Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

Especially Ivan Basso, I Bet: sure, he just tweeted a lovely "Grande vince!" for Liquigas teammate Vincenzo Nibali on his inevitable Vuelta win tomorrow, but if *I* were Ivan Basso, and *my* younger teammate had snagged a podium spot in the Giro d'Italia I'd just won *and* then grabbed the whole damn Vuelta while *I* struggled from post-Giro fatigue at the Tour, I'd be having paranoiac Ullrichian nightmares that *my* own little Vinokourov was gonna talk sweet all winter and then whack an iron crowbar right into my kneecaps over team leadership next year. But then again, certainly there's nothing to worry about--I'm sure an up-and-coming Giro podium finisher and new Grand Tour champ whose nickname is "the Shark" doesn't have any dreams whatsoever about ever winning the Tour de France, Ivan!

Talk Dirty To Me: meanwhile, as doping prosecutions heat up from the US to Italy to Switzerland, certain guardians of peloton morality are outraged, outraged! over Floyd Landis' little self-invite to an anti-doping conference, and for my money it's not entirely clear whether they're afraid he's gonna (1) give valuable tips to the current riders (2) remind the broader public yet again about the sordid past problems the now-spotless peloton has faced, or (3) make 'em look all like the incompetent oily status-quo-protecting scumwad enablers they actually are. Floyd, however, is sticking to his assertion--which may well, to be fair, be entirely true--that he's trying to use his shameful prior behavior to educate the whippersnappers and clean up the field, which does, of course, tangentially make one wonder why this didn't happen to occur to him until after he solicited and accepted tons of hard-earned cash from his trusting blogosphere-defending fans knowing full well the entire thing was a flat-out lie. Feelin' bad enough about it to give 'em a refund? Just checkin'!

Lookin' Good, Saxo Bank!: yep, things are lookin' better every day for Bjarne Riis' about-to-be-reincarnated Saxo Bank squad, as Fabian Cancellara kicks poor Frank Schleck square in the works and contemptuously bails out of the Vuelta with nary a word to anyone. Needless to say, a crushed and ill-used Bjarne has finally given up and freed our time-trial god's right to court suitors elsewhere. Geez, Alberto, favored-domestique buy-ups on your behalf or not, I might be a little concerned about next year if I were you--Bjarne Riis is starting to make Lance Armstrong and Johan Bruyneel look good!

Mierda!: okay, I admit it: if Igor Anton couldn't do it (dammit!), I was seriously rooting for Ezequiel Mosquera to take the fabulous Vuelta, and watching Nibali claw back to him (aw, rats!) and almost take the stage on Bola del Mundo was a sailor-swear-fest 1 kilometer of couch-slumping misery. But Nibali earned the whole shebang fair and square, and Mosquera, to his everlasting credit, still valiantly took the stage. Congratulations to Nibali, and Mosquera--you still ought to be more than proud!

Robbie McEwen: Your Racejunkie Rider Profile O' the Week

All right, I couldn't stand writing about Armstrong's latest denials, that skankball Oscar Sevilla's latest doping escapades, or those doping-sucking weenies Bjorn "I Did It All For The Nookie" Leukemans' and Riccardo "Mama's Boy" Ricco's latest sissy-boy verbal slap-fight, and I've got an insult moratorium on Cav for heck's sake, so it's on to something more fun: Robbie "Head-Butt" McEwen, yer Racejunkie Rider Profile o' the Week! Why? 'Cause he's !@#damn Robbie McEwen @#$dammit, and he'll crush you faster'n you can say "holy crap, that psycho just used his teeth to rip my ear off!", you cockroach!

Official Nicknames: the Pocket Rocket, and, apparently, "De kangeroe van Brakel." Why "Head-Butt?" That's why!Priceless!

The Man, The Myth, The Legend: born in '72. Married with three darling tots. Fluent in Flemish--he can scream his head off at you perfectly in *two* languages!

Palmares: with over 200 victories since he turned pro in '96 with Rabobank, what *hasn't* this guy won, except maybe Alpe d'Huez? Since his first stage win in the Tour in '99, he's been humiliating fellow sprinters both there and in the Giro--as well as damn near every other race he's ever ridden--and, 3 Tour de France green jerseys later, has never looked back. Why bother, when you're first across the line anyway? Right on Robbie!

Quotes of Note: "Shut your mouth, or I will fill it with my fist." to Lance Armstrong, 2002 Tour de France. Y'know, I was gonna include others, including some of his gentlemanly tweets re: the dopus who whacked him off his bike after the line at the Tour this year, or the impressive list of profanities he unleashed on the poor s.o.b. who dared to interrupt his post-race Tour de Suisse cell phone call, but really, can one even improve on perfection?

Sweet Spots: Uncivilized? Nah, rather, perhaps just a wee bit less polished than your average effete top-hat euro-twerp. Routinely hoists his darling McEwenlets atop his podiums. Tweets his colleagues congrats for their every success. Generously signs autographs for the kiddies. Aside from the fact that he'll take you down if you look at 'im wrong, what's not to love?

