And the Wheels On the Bus--Uh, Bike--Go Ronde and Ronde: It's the Tour of Flanders, Baby!

Yes, after a truly unspeakably tragic week, cycling--heavy-hearted as it is--is healing the best and humblest way it knows how, by taking on the glory, the pain, the blood, and the sheer leg-crunching suffering of the cobblestones at the revered Ronde van Vlaanderen. Pre-race controversy: no, not whether Sagan shaved his freakin' legs you prurient pervs, but some squads were apparently *not* allowed to recon certain sections of the course and, as a result, are not only spittin' fire but already preparing their post-race press-conference justification for how it's all the jerkface organizers' fault for not even allowing them to prep enough to win. Anyhoo, on tap for the gentlemen: And for the women: And even in "tiny", honey, that spells "agony"!

On form for the men: well, after what seems to be a mathematically endless series of Fabs-vs.-Tom articles and soft-porn photo-spreads, all bets are on the retiring last-stand Cancellara for a historic 4-peat vs. the tactically-blockheaded but uncontrollably powerful Peter Sagan, tho' if it comes down to the motivator of "rider most likely to be beaten senseless with a cobblestone by his rabid foaming oligarch team boss if he loses," it's clear we ain't looking at Trek-Segafredo here for the win. Me, I'm thinkin' last year's king Kristoff is just too marked as never before, I'm rooting pointlessly for we love Tom Boonen who shut up and go to hell is just holding it all back for Roubaix, not getting at all the hate for Greg Van Avermonster, and still holding onto the fond delusion that dashing if perpetually underperforming bon vivant Pippo Pozzato's got enough legs to (1) fit in a nice new trophy tat somewhere and (2) seriously stick it to those unappreciative snots at Lampre, at least with an upgrade to the podium. Yeah, yeah, Saganator's got it, forza Pippo, even tho' I hope Tommeke still kicks your !@#!

For the women: holy crap have we got powerhouse city here, with a huge percentage of the likely contenders being both uninjured and on spectacular early-season form, between reigning rainbow jersey and so far absolutely uncursed and unbeatable Lizzie Armistead, surprise (to me anyway, but I'm just yer average eejit) Gent-Wevelgem winner/Armistead teammate Chantal Blaak, and, of course, defending Ronde ruler Wiggle's Elisa Longo Borghini, and as a reminder, last year's podium roundout of Jolien D'hoore and Anna Van Der Breggen. We'll see who's still standing (or crawling) on the Paterberg--but go Lizzie, how can you not root for someone with so much talent grit and total bad-!@#ery?

And in case you forgot, here's how it played out last year for the men: and the women:


Now, off to the races, kids--may your tires never puncture, your bike not spontaneously combust, your bidon never be empty, and most of all, may Fabian Cancellara have mercy upon your doomed, desperate souls!

Now Win Flanders For Me, Sagan, Or I'll Grind You Into Dog Meat!: It's Your Ronde in Preview! #rvv

No Pressure: let's face it: our little Sagz has lost some of his joie de vivre. Whatever tactical sense he had has disappeared like a dirtbag ahead of a drug test, he's got squat in the tank when he needs it most, and the poor kid's been so down he hasn't even had the heart to pop a wheelie onto Contador's head. So you've got *one* day to get your mojo back before your desperate boss Oleg goes completely crazy-!@# on your overpaid overhyped has-been butt--but no pressure!

Oh Tommeke!: and, it goes without saying that a Flanders without Boonen and Cancellara is a party without a cake, so while I dry my maudlin tears and grab a cold one to scream my head off watching everyone else slug it out, I gotta say, I know furry bad-!@# Luca Paolini's justly working for strongman Alexander Kristoff and all, but if *I'd* just won Gent-Wevelgem in total dominating fashion, I'd be sending that guy back to the team car to get me a refreshing lemonade while the rest of squad carried me on my shoulders on a palanquin all the way to the line up at the front of the race tomorrow, which, among other issues like a complete lack of athletic ability, is why I'm a selfish !@#hole and not an incredible gracious cycling champion. So this leaves us with a wide-open race with a slew of guys who've been absolutely blossoming in the absence of Fabs and Tommeke's long shadows, like just-dented John Degenkolb, Van Avermaet, Stybar, gutsy E3 Harelbeke winner Geraint Thomas, and former shock champ Stijn Devolder, as well as, well, realistically, everybody else in the peloton from Belgium. My dark-horse fave? Niki Terpstra. My guilty-pleasure-no-chance-in-hell-but-I-still-love-to-watch-him-anyway? The all-style GQ king Pippo Pozzato. Still, forza grande Luca!

