Whoa, hope you decide to wear yesterday's sweaty bib short instead, Mikel--and that Tinkov, you use some of that dough you won't be "wasting" on Sagan to pay someone enough to keep a damn good eye on Alberto's gear the next few days!
"Dope" Is Right: over on Planet Random Target, the UCI's wisely marshalled it's anti-cheating resourecs against Ryder "!@#$, Did *I* Just Win Two Humongous Back-to-Back Mountain Stages?" Hesjedal, testing his bike for illicit motor-assists on the grounds that, y'know, he didn't drop outta the race crying when his GC went south and has kept on working really hard to win a stage. What, no razzle-dazzle, no showmanship, just a quiet day by day march up the GC? 'E's a witch! A witch I tells ya! Off with his 'ead!
Tomorrow: it's a relaxing 236k, 3-cat-1s slog to Cervinia before Saturday's spectacular, and potentially disastrous, dirt roads of the Colle delle Finestre. One puncture, and we know what *these* ill-bred clowns are gonna do--and it ain't gonna be handing a needy fellow countryman a wheel unless it's a hard whack over the head with it!
Straight Outta Chaingate: yep, in an early contender for the 2015 Racejunkie Awards Punk-!@# Move o' the Year, Astana decided to match Katusha's blistering pace and wankily attacked Alberto Contador hard just as he was grabbing a back wheel from Ivan Basso after a crap-timed flat, which, after a desperate chase which left Contador's teammates gasping in the autobus two feet up the Mortirolo, was roundly repaid when an enraged Pistolero dope-smacked every rider between him and the front of the race on the way to bypassing Aru, at which point previous stage winner/ex-Carrot Mikel Landa--or more likely his soulless boss Vinokourov--decided to say screw you to his anointed team leader and spit wee Fabio out the back as well, only to have Fabio implode even further with his own unfortunate mechanical and bike change and no damn slowdown for him either, the punk! Jaysus, can *anyone* keep track of who's bushwhacking who in this race? Still, Fabio continues to get massive points in my book because (1) he's still very young, and I distinctly remember baby savant Contador being a bit of a tactical eejit in his own day and (2) no matter how he feels about his ignominious ejection from team leadership, he refuses to say anything the least bit indiscreet about his apparently-former domestique Landa or the management. Meantime, the Twitsphere of course has been going nuts debating--in all caps at one point, so like, you *know* it's getting vicious!--the finer points of the unwritten rules of Grand Tour behavior, with the groups rather split between "this is an outrage to good manners! now bring me my tea and crumpets Jeeves before the rabble really bust down the manor doors!" and "this is a damn competition, you effete weenies, Hulk SMASH!" Big winner on the day, even if he didn't quite win on the road: former Giro !@#damn champion Ryder Hesjedal, who did let slip he was aggravated as hell at Tinkoff-Saxo for not letting him up the road to likely victory in the first place before the whole Mortirolo catastrophe even happened, but frankly, puts Richie Porte and everyone else who bailed out of a clearly unwinnable race to shame. Forza Ryder--and Alberto, I know Oleg's gonna make you grab one or else, but next time, let him off the leash for a stage win!
PS Tifosi Etiquette Reminder: *don't* dress like some weird creepy pervert alien ant in a completely incongruous superhero cape and get in the riders' lines at a crucial tactical moment--Alberto, *no-one* would've blamed you if you'd slugged that guy!
Oh yeah, baby, it's three days and counting down to the smashing Giro d'Italia, the bitchinest race (along with the Vuelta) of the year! And yes, those vultures Froome, Quintana, and Nibali *are* bagging the Giro in hopes that the ultracompetitive Contador'll blow his legs out in this one and leave him gobsmacked--or at least slightly less supernatural--for his run at the second half of the mythical Giro-Tour double, but there's still plenty of other GC action to be found this May. Who? These guys--and their jerseys so you can tell who's who from the helicopter shot, to boot!
Alberto Contador: yep, he's been training at altitude, virtually unseen for months, and his form is, consequently, rather a mystery. But Oleg Tinkov is *not* bull!@#$ting around, and he's packed Alberto's Giro squad with experienced two-time Giro-winnin' slickster Ivan Basso, the explosive if intermittently erratic Roman "Please Don't Let Him Get Popped Again" Kreuziger and Mick "Holy !@#$ Did You See This Guy Last Year?" Rogers. Only downside: he needs these guys in July, especially to make up for whatever Oleg decides to squander on Peter Sagan's green jersey plans, so they gotta leave *something* left in the tank. But with some real heavyweights out of the GC race, will that even matter? Forza Alberto--this is yours to lose, and if you want to make your irritable team boss happy, you damn well better not!
Richie Porte: y'know who's actually been taking win after win this year? Yes, it's crappy to compare 'im to a recently-healed Contador, but this guy has been bringing home the *bacon*, honey. And without having to worry about herding Froomey around--or even just dodging to stay out the way of Froome's ever-flailing limbs--if he can keep his cool and not have a disastrous crack, he's a known--and virtually proven--quantity. Downside: with all that hype, he's gonna be marked almost as much--even more--than Contador. I'm sure with the slick black team kit no-one'll notice you, Richie!
Rigoberto Uran: he's got a bangin' pink-skull clothing line, a suave nickname, some damn good legs, intimate familiarity with the Giro podium, and, on a completely irrelevant note, we love Tom Boonen this year--but Uran hasn't pulled off his Grand Tour overall win yet. On the plus side, his hairdo of late has knocked even Marcel Kittel off his perch. Lookin' good Rigo!