Weakness: Robbie, please don't hurt me! Like sprinters twice his size, he can't climb the mountains worth squat. But he can still kick the !@#$ out of you from the autobus!

Special Skills: ex-BMX'er. Can this boy pop a wheelie, or what?

Well, Robblie's got at least one more year at his new Aussie squad, and for my money, that's all the better for the peloton. But remember--approach with caution--or at least keep up with your rabies shots!

R.I.P. Thomas Casarotto, 1990-2010

Thomas Casarotto, an extremely talented young Italian rider from the Generali UC Arcobaleno Mestre squad who was seriously injured after crashing into a small SUV which was unexpectedly on the side of the road on a descent on the third stage of the Giro del Friuli Venezia Giuli, died today at age 19. He was taken off life support and his organs donated to save the lives of others. He would have been 20 years old in late December.

Here he is in action:


Condolences to his team, family, and the Italian cycling community.

Mikel, My Belle--It's the Queen Stage of the Vuelta, Baby!

The Orange Revolution: yes, after Igor Anton's horrible crash-out, and while I was still ruminating on how heart-breaking it was the other day to see the screaming happy Euskaltel fanatics eagerly--and fruitlessly--awaiting Igor on the final climb, god-in-orange Mikel Nieve takes up the torch for Euskaltel-Euskadi, redeems their fans from misery, and, in smashingly emotional fashion, snags the stage! Even bitchiner', despite well deserving to keep the glory all to himself, he dedicated the win to Anton. Here's the replay: Yeeeeeeeeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaah--*that's* how it's done, you Euskaltel wannabes!

But It Ain't Over Yet: meantime, in GC news, things are lookin' mighty sweet for Vincenzo Nibali ahead of the time trial against his hopeless competition, but it ain't gonna decide it: that's for the penultimate day up the nasty Bola del Mundo. And with Rodriguez having taken back some serious time, and Frank Schleck still vowing to win the whole thing, who knows what'll happen by then? Nibali, you really oughtn't've said such nasty condescending !@#$ about Ezekiel Mosquera the other day--watch yer back (and Mosquera's) up that climb, honey!

Sex, Drugs, and Franco Pellizotti: over in Narcville, Franco "Goldilocks" Pellizotti has his date with the cycling cops sometime at the end of October for heck's sake, which means, *again*, that not only is Ivan Basso breathing yet another sigh of relief that he's got one less threat in his own team to deal with next year, but, as usual, UCI has utterly failed to do anything useful the past year unless you count cement-shoeing a couple of minor domestiques and putting poor Franco on the hot seat for dubious reasons as the rest of the doping scum-weasels get to ride along in the happy--and correct--conviction that no-one else of note is going down soon. Or are they?--because Velonews is sayin' that a whole passel of US-based pros and amateurs at least, ratted out by desperate dealer-jerk Joe Papp, are about to become one with prison time. Well, it ain't gonna be George or Levi--leaving completely aside the issue of their actual innocence, we *know* those ProTour boys can afford the good stuff!

Our Insult Moratorium Continues: and, as I ponder the next Racejunkie Rest Day Rider Profile o' the Week, I must inform my dear readers that, while I *was* gonna choose our fine moratorium winners Cavendish or Menchov, I decided I just can't stomach it. Did I mention they, um, own very nice bicycles? Dammit!

Aaaaaiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh! The Vuelta's Over

You *Suck*, Fate!: okay, I don't know who's in charge of this entire earthly show, or what the fabulous Euskaltel-Euskadi--and Igor Anton in particular--could possibly've done to offend the powers-that-be in the universe, but WHY must Vuelta race leader and eventual-winner-dammit Anton have hit the deck ripped off 3/4 of his skin til he looked like some gross science experiment busted his elbow and crashed out of the freakin' race on the very cusp of winning the whole show--what'd *he* ever do to anybody? Or, rather than being a giant cosmic catastrophe along the lines of the one-shot die-off of the dinosaurs, and the eternal forces of our world specifically having it in for one harmless bike racer in one harmless bike race over all the other things on the planet that might merit attention, I suppose it could've just been, y'know, a pothole. In which case, I don't know what the deal is with road-maintenance liability in Spain, but *some* jackass in charge of those whatever-the-hell-those-giant-roll-y-things-like-Zambonis-that-you-use-on-the-roads-are-called oughta go down in flames for it. Igor, of course, showed total class, issuing a statement on how wonderful his Vuelta was up to the very last moment and how he "lived a dream" and what a colossal joy and satisfaction it was to perform so well throughout, and, in a similar vein, both Joaquin Rodriguez and Nibali tempered the excitement of their respective victories with highly sporting wishes that it hadn't come about for them that way. Heck, even Rodriguez got stung smack in the eye by a wasp during the stage. No matter who or what is responsible for this craptastic crush-o'-my-soul--aaaaiiiiggghhhhhhhhh! Anyway, here's the miserable footage:Aw, *rats*!