The Forecast: 48 F and sunny. Like even *that's* gonna help you poor bastards!

Ow, !@#$!: finally, your course map is here, and while it's gonna be a bangin' bucket o' excitement from start to finish for us, it is, as always, a study in total !@#$ing bone-jarring suffering for the peloton, including three trips up the Kwaremont, a spin up the Paterberg, and, of course, the fearsome pave of the Koppenberg. Me, I'm hoping someone smashes apart a potential bunch sprint by a daring far-out attack. And to remind you, like you needed it, here, your tribute to Fabs' decisive 2014 victory, as the big guy (get well soon!) brings it in:

So good luck boys--both winning the race, and just plain staying upright in one (especially your collarbones) piece--let the pain and glory begin!

It's Your 2014 Tour of Flanders Awards!

Hardman of the Race: holy !#$, are they holding Stijn Devolder's shattered carcass together with duct tape at this point? About 38 hard, *hard* crashes, the man looks like a rotting arm-dropping zombie outta the Living Dead, and still he just keeps on coming back. No, he didn't "win"--but yeah, he *won*!

Newbie o' Flanders Award: I can't believe this is Taylor Phinney's first time here. A Ronde of applause for his stellar ride with Darryl Impey!

Crash of the Race (Fear o' God Edition): half of Saxo-Tinkoff goes down all at once in a perplexing, slow-to-fix tangle. If they didn't break any bones *in* the crash, Oleg Tinkov's gonna do it for 'em!

Crash of the Race (Aw, Suck Edition): The great-hearted MTN-Qhubeka, an African squad's first broken collarbone (anyway, sure looked it) in their first ever Flanders. Get well soon kid!

Panic at the Roadside Award: OH MY GOD NIKI TERPSTRA'S DOWN! THIS IS A CATASTROPHE FOR OMEGA PHARMA QUICKSTEP! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY HAVE--oh, he's just peeing. Um, look, over there--cows grazing!

What the !@#$ Is He Doing There? Prize: really. Wiggins?

Cha-Ching! (In Reverse) Award: Peter Sagan, you rakish, *very* youngster, *you* may not be feeling the Classics pressure--but trust me, come 4-million-euro contract time, your price, and your commission-hungry agent, will be. You better start thinking about next weekend, pal!

The Player's Club Prize: Bjorn "I Only Tested Poz for Testosterone Because I Was Just This Very Minute Doing My Girlfriend" Leukemans' failed attack at 23k. Yep, this obnoxious joke is just too easy, even for me!

Insult-to-Injury Award: oh, there was a women's Ronde Van Vlaanderen all right--not that we'd know it from the guttural footnote to the breathless high-pitched coverage of the menfolk's. And Ellen Van Dijk soloed to win it. BROADCAST WOMEN'S CYCLING DAMMIT--LIKE THE SAME FREAKIN' CENTURY IT HAPPENS!

The Decline and Fall of the American Empire Prize: why the !@#$ can't we get contemporaneous non-!@#$ coverage in the US without blacked-out screens pop-up porno 2-pixel visuals and a stream that jerks like a--well, let's just leave that there? *This*, this is why this country is going to hell in a handbasket, I say!

Now *Them's* Fightin' Words Award: the BEIN Sports commentator who cheerily sent us "back to Magnus Baxter." TWICE. Right, along with "Bernard Hiny" and "Eddy Mertz", you insufferable twit!

Layoff Tommeke You Bastards!: okay, not a prize exactly, but nonetheless, a mandate. You just wait--he'll be 100% at Paris-Roubaix!

And Finally, Debbie Downer of the Race: yeah, I mean Spartacus winning it. I know, I know, he's amazing--but I didn't want the predictable to happen. And really, while that was a bit of a scare there at 2.6k to go, it was over at 13k when Cancellara took off. And the last k's damn-near track-standing--annoying!

Well, them's mine--it was a predictably twitchy start, it was unpredictably sunny, and sincere best wishes to all who were hurt. Now, it's on to the Vuelta a Pais Vasco, and next week's Hell o' the North!