Fabio Aru: apparently, you can't say anything bad--or at least preemptively slanderous--about this guy or he'll get all prickly and sue. Ergo, even though he actually hasn't won a Grand Tour yet, he's my first choice for top of the podium, and I hear he only eats wholesome whole grains, lean cuts of organic untainted meat, and legitimately purchased all-natural sports drinks. Furthermore, his team kit is made of earth-friendly undyed hemp, he's nice to puppies, and he calls his DS promptly every night at 9 p.m. to wish him good night and sweet dreams and to ask if the nar--uh, to wish him good night and sweet dreams. Wait, what the !@#$ is this about? oh right, he's got a pretty impressive young palmares too. Good luck Fabio--Nibali sure made it clear he wasn't gonna save your !@# by riding this race for you! Wait, wrong Fabio!
Ryder Hesjedal: am I the only one who counts this former Giro d'Italia champ in with the big boys, and if so, why the hell? Besides Alberto, the only one with the final maglia rosa, and the iconic spiral trophy, to his credit. Oh, stuff it, he can so too either--remember this, suckers?
Well, there's the top five (yeah, I *know* what everyone's been whining about the rest of the field)--good luck to the lot of you, and stay the hell on Aru's good side!
Magic Bicycle Ride: well, if Ryder Hesjedal's incredible surge and heartbreaking pass-by of holy-crap-he's-nailed-it-Oliver Zaugg for Vuelta the win today didn't convince you that that wily fake-benevolent Canadian wasn't already bike-doping exactly as he's been accused of, nothing will, but you're still a paranoiac eejit, because that was one drained (and Giro-winning!) tank that collapsed over the finish line today. Whoa moly I hope Zaugg found some kinda hidey-hole from Oleg Tinkov back at the hotel this evening! And don't lie to me you dissemblers--you were absolutely *delighted* to see Alejandro Valverde dropped in the final kilometer today, though that rather does tend to discredit the widespread assumption that he's got a discreet little IV port permanently implanted in his !@#. Even a natural powerhouse like Alejandro can have a slightly off-day I suppose--though it was a far cry from the one-day stage-long catastrophic race-wrecking implosion we can expect from him at every Grand Tour! Meantime, *so* lovely to see Purito covering Alberto Contador's every move, clearly Samuel Sanchez is just holding back for tomorrow and Monday so you can all just stuff it, and jeez louise it was a surprise to Chris "The Walking Dead" staggering back up to and even past the GC contenders after having been dispatched to the underworld already near the start of the final climb. Dang those things are tenacious--haven't you ever seen the video for "Thriller" Alberto, the monsters *always* throw you for a loop just when you think you're safe!
Worlds o' Hurt: in other news, a dispirited Peter Sagan pulled out of the Vuelta entirely today, presumably to prepare for the Worlds in friendlier, less-vertical pastures, though his Cannondale team director sounds majorly freakin' grim about even that prospect. Word to the wise, big guy: now is *not* the time to start drowning your sorrows in a pint of ice cream! And even the great Fabian Cancellara, perhaps totally flamboozled by Tony Martin's incredible domination this year, is pulling out of the Worlds time trial to focus on the road championships. I love you Fabian, but I still hope that an increasingly happy-go-lucky--hell, he's apparently even lost his fear of the sprints--Tom Boonen takes it over you!
Eat This Bouhanni!: yes, he's been riding very well and is a lovely bike rider, but consider how far fewer'n'far between the women's opportunities for sprints are, much less wins, as they haven't even a 3-week Grand Tour to their name yet--but there's the grandissima Giorgia Bronzini, bagging her third--third!--win at the Tour d'Ardeche today. No video that I could find yet, but here's an illuminating "day in the life o' Wiggle-Honda" from yesterday--enjoy!
Well, on to tomorrow's lumpy then whoa-is-that-a-mountain-or-what stage to Lagos de Covadonga--I'm sure even the mountain goats won't *quite* be adoring that final 17.5% gradient push to the line!
Tyler's Back, Baby!: yes, it was great to see Garmin regroup at the Giro and Ramunas Navardauskas take a smashing--and surely team-cheering--win today. And it was fabulous to finally see Tyler Farrar, after so long a rough patch, look so happy and at home at the finish line again. But even better to me was that, whatever the hell is going on with Ryder Hesjedal--and whether or not he even continues another day at this point--he has, by sticking it this long, really honored the maglia rosa he fought to hard to win in the first place. Auguri Ryder, bravo Navardauskas, sei fortissimo Tyler--and damn, nice save there by Vaughters!
I Toldja, Froomey: and, it's lookin' grimmer'n even yesterday for Chris Froome's Tour de France ambitions, as Brad Wiggins fights off a suckmaster of a chest cold that, if he wants, could also form a hell of an excuse to bail outta the Giro to fire up the ol' engines for July. Dang, can't *anyone* at Sky keep these guys under control for ten minutes--or at least 'til Froome bails for a bazillion dollars somewhere else this summer?
News From The Riccardo Ricco' Utter Lack of Self-Preservation Department: look, I get it. You want to win the Tour de France, or Giro, or Vuelta, or Roubaix. And you'll do almost anything for it. But you are seriously going to allegedly risk developing a giant *tumor* just to be a freakin' last-chance domestique at Lampre?! Please guys--no matter what you're gonna win, or even warm the seats in the team bus for, it's just not that important. Now quit taking all this dangerous crap and please, please stay healthy instead!
Predict the Giro and Win!: yes, it's still Week 2 of our Giro d'Italia Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest--predict the Giro here, survive the Holy Once-Eroski Cap o' Destiny, and enjoy the prizes!
