Aw, Crap, Chaingate *Again*? I Thought Schleck and Contador Were Through With This !#$!; And, Pony Up Already, Sagan!

The Neverending Story: yep, just when you thought you'd finally heard the last of the whining over evil Alberto Contador attacking innocent Andy Schleck when he dropped his chain in a hapless mechanical and nefariously stealing that Tour de France, the same stupid !@#$ing thing is being yapfested about agai...oh, wait, this is *Cavendish*, today, at Tirreno, wholly accidentally taking out rival Elia Viviani over what Quick Step is now saying is a repeat chain-drop problem that blew Cav's nearly inevitable win at the sprint. Whoa moly, anyone know if Cav's mechanic's okay after Mark no doubt flew at him like some rabid snarling toothy badger to chew his face off? Whoever he is, I'm sure if he's not *too* roughed up, that the problem's been analyzed and damn well fixed--or else! Here, the carnage: Feel better soon, Elia!

There's Buyer's Remorse, And There's 12 million !@#$in' Euros of Buyers' Remorse: meantime, a day after Alberto Contador thanked Oleg Tinkov for his new-signed 2016 contract by bonking at the opening Tirreno-Adriatico time trial, fellow pampered flower Peter Sagan woofed yet *again* by blowing the sprint at Tirreno today, but luckily, Oleg was so charmed by Peto's wacky post-race antics that he only *threatened* to wrap 'im up like a mummy and trebuchet him across the next sprint finish line like some creepy-!@# spandex medieval missile. Just ask Alberto, Peter--batting those eyelashes is only gonna get you so far, honey! Still, panicked Tinkov minion/cycling impresario Bjarne Riis is urging everyone not to panic over Sagan's impending Classics season just yet, which he paradoxically did by pointing out how much better than him everyone else who's in contention already is this year. Jaysus, Oleg, you're already putting Alberto under freakish pressure having him try to be the first sap to win the Giro-Tour double since the allegedly more, well, highly-provisioned era--you're really still gonna screw him by putting one pedal stroke of the Tour squad's effort behind this showoff? Oh, Sagan'll take his first win of the season soon enough, and you'll melt like buttah on hot popcorn--Alberto, you'd better start vying a little harder for Oleg's affection right about now!

Narcs That Go Bump in the Night: and, in the wake of the CIRC report, the debate rages on over UCI's threat to jack up middle-of-the-night dope testing for exhausted random riders during major races, not only leading to a deluge of hotel mini-fridges mysteriously ditched in dumpsters during Grand Tour season, but a web-clogging increase in desperate Google searches asking "who was that guy who got out of a positive by saying he was doing the nasty that time?" Me, I actually very much sympathize with some poor clean schmo whose hopes for a next-day stage win are dashed by rubber-gloved goons wrecking his much-needed sleep in search of some guilty doping assclown. Oh well, that's the unjust price of cycling purity, I guess--and lucky that at least a few 'em of 'em are already taking sedatives according to that CIRC report!

French Press: finally, congrats to the wily French Cycling Federation, using the lame excuse of 'making sure nobody was doping' to screw reigning Tour de France champ Vincenzo Nibali out of a cool half million euros in prize money 'til they're sure he, and the winners of a wunk of other 2014 French races, deserves the money. So, with retroactive testing improvements and all, you're planning on paying the poor guy when, when his senior citizen pension vests? I mean, I get messing around with the small if unimpeachale Nibali's head and bank account, if you're a total jerk and all--but really, bigger guys like Niki Terpstra? On wing span alone that guy could wring the money outta you by force!

It's Yer Tirreno-Adriatico In Review!

Yes, it's over, for this year. And there's a loooong season to come. But aside from being beautiful in its own right, it's still a hell of a bellwether, and there's valuable lessons to be learned ahead of the Classics and Grand Tours, so let's review!

1. Not to impugn Alberto Contador's hard off-season training or his impeccable purity in any way whatsoever, but comparing last season to this, if I were the narcs, I'd be pokin' that kid fuller of holes than a Sky mesh skinsuit. Jeez, Bjarne, at least stop the ostentatious braggin' for Chrissakes!

2. Speaking of whom, watching Alberto blaze up that 30% incline and bust open the race has got to be making Andy Schleck *nuts*.

3. If pure climber Nairo Quintana can keep time trialing as well as he did today, some other folks better start training a hell of a lot harder for the Giro.

4. Nice to see Cav win, eh? 'Course, we all know what he'd've done to Renshaw and Petacchi if he hadn't!

5. Adam Hansen and Ben King. *Damn!*

6. Roman Kreuziger is clearly capable of winning a Grand Tour. So what's Oleg gonna do about it?

7. Michal Kwiatkowski. *Damn*!

8. The whole fur-meister beard thing. Am I the only one worried for these boys that in that a sport where multi-day stage races can be won or lost in seconds, those things seem just a *wee* bit too un-aerodynamic?

Anyway, congrats Alberto, watch out Kittel 'cause Cavendish ain't dead yet, and Froomey, you might quite rightly be the overwhelming fave for July, but just in case, get your !@# in *gear*!