You Down With O.P.P. (Other People's Pave')?: It's Yer Flanders in Preview, Baby!

Oh yeah, we're down to serious business, baby, because there's both the men's and women's Ronde van Vlaanderen are this weekend, and there's already drama by the buckets! The score:

The Gossip: Belgian cops totally coincidentally kick Peter Sagan off the Kwaremont while he's reconning the course today, link here. Nothing personal! Next up: authorities bust into every non-Belgian team and rider's hotel rooms at 3 a.m. on Sunday with battering rams, billy clubs, bullhorns, stun guns, cattle prods, smoke grenades, and those spazzy little hand-buzzers you buy at the joke shop. Oops, wrong room--nighty-night, sorry to disturb you!

The Cobbles: fans love 'em, riders fear 'em, and Tom Boonen picks 'em out from between his teeth after a leisurely lunch. You know it: Molenberg, Kwaremont, Paterberg. Why the !@#$ won't a profile pic load? A close-up view of the pain on the Kwaremont: And beyond-bangin' preview of the women's race on Velofocus. Yep, it's gonna be just as vicious out there!

The Forecast: lookin' like rain. Oh, man, I can almost *hear* the sound of hitting the stones...

The Contenders: Nairo Quintana. Alberto Contador. Chris Froome. Just kidding! Tho' Alejandro Valverde's already reconned some cobbles ahead of his Tour de France bid. Tom Boonen vs. Fabian Cancellara, both downplaying their chances but ready to rumble. Peter Sagan, under heavy sponsor pressure to giddyap with a major Monument this season. Critic's darling Sep Vanmarcke. One thing's for sure: if you give Cancellara a single bike length ahead of the pack, he's gone for good, and all you're fighting for is a podium place. Eyes open, Tommeke! For the women: geez, can we get a definitive start list? Defending champ is Marianne Vos. Elisa Longo Borghini. Podiums Emma Johansson and Ellen Van Dijk. Last year's women's roundup:

The Dark Horses: who *doesn't* love ponies? We love Sylvain Chavanel. Pippo Pozzato. Luca Paolini. Niki Terpstra and Stijn Devolder. And a host of other Belgian badasses waiting to grit it out and take advantage if the favorites over-mark. Oh, like Pippo wouldn't look just *adorbs* with that trophy!

The Absentees: Nick Nuyens, gobsmacked by flu. Ian Stannard, stuffed into a back brace. There'll be a lot more before Sunday's over though, honey!

The Fans: beer, beer, and beer. And if you can see through the gorgeous Flandrian flags smothering the sidelines, you might even see some bikes go by. Wait, *who* just ran into me when I stumbled into the course?

Well, time to place yer bets--and for you undecideds, look who got it last year!

It's Flanders, Baby!--Has Ever a Race So Beautiful Become So Snoozy?

Can we get to the point? This circuit !@#$ and skipping the Muur just sucks. Why not just let the peloton have a nice relaxing brunch the first 5 hours then start from 20k out? Anyway, it is still Flanders, so let's recap:

1. !@#$!: Tom Boonen down, stitches impending, and his Classics totally !@$#ed at 30K. Despite the fact that I was rooting for Boonen anyway after his crap season-so-far, and 80% of Boonen is still 120% of anyone else, am I the only one thinking that the Classics just ain't the Classics if Tom and Fabian can't slug it out in full form? Here, Belgium breaks its heart:

2. Notable Mechanicals: Rear wheel puncture for Fabian at 53k out. Flecha mechancial at 34k. Really, is that gonna take either one of 'em out?

3. Yep, It's Flanders All Right: walkin' on the Koppenburg.

4. The End is Near: Fabian and Sagan are marking at 34k! Argy-bargy at the foot of the Kwaremont! Roelandts ditches Hinault at 18K! Chavanel falling back!

5. Okay, You Can Turn Off the TV Now: Cancellara jumps again as Sagan hits the hurt locker at 17k! All over at 13k as Sagan and Roelandts settle for a slugfest for second.

6. Vooooos!: yep, it's Marianne Vos for the women. Damn, does she even need a bike to ride on--that woman could just win races walking and pickin' daises!

Well, that's what you missed, unless seeing Fabian Cancellara--who is brilliant, yap yap yap--pull the same one-length-and-he's-gone trick can keep you entertained for every race on the planet. Me, not so much. Bring on Roubaix, and for God's sake, some other freakin' tactic!