Yep, Brad's still whinging about the time trial, Nibali's still being ultra-complimentary--or cagey--towards his rivals, and it's time for our first 2013 Giro d'Italia rest day roundup! The score:
1. Being able to win a whole freakin' Grand Tour because you're basically a time trial specialist is bull!@#$. What next, the !@#$in' sprinters are gonna be on the final podium for GC and the climbers are just gonna be fighting for crappy stage wins?
2. Weather. What the hell is this, Belgium? Throw in a !@#damn tornado and suck Wiggins to the top of the Stelvio whydontcha? It's the only way he's gonna make it up to the top if Rigoberto Uran bushwhacks his own team leader anyway...
3. Michele Scarponi being this high on GC just plain creeps me out. Like Valverde, with a glaring-er team kit!
4. Angel Vicioso is one Stuey O'Gradian hard-man. Finishing a stage with three broken ribs, a broken wrist, a cracked scapula, and one nasty all-body bruising? We're not worthy, we're not worthy!
5. Come on, Sky. Yes, every worthy GC contender needs faithful domestiques who stay faithful; hell, I'm still irked by Damiano Cunego hosing over Gilberto Simoni in like 1906. But you're just setting yourself up for more Froomeian scorn here. Let Henao & Uran off the leash sometime!
6. Alexandre Vinokourov--and by extension, of course, Vincenzo Nibali--is running one smart race. And, I'm disgusted to say, I still love 'im from the core of my dirty, dirty little soul. Way to go Vino, and forza, forza Lo Squalo!
7. Don't be an ass, Wiggins. You don't "descend like a girl." You descend like a Schleck.
8. So Ryder's human. !@#$ off!
9. So Samu' is human. !@#$ off!
10. Cav's got me convinced: even without a reliably functioning lead-out train, he is just the fastest SOB on the planet. Did I mention he won our week-one contest's Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium?
Blazing Saddles: yeah, baby, the Italians are *smokin'* out there at the Giro d'Italia, as Luca Paolini makes it 2 outta 3 pink jerseys for the home team (nation, whatever), Michele Scarponi was--well, he was hosed, but anyway, they're still kickin' !@#--really, can, say, the French claim as much about their own Tour for the last quarter century? Meantime, all the squads that lost time today to Ryder Hesjedal are on a complete high-school-bathroom bitch-fest that they completely screwed themsel--er, that Ryder really blew it like a neo-pro chump-wad wasting so much energy on a stage that didn't even really get him anywhere and will surely jack his GC ambitions overally. Maybe, but Ryder sure begs to differ! Other winners on the day--Cadel, suddenly looking far more promising that we've had any reason whatsoever to suspect; the always-attentive Vincenzo Nibali; and we love Euskaltel's Samuel Sanchez, thrown yesterday not by cluelessness but an ill-timed puncture by Remaining Exhausted Time Trial Carcass No. 5 and clearly unfazed this morning. Aupa Samu', and stuff it, Orange haters! Tomorrow: a long one, and our first hilltop finish of the race! And here, the final run to today's line: Oh, Ryder, I sure do *hope* you didn't blow your legs out...
Sky Lays Down The Law: meantime, in an effort to instill harmony and avert my proposed duel between Brad Wiggins and Chris Froome (which offer I still stand behind--I'm ready to set you a date, boys!), and to avoid a truly terrifying sissy-boy harangue from Froome, Team Sky stated definitively today that it's backing Froomey for leadership at the Tour de France, which means Brad will simply refuse to ride in support of that backstabbing little bast--uh, will suddenly develop an utterly incapacitating intestinal complaint on the evening of June 28 which will tragically prevent him from starting the Grand Boucle. Get well soon, Brad--I assume you'll be feeling aaaaaaaaaall better as soon as you leave Chris with just a little less support in scenic France! In other news, Froome today set a world's record for "fastest-ever maiden scouting-climb of Mont Ventoux," which achievement he reportedly celebrated by popping a bottle of champagne, mooning Wiggo's blameless soigneur, and defacing the iconic mountainside with a Brad-themed spray-painted obscenity. Glad to see you two getting along now that all the confusion's been sorted out, kids!
Predict the Giro!: and again, nail the question, survive the Holy Once-Eroski Cap o' Destiny, and win stuff here!
Well, after a really incredible opening-day sprint from strongman Cavendish yesterday (and using other folks' lead-outs to excellent advantage), today's weirdly twisty team time trial laid out the issues for the GC contenders, as Brad Wiggins' Sky obliterated Ryder Hesjedal's surprisingly-far-behind Garmin, Nibali surely breathed a sigh of relief as Astana lost merely 14 seconds, and, of course, we love Samuel Sanchez' Euskaltel, already suffering with an exceedingly pavement-whacked Pablo Urtasun and doomed to bite this one in any case, unwittingly lost its fifth guy out the back like a toddler in a toy store and came in a bewildered, oh, I don't know, 3 years off the pace. Dammit! Class moment o' the day: Sky letting Italian Salvatore Puccio, in only his second year as a pro and in only his first Giro d'Italia, take the maglia rosa. Complimenti Salvatore e bravo Italia! Tomorrow: a lumpy little beastie that oughta give a breakaway artist with a good kick a chance to take the day. Now Sky, do that jailbait in pink you got there proud!
Wiggins Wins Again; and, while we're talkin' Wiggo--specifically, his sweetly trusting delusion that Froome won't slash his tires and put Krazy Glue between his gears in July if he doesn't keep flappin' his mouth about the Tour--I must briefly note with sincere admiration for his awesomeness that, far outstripping his knighthood, Brad has now earned the sought-after "Hypocrite of the Year Award" from a fine Aussie journalist. Hey, beats calling him a "!@#$&@!," right?