Contador Hits His Target! Breaking Schleck News! and, Women's Cycling Dissed *Again*

Shootin' At the Walls of Heartache, Bang! Bang!: well, *that's* both a relief and a throwdown: on the first major test of his legs since Oleg Tinkov threatened to break 'em last week, Alberto Contador has proven after a wholly bleak year that his elusive form is finally reemerging with a fine, if not perhaps as blazing as of old, win at Tirreno-Adriatico yesterday, and a brilliant--and frankly, classically Contadorian--attack for the ages on the slopes today that left even peerless Nairo Quintana in the dust and poor valiant maglia azzurra Michael Kwiatkowski wincing in several minutes behind. And holy crap, what's with Adam Hansen managing to even hang on to Contador's wheel for more'n ten seconds, and Ben King's brave go in the last 1.5k just as the ramps were hitting 30% and everyone else left was weaving all over the road like St. Pat's was at the critical drunken-hurling point a day early? So good job with whatever you're doing to, well, motivate Alberto, Oleg, and take *that* !@#$, Froomey--and no, your lame show-offy trainin' while painin' this week don't count! Here, yesterday's last k:

Holy Schleck!: and, as Paris-Nice increasingly becomes simply a race of body-count who-survives-upright attrition, Andy Schleck has truly thrown it down at Paris-Nice this week, threatening to--oh wait, he *still* blows. Oh Andy, getting back to your brother-n-mentor comfort-zone was supposed to change your riding for the *better* this year--it's just *too* easy at this point, I'm starting to feel sorry for you again, why don't you go home and have a nice hot toddy and a nap?!

If You're *Really* Good, You Get A Feather-Duster, Too: and, congrats to Lizzie Armitstead for winning a chilly Ronde van Drenthe this weekend, whose prizes, according to this photo, appear to include (and not to diss such fine appliances) a toaster and a vacuum cleaner. Jaysus, 1000-odd euros for a race featuring some of the world's best riders is harsh enough--but rub it in whydontcha, do you really think Tom Boonen has to go home and kick-start the ol' Hoover after a win? Here, the final few k--Lizzie, enjoy your troph--uh, apron!

Races! Prizes! Crazy-$%^ Team Leaders! It's Yer Tirreno-Adriatico in Preview! Plus, Pippo Shows the Love

Yes, it's time for the glorious Race of the Two Seas--and Contador, with Froomey out with a back injury, and defending champ Vincenzo Nibali sittin' it out, this one's on *you*!

In: Giro/Tour GC contenders Quintana, Cadel, Contador, Uran, Purito Rodriguez, Richie "Boy, Did I Just Piss Off Paris-Nice" Porte. Not In: Alejandro Valverde, who's already creepin' the hell outta everybody with a record-breaking 86 victories so far this nascent season. Thank god!

In: Fabian Cancellara vs. world speed champ Tony Martin and Brad "I Never Wanted the Tour in the First Place" Wiggins for the time trial. Unless, say, some freak comes outta nowhere to take it--Stefan Schumacher, is that you?

In: Cav's teeth and Kittel's hair face off for the sprinters. Oh, and Andre "the Gorilla" Greipel. Me, I'm bankin' on--damn, do I wanna be chomped to death, or choked from mousse fumes?

The Prize: If you're Alberto Contador, Oleg Tinkov doesn't beat you to death with his seat post. If you're anyone else, you get this *really* cool trident thing, which is even better than the Paris-Roubaix cobblestone, the Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne donkey, or the Tour de France xenon-gas inhaler-canister. Just don't tick off the guy who wins it!

Unrelated Pippo Pozzato Lovefest: finally, yes, it's completely irrelevant to this discussion, but huge points to rakish peloton stud-pup Pippo Pozzato, not only for impossibly making the already fabulous Lampre-Merida team kit even more dazzling, but especially for twitting a late-nite pic and heartfelt "grazie!" to those unsung heroes of cycling, the mechanics, who, even more more impossibly, keep the riders' bikes lookin' even prettier than Pippo is. Forza, ragazzi--hey, *you* want a job where Andy Schleck can still be bitchin' about a chain that dropped like half a decade later, punk?

It's Yer Tirreno-Adriatico-Paris-Nice-Pre-Tour-de-France-'n'-Giro Roundup!

1. Contador's just waiting. Don't get too cocky there, Froomey!

2. Nibali is just gonna crush this Giro. Ivan Basso, there's no shame in a stage win!

3. Andy Schleck is meat for the season. And I hope he gets--well, everything--back for 2014, or it'll go down as one of the most epic wastes of talent in the history of cycling.

4. Cav can bitch all he wants that Peter Sagan's "not a sprinter," but that doesn't mean Sagan won't still beat him again.

5. Speaking of Sagan, holy crap he's fun to watch. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that Sagan can climb without croaking, I'd say he rather reminds me of a certain dashing young Manxman.

6. Yes, Purito, you *do* look great. No, do *not* try the Giro/Tour double, you eejit! When you *win* your first Grand Tour, *then* you can try it. And you'll *still* be screwed. Ever hear the name "Alberto Contador"?