The Next Step: first, if *I* were Ivan Basso, I'd be lookin' over my shoulder just about now and wondering if Nibali's planning a colossal Lance-on-Contadorian bushwhack a year or two down the line for total Liquigas leadership, but then, I'm just paranoid. Which Contador should've been, and look what happened to *that* poor bastid when he was all trusting! Second, though, even though it's likely between Rodriguez and Nibali at this point, in keeping with my grand tradition of losing underdog picks, I'm gonna have to root for Xacobeo's Ezequiel Mosquera or at least Cervelo's Xavier Tondo (in honor of dear little Sastre of course) from now on. How do you yell "allez allez" in Spanish again?

Another Plea to Universal Sports: hey--again--would you shmoes *please* stop posting the massive race news/stage result in ginormous type *right* on the login page for the on-demand video replay? Now instead of enjoying the stage with a wholly tranquillo sense of pleasant anticipation waiting for the favorites to battle it out on the final climb, I had to watch the freakin' thing with a gut-wrenching sense of imminent hurling waiting for Igor Anton to pulverize his body and his GC hopes on the tarmac. CUT IT OUT!

We've got Another Insult Moratorium Winner, and Enter Here to Win Free Stuff!: finally, our latest Insult Moratorium beneficiary is in, and Tusher, even though J. actually won and picked it, this one's for you: it's Mark Cavendish, baby! Who has, y'know, well, very handsome teeth. Jeez, c'mon already, first Menchov, now Cav--you guys are *killin'* me!

Um, Cav...You Know You *Won*, Right?

Exercises in Futility: look, Mark Cavendish is riding beautifully, and entirely deserved--and is lavishly, to his genuine credit, thanking Matt Goss and even his GC guys for--his wins the last couple stages. Here's today's win: So what the hell's the point of crying to the race organizers about how cruelly treated you were in the run-in to the line today? In case *you* hadn't noticed--'cause everyone else sure did--your own boys have played rough to other guys' actual *detriment* this year, so for my money, complaining rings, if not false, downright beeyotchy. You gonna dope-slap Tyler Farrar right in front of the cameras if you beat 'im fair and square for the final green jersey, too?

It's Back to the Mountains, Baby!: right on honey, enough of this wussy flat-stage crap at the Vuelta--but don't be fooled by the low elevation at the end, that is one vicious hors categorie leg-crusher with portions at a screamin' 19 degrees. Come on Euskaltel, it's got you boys written aaaaaaaaall over it (yeah, I know, just click to zoom in on the damn things):
And Sunday? We head towards the heavens with a disarmingly flat day til Lagos del Covadonga:. I know the first part of the race'll whack you, Carlos, but take it away!


TMI o' the week: sure, he's a regular playboy who loves sharp clothes, fast cars, and of course, the ladies. But don't think you're gonna come between Pippo Pozzato and the Worlds, you brazen slut, because, in what is surely the most earth-shattering news of the week, our John Travolta o' the eurodisco is--despite his incipient porn 'stache--swearin' off the nasty til the world champion stripes are his. Y'know, even *I* sometimes feel oily reading this !@#$. Can't our friends in the peloton all just agree to get back to the wholesome fun of hotel-room blood doping, sprint-barrier bushwhacking, and yankin' each other off their bikes by their jerseys? Oh, for those innocent, halcyon days of yore...

Our Rider Insult Moratorium Continues: finally, thank goodness we're already in week two of our inaugural Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest Rider Insult Moratorium, and while--rats, I can't even say *that*!--I do note that Denis Menchov is...um, several minutes ahead of Josep Jufre, Giampaolo Caruso, and Remy di Gregorio on GC. Dammit!

It's the 2010 Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest Part Tres!; And, We Have Another Winner!

Yes, it's nigh about the last week of the smashing Vuelta, so it's time for Week Tres of our 2010 Vuelta a Espana Win Free Stuff Contest! The Scoop: I choose one entry from all correct answerers from the Holy Once-Eroski Cap o' Destiny with my eyes squeezed shut I promise; it's my gig and I get to make the rules so please be sporting if you don't win; and anyone setting up a shrine to Euskaltel-Euskadi in their living room for the rest of the Vuelta gets bonus points and serious good karma for life. The Prizes: an exceedingly dashing custom-embroidered "racejunkie" cycling cap (be one of three folks on the planet to own one!); a two-week insult moratorium on your chosen rider (*please* show me some mercy!); and some stylin' racejunkie stickers for your bike, your gear, or, if you're a cold-hearted wisenheimer, your circular file. So enter here, and good luck to one and all!

And, our Week Two Contest Winner is: J. Novitzsky! J., check yer email for details, and thanks again to all for playing!