Enter the Contest!: finally, Giro fans, it's time for our annual Grand Tour Contest o' Glory Part Uno, so enter here to win, and remember, anyone prostrating themselves flat on their faces before the Euskaltel gods until the boys take their first stage win of the race (shut up! will too!) gets extra good karma points!
Yep, you know what May brings: it's the fabulous Giro d'Italia, baby! What you need to start:
Why?: It's *Italy* fer chrissakes, what more do you want? It's not an irritating circus like the Tour, the fans are more fanatical, the Dolomites'll make you cry like Thomas Voeckler just *watching* the race. Andiamo, honey!
The Course: yeah, yeah, Cav's here--but wait for the Tour de France, velocisti, this is a climber's race! Time bonuses reward consistency over blow-out body-gutting Contadorian stage attackfests for the GC contenders; mountains decide it all in the last week. Don't count *too* much on that bull!@#$ 800-kilometer time trial, Wiggo, but you're still gonna need it! Question: will Brad's season-long focus on mountains training cost him in his go-to discipline? Probably not, but I'm game to watch it happen!
The Contenders: Look, as at the 2012 Tour, we all know why Wiggo's here, so frankly, I'm too pissed to even count 'im. And y'know, I am getting exceedingly pissed that no one seems to be giving defending maglia rosa/wholly bitchin' Canadian Ryder Hesjedal the respect he deserves. "Weak 2012 field" my !@#! And if you don't fear him, dimwits, you oughta at least be a little nervous about that all-star group of Armstrong-era ex-dopers (since 2006! they swear it!) he's got for domestiques. Ex-Tour King of the Mountains (that's right, beeyotches!) we love Euskaltel-Euskadi's Samuel Sanchez: in it for a stage win, ending with a podium (shut up! bite me! will too!). My (yes, obvious, stuff it!) pick, tho' I'll still be beyond delighted if ever-generous Ryder takes it again: Sicilian shark/monster climber-descender Vincenzo Nibali to win. Let's face facts: he !@#$s it up, Vinokourov breaks his weakling peon scumbag kneecaps. Like *that's* gonna be out-motivated by a friendly post-triumph noogie from Vaughters?
Pre-Race Trouble: Cadel: there's gotta be *some* reason he ain't doing the Tour, but I wish him well all the same! Two-time champ/fading GC flower Ivan Basso: out with a humongous cyst to his taintal region, which, as some consolation, is clearly *not* doping-related, as it'd then be a "viral infection" or "stomach problems." Cav, deprived of a mid-season Petacchi lead-out. You've had plenty o' warning, Cavendish, no blaming yer teammates again if you lose this time!
Wish List: The great Stefano Garzelli to take a farewell stage win. A Colombian climber to make the GC boys screech in frustrated defeat. Danilo DiLuca not to creep us out *too* much with some goodbye-Giro Valverdian surge. Some truly unexpected gut-wrenching breakaway jailbait to grab a stage and not get busted the next day. And the tenacious Cadel to put in a good show, probably by taking a mountain win solo in snow, sleet, rain, hail, a tornado, a volcanic eruption, and a whirring plague o' grasshoppers. And me to be there next year!
Well, fellow tifosi, it's off to the races. In bocca al lupo, boys, and forza, forza Ryder and Nibali!
Tactical Skill-o'-the-Irish: well, that was one slammin' surprise at Liege-Bastogne-Liege, not that seeing Gilbert-pleasingly-strong-but-not-quite-havin'-it was a shocker after his showing so far at Liege (and yes, I was rooting for him), with Argyle Army general Ryder Hesjedal looking great ahead of his upcoming Giro defense, Joaquim Rodriguez with a brave and nearly-successful flyer towards the end, a giant panda--uh, Valverde snagging yet another podium before he heads off to whack the field at Romandie, but ultimately Ryder's Garmin teammate Dan Martin taking his first--and Ireland's second, woo-hoo!--Liege. Whether you love or hate Jonathan Vaughters' letting ex-Lance-teammate/dopers Tommy Dave and Christian ride off peacefully into the post-scandal sunset, you sure gotta give it to 'im (and not least Dan Martin himself) for tactics--brilliant! On a bonus note, perhaps buoyed by shepherd Fabian Cancellara's likely-imminent departure, Andy Schleck rode tolerably ok. And don't worry Philippe, we have faith, you'll break the curse--surely it was *some* extra motivation seeing your name written every six inches in giant letters every bit o' the race on the tarmac! Here, Dan Martin's great win:
The Cobra Lashes Out: all right, young Italian riders, you've been slapped: disgraced inept-doper former-champion-now-mild-mosquitoesque-annoyanceRiccardo Ricco, praising wilier-fellow-miscreant Michele Scarponi for his form at Liege, sez in his twit-feed that compared to the older generation of current Italian cyclists, you all just suck. Yeah, too bad *you* weren't there to animate the race and immediately throw Italy in disrepute by testing poz for the CERA oozing out yer sweatglands, you weasel! I look forward to further whining when Vincenzo Nibali whomps the Giro--hey, aren't you supposed to be too busy with your new gig at "Cheers" or something (and a noble profession it is, which is more than you deserve) to be bothering the, y'know, working cyclists?
Talkin' Turkey: meantime, he may not have had the Classics season he wanted, but tattooed dream-stud Pippo Pozzato is set to give his all in the Tour of Turkey, so let's take a moment to wish him good legs and good luck, particularly since, I've noticed, he's always the first to tweet warm congrats to his compatriots for their own triumphs. Worse comes to worst, he can always rest up apres-tour reclining by the sea and posting swoonalicious photos of himself like usual, right?