7. Jeeeeens! Jeeeeeeens! Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeens!

8. If you saw Andrew Talansky coming at Paris-Nice, you are a total lying sack of !@$%. Or Jonathan Vaughters.

9. Yes, that stage at Tirreno was insane. No, don't apologize for it. As Cancellara called it, what's a little "sadomaso" between friends?

10. Coolest. Trophy. In. Cycling.

11. No, this is not related. Get well soon 1995 we-love-the-Vuelta champ Laurent Jalabert!

I Love You, You Love Me, We're a Happy Fam-i--You Suck You Worthless Vermin Dirtbags!

Yay, He's Back!: Geez, just as I was about to complain that Mark Cavendish's newfound happiness at Quick Step was making him into a vomitously saccharine gushing goo-goo-eyed alien pod-person whose brain has clearly been taken over by Smurfs, he's graciously restored my faith in humanity by immediately blaming his teammates for his humiliating 5th-place loss in today's Tirreno-Adriatico. On the plus side, Mr. Sensitive did say he would "talk about my feelings" with his lead-out train tonight. Awwwww. NOW !@#$ IT UP TOMORROW AND I'LL RIP YOUR HEADS OFF YER NECKS WITH MY GIANT TEETH LIKE YER A BAT AT AN OZZY OSBOURNE CONCERT! YAAAAAAAAA! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Here, why he's pissed, and how Gossy takes the win:

You're All Worthless and Weak!: meanwhile, Marianne Vos, natch, has not only already bagged a huge mountain bike event this week, but she's just nailed her first road race of the season as well at the Drentse 8, as well as the top spot on Wheel of Fortune, Project Runway, the Newlywed Game, and the Annual Betty Crocker Cake Mix Cook-Off, which, so far as I can tell, leaves even great rivals like former world champ Giorgia Bronzini and Emma Johansson pretty much scavenging for podium crumbs in her wake. Don't worry though, she still hasn't won a national election in the Ne--oops, hello, Prime Minister!

Sissy-Boy Slap-Fight o' the Week: finally, it's clearly gettin' ugly in ex-doperland, as Floyd Landis snarls that retired Rabobank doping-denier Michael Boogerd, who previously claimed Landis was only accusing him of drug use because Boogerd mortifyingly called him an "arrogant jellyfish", is still only coughing up half-truths now that he's confessed, much less total bull!@#$ artists like Tour de France second-place Oscar Pereiro, who still won't even cop to nothin'. In response to this latest salvo, Boogerd reportedly called Landis a "stuck-up hermit crab" and a "snotty-ass sea slug," while a less eloquent Pereiro merely labeled Floyd a "m!@#$%f!@#$$." I say, forget this whiny little smack-talk--you're tough, right, why not challenge each other to a duel?

Thrills! Spills! Chills! Yes, It's Springtime in the Peloton

Te-rain in Sp--Uh, Italy--Falls Main-ly On the Pla-ain: yep, it's not only your fabulous spring racing, but it's also your Tour de France preview, baby, as Tirreno-Adriatico roars off tomorrow with big cheeses Contador Cadel Purito and Froomey staring down and psyching out their Tour rivals, Cav and Sagan plotting mutual destruction, and Cancellara--well, just hoping to get *something* out of his !@#$ experience at RadioSkank in this lifetime. Good luck there Alberto--and Froome, try not to rub the whole "suuuuuure, you don't want to defend the Tour" thing in Wiggo's face too much! Here, yer Tirreno dreamboats macho up for the cameras:

Let Them Eat Cake: and wow, despite Bernard Hinault continually slamming his country's entire current cycling generation as a pack of lazy talentless babyfied thumb-sucking wuss-weenies, the French *continue* not to blow this week, as not only did shock-victor Blel Kadri bag the Roma Maxima (before Pippo Pozzato erroneously celebrated his own win behind) out from under the Italians, but, at Paris-Nice, upstart FDJ rider/French champ Nacer Bouhanni grabbed both a wholly surprising stage win *and* the leader's jersey before a miserable bloody (but fortunately not so serious) next-day crash-out. Get well soon, Nacer--heck knows these guys need you! Tomorrow: a lumpy sumbitch puts on the hurt, honey! Meantime, I stand by my (hopeless) belief that Tom Boonen is merely stealthily *pretending* to be screwed as he desperately works to get his form back in time for the cobblestones. Yeah, keep yappin', wannabes, he'll still kick your !@# at Roubaix!

It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To: last but not least, in "Ah, JAYSUS already!" news, Sports Illustrated has scored the next desperate image-rehab victim-playing interview with Lance "I Won't Talk to the Press Anymore" Armstrong, this time, apparently, in which Lance is gonna tell all about that time those bastards Floyd and Tyler stole his sports drinks from the fridge in his private jet, and how if he'd only be granted the kind of pissant punishment reserved for laterne-rouge nobodies who are six seconds late to sign-in--which is already way, way harsher than he deserves--*and* he received a groveling knee-scrapin' apology from his lowly-nobody witch-hunt persecutors, he'd generously forgive Travis Tygart for *everything.* Gee, thanks, Lance--I'm sure those guys are just sittin' at home waiting for your benediction!