The War of the Wankers

All right, you heard it: Saxo Bank boss Bjarne Riis kicked Andy Schleck and Stuey O'Grady out of the Vuelta for going out for a beer after work. So let's cut to the chase: either Bjarne and Andy oughta man up and talk things out over coffee so they can end their relationship on civil terms, or they should grab a !@#damn ruler, head to the men's room, whip 'em out in front of a neutral party and settle their stupid manhood dispute once and for all. Andy--if you're putting yourself in the running as the Next Lance Armstrong in the self-involved suck-my-dirty-bike-socks-you-peons arrogant-jerkface sense, you're the dead-on favorite for the win. Bjarne--if you think you *don't* look like a bitter petty crybaby punk-!@# just trying to punish Andy for leaving you next season, you're an idiot. O'Grady--you're a god and I'm a hypocrite, so you're off the hook entirely on this one. Either way, you've both completely !@#$ed over your OWN LEGITIMATE VUELTA GC CONTENDER--for whom a podium finish was still possible, at least until yesterday--and acted like a couple of overtired spoiled toddlers shrieking it out over a broken freakin' Tonka truck in the sandbox. Classy! Now Bjarne, head back to the team bus and try to salvage your squad's last hurrah with *some* dignity!

Dave Zabriskie: the Racejunkie Rider Profile o' the Week

Okay, it's a rest day at the fabulous Vuelta, and if there's anything less entertaining to cover than Pippo Pozzato whining that he's really not trying to evade Italian taxes by spending weekends crashing in Monaco, I've yet to hear of it. So today, a new and exciting feature at racejunkie: yer Rider Profile o' the Week! Our inaugural victim: Dave Zabriskie. Enjoy!

The Man: He was born in '79. He's got a gorgeous family. He started a cool nonprofit to smooth the ruffled feathers twixt bikes and motorists 'cause he was tired of getting whacked by cars. And best of all, despite a vicious theft of his stuff aways back, he's still got a truly bitchin' collection of action figures. Oh, right, and he's one of the best cyclists of his generation. Sweet!

The Palmares: geez, I could barely count the wins. Suffice it to say that if it's him, you, or damn near anyone else on earth against the clock, the one going down ain't him. 2000 Under-23 time trial national champ. Individual time trials at all three Grand Tours, and, not coincidentally, the first American to win stages in all three of 'em. Hear that, Armstrong? I thought not! Plus, he's busted at Sea Otter, the Dauphine, the Toura Missoura, the Bahamas, and for Postal, CSC, and Garmin. Is there anything this man can't do?

The Pundit: sure, he's been known to ask Alessandro Petacchi about his penchant for Star Wars, query Charly Wegelius as to whether he's ever had Liquigas, inquire of Stuey O'Grady if he's ever done kangaroo boxing, and comment on his bathroom habits on Twitter, but for my money, the man is truly on his game this year--he responded to the news Landis had popped in at the Tour of California with a cheerful "tell him I said hi," and, best of all, quoth in this year's Tour de France that "Jens for sure is one bad ass mofo." Right on, Dave!

The Entrepreneur: cyclist by day, purveyor of nut- and petal-protecting chamois creams by night--the boy is just unstoppable. What's it do? See here--heck, it even makes you sing!



The Moustache: finally, not perhaps since Franco of the Euromullet Pellizotti's golden-highlighted Samsonian tresses has the peloton seen such a sartorial, as well as cycling, dedication to furry perfection. Why should you care? Because somewhere, in this man's wholesome clean-shavenness, Van Dykes, Grizzly Adamses, and flat-out 70s Porn Stars, is the key, you can be sure, to the roadie, the time trialist, and to his sheer Zabriskian genius. Armchair shrinks--get to work!

I'm Lookin' For Pound Notes, Loose Change, Bad Checks, Anything/Gimme Some Money!

Money(That's What I Want): Okay, I am absolutely certain that Floyd Landis of all righteous moralists filed a federal whistleblower suit--hilariously, of course, complaining that *Lance Armstrong* defrauded the Postal Service--completely unaware that he could, with no other livelihood anywhere in sight, score a cool 30% of the government's possibly enormous take for the (allegedly!) fake-sainthood hero-scam of of his former team captain. That said--and sincerely if doubtfully hoping that the man just truly had a change of heart about his own wrongdoing--can Landis do *anything* lately that doesn't make him look like a greedy bitter wanker just flat-out pissed that Lance's been treated like a god (by the US public, at least) while he's been treated like the slimy neighborhood schoolyard drug dealer handing out free samples of high-grade heroin to 12-year-olds? Me, I think Floyd could have a fighting chance of someday restoring his grossy-toileted reputation if he did something like, say, Tour de France cheat-scum Bernhard Kohl did--open a bike shop. Everybody likes a nice bike shop, right? Shut the hell up about your past, stay out of the public eye for ten or twenty years, fit the kiddies for their first Trek, secure a cute dinosaur-patterned helmet on their heads, toss in a couple of free energy-drink samples for Daddy--presto, by 2030 at the latest, redemption! Oh, if *only* dreams could come true...

