It's Yer Holy Crap It's Time for the Mountains Giro d'Italia Roundup!

Okay, one prologue, a couple boring sprints, an ugly transfer day, and two bumpy wake-up calls later, we're finally back and well-entrenched on Italian soil, so to those just tuning in now (and those just waking up), welcome to the smashing 101st Giro d'Italia! So what've we learned, and what's a-comin'? This!

1. Shut up, Froome. Jaysus!

2. Elia Viviani is doing his team, and country, proud. See what happens when all the other top sprinters skip the race in favor of that stupid Amgen EPO Tour o' California or to hold back for the gaudy Tour de France?

3. As usual, the prologue !@#$ed the GC on Day 1. Word time trial champ--and freakishly inexplicable high-peaks whiz kid--Dumo slaughtered the field, with (to be fair, this sucked--I want him to get his !@# kicked staying upright) Froome bashed up from a recon ride and dropping 37 seconds (up to 55 now with him too nervous to use his mot--uh, mojo), flyweight Pinot at 34' on the day, piccolo Chaves at 47, perpetual almost Fabio Aru at 57, and Lopez at 1:14, so it's gonna be a looooooong ride back to the podium for most of 'em. Hell, since apparently being 2 feet taller and 80 kilos heavier won't do the trick, maybe Dumoulin'll have another--nope, I'm sure they've got his digestive system under control this time, you're all just hosed!

4. !@#$IN' HELL ASTANA, CAN YOU *TRY* NOT TO RUN OVER THE INNOCENT RACE MARSHAL/ROAD FURNITURE FLAG ALERT GUYS? Oh, that was the Tour de Yorkshire. !@#$IN' HELL ASTANA, CAN YOU NOT PULL THIS STUPID !@#$ AT THE GIRO OR ANYWHERE ELSE EVER AGAIN YOU EEJITS?!

5. Ya gotta love Riccardo Ricco'. After hiding behind the skirts of first his own girlfriend, *then* his own grandma when he got popped, he's finally decided to stick his hand up like that annoying kid in science class who can't bear to be ignored for two seconds with his new book "Heart of the Weasel"--uh, "Cobra", with the apparent revelation that while he'd definitely still dope today, as one must, he'd probably not be so parsimonious as to refuse to pony up serious dough for medical assistance instead of what he did last time, which was to stick his blood bag in his dorm fridge next to the mold-mangled remains of a two-week-old burrito and the disconcertingly off-smelling mayonnaise. Y'know twerp--everyone *still* likes Rasmussen better, so !@#$ off! David Millar, though, you might beat in a yearbook popularity contest, so I suppose that's something old boy!

5. Stage hunters, enjoy this while it lasts--'cause starting tomorrow, the time-screwed mountaineers are gonna jostle you for anything left that they think they can get. Aruuuuuuuuuuuuu--well, maybe you'd better hold off for a superhuman effort in week 3!

6. Ale Petacchi, who was notoriously busted for asthmatic-rhino levels of inhaler juice a ways back, was waxing poetic on his Twitter about his gorgeous 2004 Giro victories. Okay, he got a *little* wheezy in his day, but am I the *only* one who still loves and misses Fassa Bortolo's beautiful blue train from the long-past eons when sprinters still *came* to the mountain-monster Giro with joy?

7. Outside the bellissime roads of Sicily, meantime, Nacer Bouhanni has apparently gotten into a "violent" altercation with his Cofidis DS on team bus which, given cyclists' usual ineptitude at the manly art of the bar brawl, usually consists of nothing more'n taking a wild swing in someone's general direction with an empty bidon or, God forbid, attempting to give one's rival a "noogie", but with a trained pugilist on the downslide like Bouhanni could actually mean a pretty decent sucker-punch to the noggin. !@#dammit Bouhanni, hold it together--if you blow yer chance at the Tour team, who's gonna be there to body-check that horrid little punk Moscon?

Well, tomorrow the fearsome Mt. Etna beckons. Now *what's* that !@#$ you have to wrap all yer discreet motorized assistance with so it doesn't get molten by lava?

It's Yer Giro d'Italia in Preview, Part Due: The GC Contenders!

Look, let's face it--to my eternal enmity, and what should be the World Tour's eternal chagrin, ain't nobody sending their "A-Teams" to the beautiful Giro this--or lately, any--year, opting instead for the garish golden circus, and inevitably maillot-jaune-disgracing doping scandal, of the Tour. You *suck*, cycling! Anyhoo, the squads are contractually bound to send *somebody*, so here they are, and with any luck, the actual winner won't be *too* much of an embarrassment. Any anyway, it's the Giro--*nothing* will mar its beauty dammit, or else! So, in no particular order except the person who pisses me off the most first, the GC:

1. Chris Froome. First--shut up, Froome. Second, you're only riding this for (1) the 1.5 million euros you're getting, you overpriced ho and (2) so you've still got a Grand Tour victory this year on the (extremely) off chance the UCI shows some nuts and doesn't allow you to defile the Tour de France, which *itself* is such an insult to the perfect Giro that you don't deserve to ride it at all, you contemptible alien stick figure. Still, we're stuck with you *and* your hideous ungainly riding style. The hell with your recon of the route: can we just lock this monstrosity into a screening room with 360 degree displays of Contador, Pantani and Heras climbing so he can at least learn some grace?

