It's Your GC-Wreckin' Giro Carnage Roundup! That's "Sir" Taylor to You, Pal! And, You Broke Pozzato's Heart, Lampre You Bums! #giro

Oh, No, Purito!: well, the pile o' wounded road warriors is in from Thursday's disastrous Giro stage, and aside from basically everybody in the entire not in the first 8 riders at the base of the final climb ending up on the floor with at least a bucket of scrapes and bruises, we love dear GC hope Purito Rodriguez was knocked completely out with coupla busted ribs to match the ones he was just healing up from earlier in the season and a broken bone in his hand, Michele Scarponi was held up (and seemed quite on the fence today as to whether he should be in a snit at Cadel for not sitting up for everyone), and Purito lieutenant Angel Vicioso, who was quite scarily near-immobile on the ground for a while, seems to have gotten by far the worst of it, with a multiply-broken femur and contradictory reports in the international press as to whether, at age 37, he's just gonna flat-out retire rather'n struggle to heal and get back to top level. What a !@#$ty way to end a fine career--Katusha, surely this talented boy's gotten "DS" written all over him for the future?!

Watch Out Wiggo: yeah Bradley, you got the title, but Taylor Phinney's got the class-- check out his most elegant bow across the line after his gorgeous downhill attack at the Amgen EPO TOC this week! And is anyone *really* buying Sky's delusional crap about how Brad's gonna be a happy little domestique for Froomey at the Tour, despite their implied suggestion that he might not make the team if he ain't? Yeah, me neither!

Pippo in Exile: look, half-clothed peloton selfie-king Pippo Pozzato's been most gracious about riding that nice race in Japan, but luckily, I don't have to be: you *suck*, Lampre! Wah, wah, "results," wah--Pippo was still the highest-placed Italian at the Classics this year (ok, like 50th at Paris-Roubaix, but still!), and, in a sport that's hardly shied away from style over substance, you gotta admit that he's more fun for the tifosi & everybody else than some grim lumbering drudge, plus maybe even prettier than, like, Kittel or Basso, so why the hell didn't you let him ride his darling Giro d'Italia--what, you expect that Simoni-backstabber Cunego to bring it home? On the other hand, with the field down to about 5 guys and a bunch of lucky roleurs, maybe he will...Anyhow, Free Pippo For Giro 2015!

Enter to Win! finally, it's our Giro contest again, so because Samuel Sanchez is bitchin' and he's riding it, enter here and earn eternal glory, and free stuff!

Euskaltel! Taylor! Thor! Nibali! Ullrich! A Brief (I Swear) News Roundup

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!?

It's Yer 2012 Giro d'Italia First-Day Rest-Day Roundup!

Well class, the first few days of the Giro are behind us, there's many more yet to come, and as the boys nurse their ambitions (and bruises) and plot their upcoming bushwhacks, let's ponder some of the valuable lessons we've learned:

1. Roberto Ferrari is one selfish mother!@#$er. Even if he *has* just been smacked into making an insincere apology.

2. I'm really glad Mark Cavendish is back to verbally abusing others, but if Cav were Robbie McEwen, he'd've chewed Ferrari's leg off his body yesterday like a meth-crazed pit bull.

3. Considering he's already the Most Cursed Maglia Rosa Ever, Taylor Phinney's conducted himself most graciously. Give that boy a gold star for etiquette!

4. Jeezus, could Denmark *have* any more road furniture?

5. Vincenzo Nibali's considering whether to reject a measly 1.8 million euro offer from Liquigas in favor of a cooler 2.5 mil from Alexandre "TAKE MY OFFER OR I KILL YOU, YOU WORM!" Vinokourov or BMC. Ivan Basso, I guess this means if you want the Tour de France next year, it's yours!

6. If you're gonna run the Amgen EPO You Suck Tour o' California during my beloved Giro, at least !@#damn do it during the flat stages. Like you haven't already decimated the Giro ranks enough--what the hell is *wrong* with you freaks?

7. Wow, there really *is* someone out there who time trials worse'n the Schlecks.

8. Can we just start going uphill already for chrissakes?

9. There's no need for Michele Scarponi to panic about the GC yet. He can wait until Lampre gets slaughtered in the team time trial for that.