A Humble Programming Note: well, both my dear readers, I won't have access to bloggery this week, but if anything ludicrous happens I may not be able to resist weighing in with a twit or two, so while I miss all the action, kick back with a cold one, scream your heads off for dear Euskaltel, and enjoy the races!
Oops, 2012, Whatever: It's been a smashing, exciting, surprising, and periodically squick-inducing year in our beloved cycling, dear readers, and in honor of all our sweet peloton's done to entertain, thrill, and even annoy us, it's time to honor and thank the worthy (and un-)with our Official 2012 Racejunkie Awards! The prizes: glory, immortality, and, as I cannot afford the 40-foot marble statue of a three-horned six-eyed four-clawed forked-tail fire-breathing bike-riding beast-demon that you know who deserves plunked right down flat in the middle o' Texas, I swear if any of these guys even hear of their awards' existence, I'll throw in a beautiful custom-embroidered racejunkie cap to boot, so without further ado, here goes!
The Holy Crap I Think He Just Restored My Faith in Cycling Award: Ryder Hesjedal, taking the beautiful Giro d'Italia--and his country's first Grand Tour win--for noble Canada. Humble, grateful, hard-working, and most of all just obviously so very happy in his shining maglia rosa--Ryder, this one, and hopefully many more, are for you!
Aiiiiggggghhhhh! What the Hell Are You Doing? Oh My God He's Doing It! Ride of the Year: look, with his brilliant snatch of the Vuelta on the verge of stinging defeat, the now-wily veteran Alberto Contador's come a loooooong way tactically since he couldn't find his outta the team bus without a DS, but if your heart wasn't in your throat when Tom Boonen took off solo a bazillion fruitless kilometers from the line at Paris-Roubaix, you were clearly tranquilized like a runaway rhino during the race. Faaaan-tastic, Tommeke!
Comeback Kid of 2012: yes, it's a double for our Belgian studpuppy--everyone, us included, who thought your best days might be behind you were clearly permanent residents in Dumb!@# City. Congratulations--and next year, let's all !root for Thor or Philippe Gilbert to bag this one, shall we?
I Call Bull!@#$ Award: no doubt, Wiggo deserved to win his Tour de France, and a cheery salute to him and the justly-proud Brits for his great accomplishment. But *really*, what's next, o Tour de France organizers--20 straight days of flat time trialling and maybe a speed bump on the Champs Elysees? No, it's not supposed to be the fearsome Giro or Vuelta--but dang, it *is* still the Tour, you guys!
Shut Up Shut Up Shut *Up* Prize: Contador, Valverde--heck, damn near the whole Spanish peloton while we're at it--the less you self-destructive nimrods keep defending Lance Armstrong, the better. You *want* a GPS implanted in your !@# by the narcs all next season? Just keep it up, kids, keep it up!
Doping Excuse of 2012: well, Frank Schleck didn't exactly *claim* monthly lady cramps as the reason for his banned-diuretic use, and frankly there's been rather a dearth of high-profile drug pozes since as we all know only the broke-!@# Masters guys are cheating now, so for once, this 'un was a toughie. Ergo, this year, it's a group award for all o' USPostalDiscoverySkank, with their two-toned mantra of "I Never Saw It!" and "He Made Me Do It!" I mean, don't parents call bull!@#$ on their *toddlers* for this garbage?!
Scandal o' the Year: the late-December Hinault/Lemondesque Wiggo/Froome smackdown over who'll get Sky team leadership at next year's Tour de France. Close, but just kidding--it's you-know-who, and you-know-why!
Punk-!@# Move of the Year (Road): y'know, with their boundless braggadocio, smug smack-talk, and zeppelin-sized egos, sprinters are pretty annoying as it is, but there's a biiiiiiiig difference between the usual adrenaline-fueled argy-bargy at the barriers, and flying across the helpless field like a rubberband-shot spitball, and Roberto Ferrari spectacularly--and obnoxiously--crossed that line, taking the helpless Tyler Farrar and enraged Mark Cavendish right down. Your award? Apologize for real this time, or Cav gets ten minutes alone with you behind the podium!
Punk-!@# Move of the Year (Wussy Little Bureaucrat): really, Pat "Dick" and Hein at UCI? You're gonna threaten a broke-as-dirt true-fan journalist for doing his job with integrity and rightly calling your own disgusting actions and self-serving motives into question? Yeah, hide behind your lawyers' skirts you squalling babies--karma, I say!
Revenge of the Little Boy Who Called Wolf Award: congrats Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton, it's a two-fer. Sure, you lied the first ten thousand times you spoke to the press and your trusting fans--but when you finally told the truth, you sure made it count!
Crash of the Year (Dog-Wielding Dimwit): to Philippe Gilbert, stage 18, Tour de France, taken out by a humongous canine whose owners apparently thought it was a dandy idea to let it wander into the road as the peloton passed through. Road Rage o' 2012 Corollary Award: Gilbert goes screaming nutwhack at the owner-dad and his sweet little daughter. Good thing John Lelangue was there to protect the guy!
Crash of the Year (I'm Sorry, Does This Look Like a !@#damn Bistro?): to the surely-well-meaning nice elderly gent who thoughtfully set up his lunch table and chair in the route of the Tour de France. You broke we love Samuel Sanchez' hand *and* made him cry, clueless sir!