2. Tom Dumoulin: Amazingly, Tom "Andre the Giant" Dumoulin has managed to turn himself into a 5-foot-2-inch, 120-lb climbing specialist, and while the whole cycling world--the sick freaks--'ll mostly be tuning in with a toxic mix of prurience, fascination, and dread to see if a graphic replay of last year's notorious Ass-Gate returns, I'll be watching wondering why I wasted my time on a stupid law degree rather'n some advanced physics crown that could enable me to figure out how his still-newish climbing ability is possible within the known or theoretical physical structure of the universe. Nonetheless, Dumo's riding, his stubble is carefully curated for maximum photo op, and he just insulted Froome today, so in my book, he's got a good possibility to win against the Evil Twig, tho' of course the winner should actually be Italian. So Forza Dumo!

3. Thibaut Pinot. Ah, Thibaut. So close, but yet so !@#$ed. The q is can he overcome his team and apparently mandatory ill-timed bad luck, illness or injury. The asnswer is, there's no shame in a podium, kid! Heck, why not be happy with a coupla stages or a lovely KOM jersey, to boot?

4. Miguel Angel Lopez. If this were the Tour, we wouldn't be having this conversation, talented as he is. But this ain't and we are. The mountains are a done deal--but can he survive the rest of the course?

5. Mikel Landa. WHAT THE !@#$ ARE YOU DOING MIKEL I TOLD YOU TO WIN THE GIRO TO GAIN UNQUESTIONED CAPTAINCY AND STREET CRED BEFORE GOING FOR THE TOUR! Now you'll just waste half of July shaking Nairo *and* that crafty little !@#$ Valverde off your wheel, not focusing on your external enemies. WHAT THE !@#$?

6. Fabio Aru: Let's be honest, the Next Great Italian Hope has seemed a little, well, melancholy at never having quite yet lived up to his potential. But you may surprise us, little flyweight--on a good day, you're still a panting, awkward, tenacious pleasure to watch, and if you can get your confidence up, your legs, I truly believe, can follow. Vai vai vai vai vai--and don't let the belittling press get you down!

7. Simon Yates: C'mon man. No matter how perfectly he sets this up, he's gonna collapsed like a 10-story house-o'-cards whacked by a bazooka. Yap, yap, Yates fans--I'm prepared to eat my words, but fairly certain that I won't have to!

8. Esteban Chaves: go to hell, can too either! So what if he can't do any of the other kinds of stages? No one cares about those in the Giro anyways!

Ok, barring catastrophe--or embodying it--there's yer GC. Tomorrow last but not least, yer sprinty-rolly-stagey guys!

It's Yer Incredibly Prestigious 2017 Vuelta a Espana racejunkie Awards!

Yes, cycling fans, you yelled through the Giro, you swore through the Tour, you cried through the Vuelta--so what's left, beyond a drunken post-letdown blur til the season's last hurrah at the Worlds? That's right, it's Yer Incredibly Prestigious racejunkie Awards! Prizes--and I swear on my sainted ONCE cap, so you know this !@#$ is true--eternal notoriety (for good or ill), a passel of handsome racejunkie stickers, some kinda trophyish tchotchke engraved, if at all, with what's already on it when I find it at the thrift store, and--honest--a high-quality custom-embroidered racejunkie cycling cap. So honorees--and dishonorees--let's get this party started right!

Punk-!@# Move o' the Vuelta: bad enough that Chris Froome's obviously using a mo--motivational coach to keep his spirits high, but now this greedy hypocrite has to contest the sprint jersey on the final day--when he's constantly complaining that etiquette-ignoring unsportsmanlike GC contenders are daring to attack him on, y'know, *GC* when he inevitably has to switch wheels, take an extended graphic bathroom break, or hit the spa for a hot-stone massage, Dead Sea mud mask and organic moisturizing mani-pedi at the base of the every climb. Wah, wah, the written rules allow it--you *suck*, Froome!

Deja Vu All Over Again Award: !@#$, I didn't realize Lance, Christian, Dave, Floyd, & the rest of the boys were still riding! Oh wait, that's *not* US Postal with 8 robot guys hammering at the front of every mountain-high til every other chump in the race has cracked like a rotten walnut? Sky, PostalDiscovery--I imagine they'll go down in history the same way, anyhow!

