When *I* Was A Youngster, We Rode Up Alpe d'Huez on Wooden Wheels, and We *Liked* It!

Damn Whippersnappers!: yep, the generational war is on: legendary cycling god Bernard "You !@#$ With My Podium, I Land On You Like Bricks!" Hinault has weighed in on the sport's doping scandals, saying that while cycling *is* being way picked on, he still wouldn't even hock a lougie on that sport-destroying systemic-scarfin' dirtbag Lance Armstrong to help put a raging fire out on his head. Hell, I can respect that! The problem: guys like former drug-stoked pro Jorg "Did Not! Did Not! Okay, Maybe I Did" Jaksche are calling bull!@#$, saying not only has doping been around since the early days when cyclists famously smoked to "open their lungs," but Hinault--uh, his generation--itself consumed enough speed to turn a bunch of nacho-stuffed football-watchin' couch-spud nut-scratchers into Flash Gordon supersonic superstars, so who is *he* to complain, the disgusting hypocrite? Well !@#dammit, if these coddled futuristic EPO-eating blood-gorging vampire weaklings hadn't had access to such advanced obvious supercharged rocketfuel !@#$ no-one'd ever've gotten busted in the first place! Oh, Bernard, you were all *so* ripped off with the primitive drugs around in your day....

Don't Worry Your Pretty Little Heads: meantime, newish UCI prez Brian "I Heart Women's Cycling" Cookson has explained his opposition to a minimum wage for women's (though of course not men's) cycling: forget all that crap with the thousands of fans lining the roadside for women's races in recent years, if you make the sponsors pay the riders enough for the women to not have to fence stolen goods outta the back of a truck for a living, they'll all lose incredible piles of money and bail outta the sport, and *then* whose fault would it be? I tells ya, give those petty high-maintenance pampered princesses an inch and they'll start demanding bathroom breaks once a day! And water to drink! And, like, equipment from the 21st century and stuff! !@#$, they'll be whining for those incredibly expensive energy drinks, the *men's* teams might be down one for their towel guys! And who'll offer me fries with that if the cyclists don't have to get a second job at McDonald's to survive? The horror, the horror...

Puritoooooooooooooo!: finally, watch out Valverde--at least--we love Purito Rodriguez is coming for your podium spots, as, while you're knockin' yerself out herding Nairo Quintana up the high passes playing superdomestique, he's decided to ride both the Tour de France and the Vuelta. Odds of you having at least one race-destroying catastrophic meltdown day in either Grand Tour--well, pretty freakin' high, let's be honest. Odds of Purito kicking your !@# up and down the mountains at a steady pace with intermittent streaks of intimidating speed--pretty darn sweet. Allez allez Purito--the Vuelta at least is yours--is so either people, bite me you haters!