Crash of the Year (Season-Screwing): honestly, I think this rightly goes to tough-guy Fabian Cancellars for his season-crushing crash at Tour of Flanders, but because it's Festivus, I'll give poor Andy Schleck the benefit of the doubt that his 'Skank-whipped mental fragility wouldn't have hosed him anyway and give 'im this one for his pure sorry suck of a pelvis-fracturing takedown at the Dauphine. Truly, get and stay strong, Andy--you're gonna need all you got next year!
What the !@#$? Head-Scratcher o' 2012: so lemme get this straight. Vande Velde, Dave Z, Hincapie, Vaughters, and Tommy D doped like fiends for years for their own personal bank accounts and glory, got a slap on the wrist for it--and at least two of 'em built freakin' retail empires thanks to it--and everyone still loves 'em. Meantime, Johan Bruyneel, who if nothing else generously helped make 'em the ill-gotten champs that they are, ends up desperate beleaguered and snarling in a dank mossy cave like a hound-cornered rabid wolverine. Jeez, Johan, maybe you shoulda been nicer to all those "douches" you called out, it mighta gotten you a few extra brownie points!
Rider Tweet o' the Year!: sure, Bruyneel's erratic see-saw of cheer and defiance was a lock--'til righteous (and righteously righteous!) car-victim Andy Jacques-Maines weighed in: "To the chickenshit motherfucker who rammed me from behind with their Black Chevrolet Impala, FUCK OFF. THEN DIE." And that's just him getting started. Oh, and nice work by 5-Hour Energy/Kenda to dump him from your roster via the press you clods--like he said, "I'm too drugged right now to deal with this shit."!
Dirty Dirty Dirty Award o' 2012: Alexander-freakin'-Vinokourov at the Olympics. Oh yeah, baby, cue the gross 70s blue-movie soundtrack, groom that porn-stache, and break out the gold chest-hair medallions. Clean sport, schmean sport--you loved it too, so man up and wallow in it!
I Swear To God I Feel Almost Really, Really Guilty About Being Delighted About This Award: oh, Roberto. As a faithful if slightly self-loathing Heras fan, and a devoted ween who still thinks fondly of Ivan Basso's peerless legal team from 2006, I've been whining for years that that undeserving freak Denis Menchov oughta give you back your Vuelta, and what happens just on the cusp of the New Year? That's right, this one's for the Spanish court that gave it to you--never has an act of technical if not factual justice been so sweet!
Saving Grace o' 2012: in an incredible year on the road for women's cycling, matched only by incredible disregard from the powers that be, Italy comes in to save the day: yep, it looks like the Giro Donne is back on. Thank you, thank you, whoever you are!
And Finally, Redemption Song of the Season: yeah, just *keep* complaining about Greg LeMond being a bitter ol' jealous once-was--aside from the fact that the man came back from a near-fatal gunshot wound back in the day for heck's sake, he was right all along, too, and a *bunch* of folks who ought to've known better were just too greedy, starstruck, glory-wh@ring, and dismissive to listen. Greg, vindication is yours--like you ever needed it!
Well, this year's sought-after and highly prestigious awards are out, the peloton's got the night off, and the champagne's popped--apologies to anyone whose accomplishments I've missed, and let the celebratory debauchery begin!
Yes, beloved reader(s), scarily, there's still a good two weeks left for the peloton to top even the disgusting ridiculous and downright pervy excesses of this year, but, in a preemptive nod to the brilliant work the lads and ladesses have already done, it's time to honor 'em all with our 2012 Year In Review!
January: he's baaaaa-aacccck--Valverde returns from doping ban, disconcertingly expects startling improvement in time-trial; Chloe Hoskins calls Pat "Dick" McQuaid a !@#$; Andre Greipel whomps at Tour Down Under.
February: Andy Schleck sez he'll win the Tour--yep, for sure!; Franco Pellizotti brings his golden locks back to work; Contador gets "two-year"-but-actually-six-months doping ban, Lance celebrates his twerp-nemesis' downfall--enjoy it while you can, buddy!
March: Tommeke out of funk, takes Harelbeke and Gent-Wevelgem--game on, baby!; Cav demands bidon-tossing crash-causing peloton "dickhead" "get a license"; Grand Tour-hopeful carnage at Volta a Catalunya. Allez Allez guys--if you can recover in time!
April: Thor's season in toilet; Cancellara crashes out of Flanders; Boonen bags Roubaix in thrilling breakaway; Samuel Sanchez gets Tour of Basque Country; Schlecks in Suckville, panic at RadioSkank!
May: Holy crap Ryder Hesjedal wins the Giro! back-bacon futures soar; Liquigas controls the peloton to no useful effect; Roberto Ferrari takes out half the sprinters with punk-!@# move, issues snarling !@#$-you non-apology; Schleck crashes as Purito gets his wings.
June: It's the Road to the Tour, honey! Ex-Lance-domestiques Dave Z, Hincapie, Vande Velde "don't feel like" doing Olympics--hmmm, that don't seem good; Horner kisses Johan Bruyneel's butt, gains RadioSkank team leadership; Wiggo strong at Dauphine'; Alberto thanks Bjarne with long-term contract. Now just get that boy some backup!
July: What else? Roadside assclown takes out tearful Samu'; psycho strews tacks on course, Cadel on rampage; Frank Schleck out, and positive for dope!; Chris Froome--uh, Bradley Wiggins wins the Tour; holy crap Vos and Vino take the gold!
August: it's the fabulous Vuelta a Espana, baby!; Lance officially down in flames, millions of delusional fan-boys continue support; Phil Liggett flips out (shut up! bite me! we still love him anyway!).