Oh, Yeah, Baby--Look Who's In Red Tonight!: yep, that's Igor Anton of Euskaltel-Euskadi. Eat that, you big-budget rider-thieving ProTour bullies! Next up: Shleck and Nibali sob quietly into their muesli as Euskaltel kicks their !@# even at the hotel breakfast buffet. Yeeee-haaaaaah--all we need is Sastre to come storming back (shut up! will too! didn't you see him attack today?) and we've got hot'n'steamy Vuelta a Espana perfection!

Good News for Boonen Fans: and, in addition to filming all the soft-core shower-scenes one could ever want from a cyclist, big Belgian babe-magnet Tom Boonen looks to be getting back to his *actual* job: riding his bike (hey, no complaining!). Best of all, he's ridden 120 k on his comely if damaged knee pain-free, and expects to be back at the end of the month. Ah, well, I suppose it'll have to be pictures of some silly "bike race" from now on--but we'll always have Sea World!

Aw, Man, That's *Cold*!: finally, courtesy of valued reader Tom, the beneficiary of our Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium is--Denis Menchov! To that, I say...um, Denis looks very pretty in pink and orange. Dammit!

Remember, Week Two of our contest is on...so enter here to Win Free Stuff!

R.I. P. Txema Gonzalez, Team Sky Soigneur

Sad News: Team Sky has unexpectedly lost soigneur Txema Gonzales, who was working at the Vuelta, to a bacterial infection. No, I didn't know his name, and neither did you I would wager, most likely because he did his job exactly as it was supposed to be done. For those of us unfamiliar with the crucial, unheralded, and sometimes downright unpalatable job these folks perform, here's a typical day in the life, and an interview with Saxo Bank's Philippe Jamin. Without them, pro cycling as we know it today simply couldn't exist.

Condolences to family, friends, and the whole Team Sky family.

It's the 2010 Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest Part Dos!; and, We Have A Winner!

Yes folks, the entries are in, the correct answer was "France" (because only Mickael Buffaz actually crashed, and everyone else dropped out from disgusting intestinal problems), I've dipped into the Holy ONCE/Eroski Cap o' Destiny with eyes shut tight, and the winner is: Tom! Congratulations on rightly pegging the French to choke first, I'll announce the lucky beneficiary of our Two Week Rider Insult Moratorium as soon as I hear the grim news, and now everyone, it's on to Week Two of our contest!

The Rules: you read right the first time: winners will be picked weekly, with my eyes closed I promise, from correct answers to random questions from said ONCE/Eroski icon; serious Euskaltel-Euskadi freaks and anyone insulting Denis Menchov may get extra consideration; the boring legal crap is on the contest site; and I reserve the rights to anything and everything so kindly suck it up. The bitchin' prizes: an extremely dashing custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap (be, most likely, the only one on your continent to own one!); a two-week insult moratorium on your chosen cyclist; and, I'll toss in some stylin' official racejunkie stickers to boot!

Enter here. Good luck to one and all!

Woo-Hoo! and, Aw, Rats!

Give 'Em Hell, Euskaltel!: aw, yeah, baby, those ProTour bullies haven't yet poached everyone from Euskaltel like a pack of toothless crazed meth-mouthed drug-desperate thief-addicts, 'cause remaining team bad-!@# Igor Anton snagged the stage from a hungry (and likely podium finisher, I'm starting to be convinced) Nibali. Woo-hoo--time to dress up in Halloween colors buy a cross-Atlantic ticket pound back the vino (the wine, not the rider you pervs) and scream my head off, for there's more to come, baby! What, *still* no money in my Give Racejunkie Yer Hard-Earned Dough Out of Pity Fund? !@#$! I'll just have to do all that stuff at work, then...


Aw, Rats!: y'know, it's lucky I'm naturally fair and unbiased, as well as a good sport, 'cause otherwise I'd be wrongly accusing wholly innocent Denis Menchov of surreptitiously implanting a discreet tiny motor in his !@# which of course must be the only explanation for why Carlos came in a minute 25 back on him Tuesday. That, or quiet Carlos as usual is planning to whomp him senseless in the third week while Menchov plods along in the happy delusion he won't get unexpectedly nut-kneed on the penultimate day. Allez allez Carlos--and take that Cervelo' for dissing 'im!

What Goes Up, Must Come Down (Well, Actually the Reverse I Suppose): meantime, continued well wishes to sensitive speedster Cav's sadly heat-wrenched guts, if for no other reason that he can be confident next time he gets beaten that he really deserves to get beaten, and here's hoping for a fast return to health for fine Brit team Sky, likewise taken out by its own team-wide gackfest, 'cause a race with half the peloton clutching their roiling stomachs and crying into their pillows in agony, honey, ain't no race at all. Aw, guys, didn't anyone ever *tell* you to skip the ceviche when it's 98 degrees out? Here, let me get you some nice flat ginger ale and a little piece of white toast (no butter) instead...I'll turn on "Jersey Shore" on TV for you, too....