10. Contador sez he knows the 2011 Giro is still really his, but sportingly pegs Scarponi as *this* year's favorite at least. Backhanded compliments much, Alberto?

Right On, Taylor! Oh !@$, Taylor!

Forget this kid's Secretariat lineage or the fact he's been hyped as the Next Great American Cyclist since he first dropped his diaper-clad butt on a Big Wheel--after a blazing win in the opening time trial, jailbait phenom Taylor Phinney just cemented his fame in his own right for completely keeping his cool (outwardly, anyway) when the Gazzetta commentators started screaming their heads off 8 k from the line and Taylor materialized 38 monstrous seconds behind the rapidly disappearing peloton with a chain-twiddle that seemed to take his poor mechanics forever a subsequent car-window futz with the brakes and, by the end of a chaotic finish that sent bodies flying up the barriers, Cav'd come out of nowhere looking too surprised to even do his normal victory dance and Taylor'd slipped in, cool as a cucumber, right back to the pack and into what seemed like an impossible pink. Now *that* is one collected boy. Complimenti, Taylor--and you're clearly doing something right with 'im, BMC!

Interestingly, Taylor talks about his new pink bike that would soon cause him trouble, just prior to the stage this morning:


Tomorrow: the fateful stage three, and a touching tribute to the late Wouter Weylandt. Go swift and safe, Tyler Farrar--you did it for him at the Tour, so I've no doubt you can do it again for him here!

Me, Myself, and I

Taylor *Who*?: sure, he may be (along with shock new US Champ Ben King) the future of American cycling, but if his name's not Lance Armstrong, Lance "Why the !@#$ Should I Fake Like I Care if I'm Not Even Riding Anymore?" Armstrong's predictably uninterested: hot in the middle of discussing Taylor's contract situation (and the squad's future, which prospects might be improved with the building of an actual, y'know, team of riders) with Team RadioSkank, Lance gets a call from a future Senator subordinate and hocks Taylor Phinney like a stale day-old tobacco-juice lougie square in the middle of the phone call. Classy! Needless to say, the boy's decided to ride for BMC, which just goes to show that George Hincapie has not only managed to be a genuine star in his own right despite being inhaled by the enormous galaxy-sucking black hole that is Lance's ego, but has still maintained enough of an awareness of and interest in the world outside himself to actually mentor a stellar and deserving young talent. So now that imminent-President Lance is apparently already the point-man on US policy with North Korea, anyone else guessing who's the front-runner for the 2010 Racejunkie Wanker of the Year Awa--um, Nobel Peace Prize?

The Man of Steel is a Wussy: ah, "Jens Voigt." Have any two words ever struck such fear into a helpless breakaway, simpering stage-win wannabe, or simply any cyclist who might have the gross misfortune to get insta-burned-to-a-cinder by the blazing rocket fuel blasting from the legs of a passing Jens? Nope, which is why it's so delightful to report that this frustrating, glorious cesspool of a sporting endeavor is being graced--and destroyed--by Jens' holy presence for one more year. Every stomp on his pedals is a gift to cycling's beautiful history; every "!@#$" from his lips is a revelation. Complete, bad-!@# perfection, thy name is Jens Voigt!

The Best Hallowween Costume Ever!: yep, with any luck, disgraced Italian icon Danilo "Strawberry Shortcake" DiLuca will be showing up at your doorstep with a plastic orange pumpkin dressed up like a clean cyclist--ha! clever boy!--as the narcs get ready to decide the appeal of his latest ban ending in summer 2011. For my money, what Danilo could really use more'n even a half-melted mini-Almond Joy-- besides more half-nekkid photos of him reposing on a leopard-skin throne on Google--is a straight-out miracle. Trick or Treat--can Danilo you trade some Sweet-Tarts for an exoneration from the anti-doping authorities?

Less Than Zero: meantime, rumors continue to link Michael Rasmussen to Bjarne Riis's new whatsisface squad, with the interesting possibility that the Chicken's so desperate to get back in the ProTour that he'd be willing to work for nothing. Damn, Bjarne, if you're makin' Fabian Cancellara give you 3 million euro just to buy out the rest of his contract, you can't even spare a few bucks a day to pay Rasmussen in decent espressos?

Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnssss!: finally, let's once more reflect on the master that is Jens: Aw, Jens, just *one* more year?--what the heck is wrong with *ten*?!