This Team Will Self-Destruct in Five Seconds/Argy-Barguil Prize: have stage dreams of yer own backed by yer obvious form, but fail to adequately support yer team leader? If you're Team Sky at the Tour, you...well, boy, do you give Landa a stern talking-to back at the bus! If you're Team Sunweb at the Vuelta, and you're dealing with pampered princess/recent Tour King of the Mountains Warren Barguil, we're sending your disobedient !@# home! And to the next clown, give Wilco yer damn wheel when he needs it, or else!

Absolutely !@#$in' Useless Award: Before UCI makes it official, I'd like to congratulate them *and* the pro peloton on another 100% totally-honestly doping-free Grand Tour. Now come get yer cap before I whack you impotent protectionist !@#$shit artists upside the head with it!

If At First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again Award: let's face it: current Grand Tour tactics suck. No-one attacks, everyone treats the race leader as if he's their own team captain they can't ride against, and guys are aiming for second or third on the podium like first place has been eliminated entirely. But Alberto Contador--love 'im or hate 'im, think he's clean or a career-long cheat--you can't deny he goes all-in in *every* *freakin'* *race* he's ever ridden, to particularly spectacular effect on his second career victory on the Angliru. Gracias gracias gracias, fuoriclasse Alberto--we're gonna miss you, little guy!

Totally Normal (If You're Duct-Taped to a Rocket Being Launched Into Actual Space) Prize: okay, maybe he's just spinning a granny gear--who wouldn't? On the sharpest possible gradient on the sharpest possible climb on the sharpest possible day. But y'know kid, legit or no, it looks a *whole* lot better if you even *appear* to be breathing while you're doing it. Loyal Sky defender Wout Poels, this prize is all for you--but somehow I doubt you'll be claiming it!

Grinta Award: yes, Alberto fought his way through a !@#$ (no pun intended) day of stomach troubles, and still managed to attack every other day despite a team that, even with its bestest efforts, was completely outmatched by the androids at Sky. But y'know, this one's for the few--very few!--brave boys at Team Dimension Data, who were decimated nearly right off the bat by disgusting illness and injury and *still* schlepped on with only 3 boys standing, all the way to Madrid. Lachlan Morton, ex-Carrot Igor Anton, and Janse van Rensburg--step on up, if you remotely have the legs left to do it!

Crash o' the Race (Aw, Crap!): it was his first-ever solo stage in his first-ever Grand Tour. And with some crap luck, emerging talent UAE Team Emirates' Anass Ait El Abdia hit the deck, crashing out on stage two. The look on his face was particularly heartbreaking--but you earned your way to your first Grand Tour, there'll surely be more in your future!

Crash o' the Race (No !@#damn Impact At All): let's be honest--you could have Nacer Bouhanni riding next to Froome punching him in the face *all day* *every day*, and Chris Froome still couldn't crash long enough or hard enough to matter. I crashed and got a boo-boo? Big deal. I'm *still* gonna finish three minutes ahead of your !@#!

Passive-Aggressive Paranoid Conspiracy Theorist o' the Race: it's the biggest baddest climbing day yet, and Astana's incredibly detail-oriented professional mechanics "accidentally" left a rather crucial chainring off faded team captain Fabio Aru's bicycle. "!@#$ you" from Vino--or innocent mistake? Fabio--at least in the heat of disappointment, and before Vino beats it outta him--thinks the former. I'm sure it didn't *feel* innocent on that 28% gradient, anyhow!

Still Not a Grand Tour Award: oh, my darling Vuelta. So close--but 20 stages *not* too far. Thanks for the day race, but can we *please* give the women's peloton a little more road time?

Cult of Personality Prize: The howling, sobbing, shrieking mob of Alberto Contador fans, every single minute of every single day, before, up to, including, and far beyond his exhausted retreat into the team bus every evening. And who could blame them--well, us? Jaysus, I've seen Justin Bieber concerts with less bloodshed!

Field Art o' the Vuelta: now, we're all familiar with the standard aerial shots of hay-bale "WELCOME" signs, corn-field bicycle cutouts, and tractors slowly chasing each other with giant hood-mounted syringes--but what *really* stood out this year in both looks and ingenuity was the farmer who got his/her sheep into a humongous moving-bicycle display by spreading feed on the ground in the appropriate shape and releasing the herd to stampede for their dinners in perfect formation. A nice meal *and* a nice bike race--what's not to like?

Pointless Distraction Prize: HOLY CRAP WE'RE ABOUT TO FOLD THE TEAM FOR LACK OF A SPONSOR GIG! CROWDFUND US OR IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT YOU WORTHLESS FANS! Oh, wait--it's cool. We got it. Jonathan Vaughters, scare the !@#$ outta every single Uran Uran fan on Earth, whydontcha?--especially since it ultimately worked!