Medic!: finally, don't panic everyone--doe-eyed cutie Alberto Contador is okay--he fell on his *knee* during training, not his "pistolero" finger. Whew, thank heavens--a day without that pistolero gesture is like a day without being eaten alive by rabid foaming wolverines! Wait, I don't think I got that last one quite right...

Laurent Fignon, 1960-2010

laurent fignon
Uploaded by pierrelenuage. - Up-to-the minute news videos.

Huuuuuuuuu Are You?/Hu Hu, Hu Hu/I Really Wanna Know!

Bow Your Heads: First, I'd like us all to pause for a moment of silence for poor Mark Cavendish, who, a bit too delicate of constitution for the heat, was forced to barf his way through the stage and *still* managed to come up second, albeit not against anyone he'd have expected as a threat, as everyone else with clearly *no* excuse nonetheless trudged in behind. Splendid, I'm sure you all felt the same reverence just now as I did. Second, holy moly Hutarovich--we can reasonably debate whether the boy is or truly can be a longer-term world-class sprinter, but clearly this stealthy little killer's got brains, so if from now on Cav & co get too comfortable again, watch out: And Thor, I don't care how full yer head is over some stupid thing like 'preserving your livelihood, 'signing a new contract with Garmin' and 'aw, crap, I'm Tyler's doormat next year!'--32nd? *Focus*!

Stop Eating Euskaltel-Euskadi Alive, Dammit!: all right, you carrion-sucking Pro Tour vultures, we all know the Basques (and the squad's occasional Spaniard) climb like winged gods and you should all kneel before them (drop, peons!), but once and for all, can you quit dangling shiny trinkets in front of 'em like some loveless loser traveling salesman trying to buy up a desperate crack ho? Worse than just jackin a bitchin' team, Euskaltel's own star talent inevitably gets doomed instead to craptastic perpetual Grand Tour sub-domestique beeyotchhood. First Zubeldia, now it's Benat Intxausti--right on Samuel Sanchez for sticking with the lords in orange!

The Fall of the Roman Empire : meantime, if Bjarne Riis thinks Fabian Cancellara's stuck with him and Contador next season, he should think again: Fabian's been in contact with several other squads, and he's just waiting for a sweet little chat with his team boss. Geez, Sastre, Basso, the Schlecks--nice work pissing off every rider who's ever worked for you, Bjarne--damn, maybe baby Schleck is right when he suggests you and Alberto are gonna slug it out like cagefighters next year! On the other hand, you *did* cop to taking drugs at *your* Tour de France--might be entertaining to set you up against wee unenhanced Alberto on pay-per-view!

When Life Gives You Clemens, Make Lemonade: now, I don't ordinarily care about stupidity in other sports--largely because there's *so* much to admire in this one--but here's a cautionary tale for those-who-shall-remain-nameless who shamelessly lied to the feds in the course of their doping investigations: yes, baseball hulk Roger "I'm sure my neck's this huge just from eatin' Wheaties" Clemens plead not guilty to perjury charges. Um, not to cast aspersions on anyone who might have the resources to successfully sue me, but am I the only one thinkin' there's a good half-dozen riders whose noses oughta be about 10 feet longer than they look right now? Ow, something poked me!

A Kind Request for Universal Sports: for !@#$'s sake, you're doing it *again*--for those of us who have to pony up for streaming coverage (an opportunity for which I am extremely grateful btw) because we can't get your cable channel in our area and unfortunately have too much integrity to suck up all our employer's time and superior bandwidth during the day, and therefore avoid all daytime news sources til we get home at night, can you please NOT flash the !@#damn stage result RIGHT on the screen we have to use to LOG IN?! Otherwise, what the !@#$ is the point of paying up *and* being in the dark for 9 hours for this !@#$? Many thanks, love, racejunkie. Now fix it!

Yer Win Free Stuff Contest Update

All right, my goof on the question--there's already been a crash-out, so any wisenheimer who enters now'll know the right answer to the question. Ergo, in keeping with my notice of total arbitrary control, the q is now "the first *riders* to crash out of the Vuelta will be...." Anyone cashing in on prior crashes will be declared completely punk-!@#. Now back to the race, and good luck to one and all w/the contest!

It's the 2010 Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest!

Yes, faithful reader(s), tho' I was (1) too broke-!@# (2) too lazy and (3) too irritated with the screeching Lance Armstrong apologists this year to repeat the 2009 Tour de France contest, I'm happy to announce that, for you truly hardcore cycling nuts, the 2010 Vuelta a Espana Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest is on, baby!