September: Contador rips Vuelta from Purito with One Great Day; Vaughters outs Dave Z, Vande Velde, Tommy D as dopers, and that ain't the half of it; Gilbert redeems blown season with smashing World Champ win; is there *any* race Vos can't grab when she wants to?
October: Swiss court rules Floyd Landis can't call UCI's Pat McQuaid and Hein Verbruggen "terrorists" "full of !@#$" or "Muammar Gaddafi", but *can* call 'em every other foul name you can think of; scathing USADA report is out, but Lance sez his "conscience is clear"--easy when you ain't got one, I guess; Julich out at Sky as squad demands (1) lie about your doping history or (2) you're fired. And you thought omerta' was out of style!
November: ex-doper and harborer-of-dopers Vaughters is clean cycling's hero-darling, Johan Bruyneel in bunker mode; team camps send riders to special-ops boot camp and underground salt mines; smug Armstrong poses with Tour jerseys in man-cave; disgraced UCI takes the high road as chief enabler McQuaid excoriates Landis and Hamilton as "scumbags." Well, sure beats "wanker," Pat!
December: Greg LeMond saves the sport; Euskaltel, Giro Donne screwed *again*; Tour champ/press-hater Wiggo is British Sports Personality of the Year; Katusha sues for ProTour license. Like they've got any worse morals than Astana, for heck's sake?
Well, my dears, that's it for the year so far--let's hope they don't screw up any worse before New Year's!
Yes, dear reader(s), it's time for Americans to remember the poor starving Pilgrims and express our gratitude for all our blessings by gorging ourselves sick watching hours of steroid-stuffed goons knocking each other over on football fields in a belt-popped stupor and stomping the hell outta each other at midnight for a few bucks off a big-screen TV at Crapmart, and, in due honor of Thanksgiving, here's some Cycling Things I'm Thankful For This Year:
(1) Tom Boonen. I'll admit it--I feared our beloved pin-up party-boy's best days were behind 'im when he got all kinds o' chastened laid off the clubs and blow and sank into a lead-legged funk for two seasons. It's great to be wrong. The Classics King is back--thanks for an amazing 2012 Tommeke!
(2) Mauricio Soler. He survived a near-death crash at the 2011 Tour de Suisse, coming back from a coma and an inability to even speak to a remarkable recovery this year. And yes, this brilliant climber had to retire, but he's o.k. Ditto the other less-seriously injured riders from this year's grim tally in the peloton or training on the road, from Schleck to Brad to Cav. Keep safe everyone!
(3) Ryder-freakin'-Hesjedal. Who knew quiet friendly Canada would absolutely take over proud Italy for its first-ever Giro win? Oh, Canada, you kicked the Giro's !@#!
(4) Marianne Vos. 'Cross. Road. Mountain. World Champion. Olympic gold. Is there *any* race this woman can't win?
(5) Alberto Contador. Whether you think he's a doping little weasel or doe-eyed angel, this kid can sure shake up a race. Really, do you think the Tour's gonna half so boring next year?
(6) Pat "Dick" McQuaid. Why's he on my "thankful" list? Because karma's a beeyotch, baby, and this time next year we can all be thankful when this incompetent butt-kissing jackwagon's been fired, or, y'know, "resigned" from UCI. Tick-tock Pat, you wanker!
(7) Chloe Hoskins. With Nostradamus-like accuracy, and no fear of inevitable retribution whatsoever, this seer-o'-the-peloton openly called out Pat McQuaid as a "dick." Bonus points for the next rider to call 'im a "tool"!
(8) Alexandre Vinokourov. Oh yes, it makes me feel dirty. *Really* dirty. But you *cannot* have watched that Olympic road-race without jumping outta your chair screaming like a 10-year-old at a Bieber concert. Ashamed as I am, we'll miss you Vino!
And a Few I Ain't:
(1) The World Tour. !@#$ you UCI for destroying my perfect Euskaltel and crushing domestiques into dog puckeys with your stupid dream-destroying points system you !@#$%ing !@#$ers!
(2) Lance Armstrong. About the only guy in cycling who could make Floyd "Fairness Fund" Landis look good. You still got all those yellow jerseys in your basement to chill with, though!
(3) Johan Bruyneel. Just...man up already, willya? Come on pal, you can't spend the rest of your life slapping people around for blocking you off their Twitter feed...
Well, that's this year's list o' gratitude, and I'm sure we'll have even bitchiner stuff to be thankful for next year. Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good night!
Woo-hoo Ryder! Aw, Crap, Purito!: okay, I admit it--I'm so happy for the great (and pleasingly non-assholian) Ryder Hesjedal on his (and the first Canadian) win of the Giro d'Italia, but part of me thinks the whole thing blows, because to me, the Giro is fundamentally a climber's race, and for Purito to lose it on the last day in a friggin' 28 k time trial just sucks the mountains' supremacy out of the Giro. But Hesjedal rode truly spectacularly in the mountains, and even Purito could barely shake 'im when he tried yesterday on the Morirolo, then on the Stelvio, and on the all the days before. So despite my disappointment over Rodriguez, thanks to all the boys for making it a nail-biter, a bow to De Gendt for his phenomenal last-minute near-win outta nowhere, but most of all, congrats and huzzahs and ungrudging admiration to Hesjedal and our friends up North--you won it fair and square, and are damn right a "mito" for doing it!
Well, dear reader(s), except for the bloody anarchistic store-destroying arson-fest that's about to start in Milan over the Italians' failure to capture even a podium spot, that's the fabulous Giro d'Italia for this year. Next up, after I stick up some photos/footage on here in a bit: the incredibly prestigious and highly objective 2012 Giro d'Italia Racejunkie Awards!
PS Was anyone else watching Scarponi's intermediate checkpoint times and thinkin', "I call bull!@#$?" Giro gods, please forgive me!
You Got Six Hours, Rodriguez! (And Basso, And Scarponi, And...): all right, I could be eating my words by lunchtime, but let's be honest: they couldn't drop him on Pampeago, and they're all crap time trialists, so unless Ryder has a spectacular bonk today, they ain't likely to drop him for more'n enough than a stage win on the Mortirolo and Stelvio, either, and there's a maglia rosa with Hesjedal's name on it in Milan. Too bad for tension's sake they aren't closer against the clock, right? Though Purito has sucked less than usual this year. Anyway, they've still got a chance, so good luck, boys--and damn, it'll really blow if all those domestiques from Liquigas did all that work the last three weeks for nothin', Ivan you at least owe 'em a podium! Vai Ryder...and Purito...aw heck, I am *so* conflicted on this one!
The GC Heats Up and Shakes Out: what an exciting day in the saddle, as Rodriguez Scarponi Basso (finally laying down the law on his own) and Hesjedal surge and the GC finally starts--but only just starts--to take shape. Still, Basso and Scarponi have a lot of time to make up, and Purito needs even more time on Hesjedal ahead of his inevitable monster suckage in the time trial--but damn, that kid is an all-terrain threat, and who doesn't love our neighbors in the Great White North? Forza Ryder--uh, Rodriguez--uh--oh, just let the best man win! Here, Scarponi's scramble to glom back on and the gruppetto's hotly contested run to the line:
Run, Roman, Run!: of course, the big loss today goes to Astana's really very talented Roman Kreuziger, schlepping in a humiliating 11-odd minutes back, dashing his much-hyped GC hopes and drawing the distinct ire of his directeur sportif, who's already suggesting he can kiss his team leadership goodbye. Y'know, that's a bummer and all, but what I'd *really* be afraid of is pissing off famously intemperate de facto Astana head Alexandre "I Will Gut You Like a Pig, You Failure!" Vinokourov--the hell with bicycles, Roman, steal a freakin' moto or something and get the hell outta there *now*!
My Besotted Uncynical Rah-Rah Moment: check it out--Euskaltel jailbait Jon "Rockstar" Izaguirre for the stage-16 win at the Giro in, for heck's sake, his first-ever Grand Tour debut. Suck that, you big-budget ProTour big-shots--and keep your dirty thieving money-dripping mitts off Euskaltel's talent you bastards!
Good News For RadioSkank (And Goodness Knows They Need It): no, not that desperate ostentatious bull!@#$ "nothin' to see here, move on folks!" love-fest between Frank Schleck and Johan Bruyneel--after the Crappiest Collarbone Break of All Time, Fabian Cancellara's mercifully back in action at the unfortunately named Bayern Rundfahrt, which means that between, say, him and Horner, they'll be able to salvage at least two wins for the squad at the Tour de France this year. Welcome back, Fabian--and please, stay safe and upright the rest of the season!
Pur(ito) Adrenalin: yes, as the Giro heads upwards at last, it's already a battle royale amongst the week-3 GC contenders, as stealth candidate Hesjedal relinquishes the maglia rosa to Joaquim Rodriguez who was really only here to practice, Basso continues his reign of quiet competence, and even Frank Schleck managed to scare the nuts off the Italians for a stage or two before he bonked it today. Could it be everyone's favorite big brother could pull off a podium on a grand tour he'd barely prepared for, now that we've all forgotten what a fine contender he is when he isn't on little-brother nose-wiping duty? Or is Johan Bruyneel gonna yank him out before the finish line in a panic-and-regret-driven move to keep him fresh to boost Andy in July? Will anyone else remember how ludicrous it is that Scarponi is sitting in as moral compass/anointed victor for Contador? All will be answered, dear tifosi--stay tuned, and let's just get through these last coupla sprint stages til the first high passes this weekend!
RadioSkank and Quick Step Talk Smack: y'know, I'll admit it--I thought evergood Chris Horner was just joking when he suggested Levi Leipheimer was "playing possum" with his pre-race "I'm no way close to being able to win" cool-out, but when Levi got notably pissed back at him, and then big bodacious Boonen had to step in to calm things down, I can come to only one conclusion: Johan Bruyneel is a colossal wanker, and this is shaping up to be a far better Tour o' California than I'd hoped. All that, and Jens and Sagan, too? First one o' you to pose next to Boonen while dressed in a gladiator outfit (you, not Tommeke this time) gets a free racejunkie hat--and no Photoshoppin'!
Oh, And BTW Octomom is Bankrupt: in "what the !@#$ is *that* doing here?" news, Lance is on slutty (non-cycling) gossip website TMZ as he continues his "I'm a Hero! Screw You!" campaign by appearing on some new talk show. Look, you can vote on his innocence, too--wait, or is that for the "Would You Rather Do Kim or Khloe Kardashian" poll?
Eeeeeeeeeewwwwww!, Or, Give Your Soigneur A Raise, Or Else!: finally, a warning for every smugly doping cycling starlet--watch who you're hiring to jam that needle in yer !@#, 'cause if he's anything like Roger Clemens' strength coach, he just may be grabbing a swab o' your butt-DNA to prove he was injecting you with dope and insulate himself from Lancian "you lie!" attacks years from now. Uh, not to intrude into these very intimate relationships, but am I the only one who thinks a few team helpers' shut-up pay just increased another, oh, 300% just now?
Wait, wrong Fabio! 
GC contenders, enjoy!
And here, the final run to today's line: Oh, Ryder, I sure do *hope* you didn't blow your legs out... 
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