The Rules: winners will be picked weekly, with my eyes closed, from correct answers to arbitrary questions from the Holy ONCE/Eroski Cycling Cap o' Destiny; serious Euskaltel-Euskadi fanatics and anyone insulting Denis Menchov may get extra consideration; the boring legal crap is on the contest site; and I reserve the rights to anything and everything 'cause it's my damn contest so kindly quitcher whinin'. The bitchin' prizes: an extremely dashing custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap (be, most likely, the only one on your continent to own one!); a two-week insult moratorium on your chosen cyclist; and, I'll toss in some stylin' official racejunkie stickers to boot!

Enter here. Good luck to one and all--thanks for participating, and let the fabulous Vuelta begin!

It's the 2010 Vuelta a Espana, Baby!

Tour, Schmore--yep, for agonizing climbs, blood-curdling descents, and general Spanish mayhem, it just don't get better than the glorious Vuelta, baby! Ergo, your Short'n'Sweet Handy-Dandy Clip'n'Save Guide to the Bitchinest Race on Earth:

The Course: no rest for you, viewers--the final podium selection's set up to go down to the penultimate day on the excruciatingly steep new climb of the Bola del Mundo! But first, to get there: a 13k introductory team time trial, 8 mountain stages, 6 summit finishes, 5 sprints--mostly towards the middle and end, so no bailing out after the first few stages for Cav!--one individual time trial for the climbers to tank at the end, and a bunch of inevitable-smackdown attack-happy rollers. Which brings us to...

The GC Contenders: no, Contador and Samu' aren't riding, which blows--but wee little Carlos, Frank Schleck, Denis Menchov, everybody's dark horse menaces Nibali and Arroyo, Euskaltel's Igor Anton (shut up! will too!), I guess I gotta mention Denis Menchov dag nabit, and last but not least, Alejandro Val--oops! Bu-steeeeeeed! Anyway, I'm not counting out big bro Frank, who's lookin' for revenge for his early-out Tour--but everyone else can go to hell and stuff it on the journey down 'cause right or wrong I'm rootin' for Carlos!

The Sprinters: all right, if he don't drop out crying in the first week, or make one of his lead-outs pull a skank move in the last 1000 meters, we all know Cav's gonna take somethin'--but Oscar Freire's latest freak-show medical crisis is behind him, and assuming no one actually tries to take the boy out with a pellet gun like in last year's Tour, there's some nasty little uphills that'll give 'im an edge. Then again, if Petacchi sneaks his way past the narcs, he's been quite the shocker threat this season. And of course, there is--when you don't run him into the barriers like a cheap-shot wuss-baby--Tyler Farrar. Woo-hoo Oscar!

The Stage Winners: Okay, LL Cool Sanchez--who I swear is still underrated for sometime-soon GC contention despite his recent prowess as a Classics man--is a given. And since Van de Velde sez he's in no shape for GC, I'm guessin' he's gonna try to redeem his Grand Tour luck from the Swill-Suckin' Pit o' Tarmac-Slurpin' Doom. But natch, we know the real score--8 times out of 10, Euskaltel's gonna exterminate the rest of 'em like Raid-soaked termites. Go Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeel!

The Dope Fiends: thanks to UCI, I mean, to a 100% honest, perfectly clean & genuinely sportsmanlike peloton, there weren't any pozes at the Tour de France this year, but since, in a complete abomination against God, the eyes of the world aren't trained on the Vuelta--in fact, since hardly anyone watches this mindbogglingly smashing race at all--I'm guessing they'll all show up here instead. Enablers much?

Who's Got It: steephill.tv's got a great list of who's got what coverage where when'n how. English-language coverage in the US: Universal Sports. Outside the US: Eurosport. !@#$dammit Universal, can you please (1) hire Phil and Paul away from Versus if they're just gonna waste 'em on Lance tributes anyway and (2) please sign some kind of last-minute deal with my lame local cable companies?

Well, fellow Vuelta wingnuts, that's my quickie--grab yer orange t-shirts, hit the slopes (or your computer screen), and get ready to scream your head off for the climbing gods of Euskaltel-Euskadi! Next up: the rules for the 2010 Racejunkie Vuelta a Espana Win Free Stuff Contest!

You *Suck*, Amgen EPO Tour of California!

Not Again!: yep, beloved ex-frat-boy-in-spandex Tom Boonen's knee injury's delaying his late-season return *again*, and for my money, this, combined with all the season-screwing injuries at the stupid race that took out the riders, proves the massively horrible monstrousness of rescheduling the Tour of California during the perfect Giro d'Italia which Tommeke and everyone else would've been riding instead. Wah, wah, rain in February, wah--at least *then* half the peloton's entire *years* weren't wrecked for nothin'! Tom, all best wishes for a speedy, pain-free, and successful return--not least because even with your prolific film palmares, I fear I'm starting to run short on soft-core interim entertainment to tide over your fans, so if you're not gonna make blue movies a formal career, you better get back to sprinting post-haste!

The Eye of the Tiger: okay, I only made a cutting-edge "Rocky" reference to a tiger because I couldn't think of anything involving irksome returning cheat-weenie Riccardo Ricco's nickname "the Cobra," but in any case, seems like UCI's doing *exactly* what this sport needs to clean it up: no, not "actually catching dopers," you endearingly off-base naifs, they're keeping Ricco' from riding the GP Plouay tomorrow because of paperwork problems with processing his new Vacansoleil contract! Whew, I don't know about you, but *I* have just had all my worries about the integrity of cycling, the potentially devastating harm of tempting yet untested performance-enhancing drugs on rider health, and the general nobility of fair play with equally gentlemanly competitors evaporate into the air like sparkling dew kissing the sunrise. *Thanks*, UCI!

Gratuitous We Love Jens Video o' the Week: no, there's no particularly newsworthy reason for this whatsoever--but Jens is a god, so what's your !@#damn problem, punk?!

Check Out the New Luxembourg Squad's Bikes!: finally, speaking of Jens, and not to destroy the Tour de France dreams of Frank and Andy Schleck's new gig, but here's an entirely unauthorized sneak peek at their time trial bikes for 2011. Watch out, Cancellara--and you other ProTour rivals can thank me for the tip-off later!

Free Robbie McEwen!; and, Postal Circles the Wagons

Let "Head-Butt" Ride, Australia!: okay, in cyclist years, Robbie McEwen's an actual, clinical linen-wrapped, dessicated, pyramid-entombed mummy. And thanks to a bunch of crap injuries, and the natural change in form that may accompany eligibility for National Historic Landmark status, our angsty boy hasn't exactly had the best season--until now, when it counts. So why the hell didn't the Aussies pick Robbie for the Worlds !@#dammit? Yes, Australia's got a hell of a field to choose from, and on their home turf no less. But with Robbie coming in to great shape at last, his incredible toughness and tenacity--and, more importantly one would think from your end, his documented propensity for unpredictable physical violence--what the !@#% is wrong with you Australia?! Free Robbie, you twisted ungrateful soulless freaks!

He's Baaa-aaack!: yes, in a blast from the past, ONCE/Liberty Seguros impresario Manolo Saiz, who if I recall correctly was totally coincidentally busted in Op Puerto having an espresso and a suitcase full o' tens of thousands of euros (for the espresso bill, no doubt) with Dr. Eufemiano "Gyno the Male Stars" Fuentes, is indeed, as cyclingnews reports, back in action and lookin' to dru--I mean, start a new squad in Asia, with a particular--and really, just heartbreakingly emotionally touching--focus on "rider development." And while I admit I'm rather baffled as to all the article and reader comment references to 'puff pastry,' I'm sure it's not some kind of pervert code for 'homologous blood doping.' Anyway, watch out for those mystery skin patches, kids--and ya never know when you're gonna have to testify under oath about yer funny-lookin' 'Flintstones vitamins'!

Spin Doctors: meanwhile, you know things are lookin' bad when Lance Armstrong has to hire an even huger PR slut to supplement his existing stable of hired legal, PR, and general damage-control goons, and, with poor knee-whacked George Hincapie doing the same, one must ask this crucial question of Lance--no, not did you dope, like everyone doesn't already assume *that* you silly child, and no, how does it feel to know that your insatiable ego's inability to let go of the spotlight for 10 freakin' minutes completely destroyed your impeccable (and, to be fair, well-earned) rep as the tough-as-naiils noble golden-boy of comebacks 'n' Tour wins as you finally retired in ignominy whining about your hip when half the peloton is finished the Tour in full-body casts this year--but, as everyone who ever rode for you gets called in by the feds with their dreams of trial-of-the-century glory, and has to consider the relative value of tarnishing their own humbler reputations even further, committing perjury, or protecting your sorry ungrateful !@#, aren't you *just* wondering the *tiniest*, least bit in the back of your narcissistic mind whether it mightn't have paid off for you to have treated your submissive spirit-crushed domestiques just the *wee-est* bit better back in the day? I know I am--karma, baby!

Musical Bikes: finally, transfer season continues hot'n'heavy in the peloton, and while I'm deeply grateful to dear Anonymous for clarifying that Thor Hushovd wasn't *quite* the vicious ass-hat about Carlos Sastre's recent performance as it had earlier seemed--in no small part because, had I been forced to challenge Thor to a duel over Carlos' honor, I'm still fairly certain that despite my deadly freshman-year fencing prowess and astonishing valuable back-up ability to scurry beneath the big lug's legs in retreat like a cowardly garbage-thieving rat, he would still have kicked my butt--I remain abjectly horrified that now 2008 TOUR CHAMP FOR HECK's SAKE Sastre is under the thumb of that stealth Samu-Sanchez-screwing and Vuelta-snakin' podium wanker Denis Menchov, which means, I imagine, that Carlos is gonna get the Giro, and Menchov'll get the Tour and, if he wants it, Carlos' hometown Vuelta. Geez, Geox, kick the guy in the package while you're signing him whydon'tcha--Carlos, don't take any crap from that commie punk, only one of ya has worn yellow in Paris and it ain't him!