And Finally, Yer Dumb-!@# Move o' the 2017 Vuelta: for three freakin' weeks, you haul your saddle-sore !@# 200 miles across some of the most brutal terrain in Spain. And the very night before your chill slo-mo ceremonial parade into Madrid as a finisher of one of the greatest races in cycling's pantheon, whaddya do? Well, no-one's quite saying, but clearly something so beyond the bounds of normal pro-cyclist stupid--and that's saying a lot--that your own team pulls you outta the race the final morning. Drugs? Alcohol? A sex scandal beyond the usual Dekkerian-hooker hijinks? Only Odd Christian Eikhorn can tell--and he ain't, but kid, you can pick up yer prize anyway!

Well, that's our beloved Vuelta, done and dusted--in 2018, may the best robo--man win!

It's Yer 2017 Vuelta a Espana in Preview, Part Dos: The GC Contenders! #LV2017

First, of we still love so !@#$ the !@#$ off ex-Euskaltel rider Samuel Sanchez, to whom I was going to give a podium spot as well as a stage win (shut up! could so either! even without that peptide !@#$!), let me just say: Aiiigggggghhhhhhhhhhh! Second, give me that !@#damn whiskey bottle before I snatch it outta your !@#damn hand!

Okay, with that out of the way, time to get down to business (or pleasure): it's high time for the fabulous Vuelta, baby, so let's talk yer General Classification Contenders! Sure, there's only like 4--but this is the unpredictable and vicious Vuelta, and anything could still happen. My picks (and they're always wrong, so pro tip to place yer bets accordingly, especially if you'll share the proceeds):

Alberto Contador: It is unbe!@#damnlievable to me that, in the Sky/USPostal-reboot era, you would pony up for a rider like Alberto Contador and not spend the rest of your entire generous budget building an impenetrable and entirely single-minded mountains behemoth around him for the Grand Tours. But Trek, ya didn't. In his favor: it's his last race (waaaaaaah!), it's his home race (yay!), the course is perfect for a guy who lives to attack, and right now, his health is g--forget it, *I'm* not gonna be the freakin' eejit that jinxes 'im!

Chris Froome: It's just like the Tour de France, Chris, but without Mikel Landa being embarrassingly stronger than you and telling you to screw off! To his credit, the only rider in the entire peloton who could turn the most exciting mountain stages in all of cycling into a seven-hour death march of watching static on a TV screen. Now, that takes talent! Still and all, he's got humble--and incredibly talented--superdomestique Mikel Nieve (for the rest of this year, anyway!), as well as the usual raft of robot suspects, who seem to differ from the rest of their kind in their phenomenally lifelike ability to sweat, ingest food and water, and get tir--nope, they sure don't ever do that! A highly likely, if deeply vomitous, candidate for victory. But if you're gonna do that, can you at least show the *slightest* bit of panache and initiative and at least nominally try for a stage win? Nope, didn't think so, drone-boy!

Nairo Quintana: Just kidding! But Movistar's actually got a bangin' young lineup that can really do some damage, including Carlos Betancur. Oh come on! so long as he doesn't 'damage' the buffet too much he'll be fine. Maybe see you next year Nairo--if Landa doesn't crush you first!

Fabio Aru: Yes, he had a disappointing Tour. But he's bagged this hallowed race before, and now, he's had time to reflect, recharge, and most of all, get the crap beaten outta him by charming killer team boss Vinokourov. He's also got the incredibly versatile (and former Liberty Seguros Contador teammate!) Luis Leon Sanchez, and while LL Cool Sanchez never shies away from his own stage win, he's a good--and hardworking--guy to have at your side. Forza Fabio--just not quite enough to pass Alberto!

Vincenzo Nibali: He was 'only' third in the Giro this year, though he showed some serious signs of life late on. And when he's in health and on form, he's a formidable force. But our dear little Izagirre is out after his !@#$ crash at the !@#$ Tour, so he's gonna have to rely on other teams for both wheels and tactics. I'm rooting for you, Squalo--but yer even more hamstrung than Alberto, for heck's sake!

The Dark Horses: yeah, yeah, Yateses, but with Esteban Chaves to either support or contend with, there's a significant chance we love Orica will have to divvy up potential stage wins, or eat their own in pursuit of GC. And even Bardet isn't copping to anything more than some stage-hunting. But there's also Majka, and Tejay (oh BMC! I'm sure this is all your fault!), Kruijswijk, and Kelderman. Me, I look forward to their stage wins. Good luck guys--by the time the second week sinks in, you're sure as hell all gonna need it!

Well, there's yer quicky Vuelta a Espana GC In Preview--let's hope that stupid 40k flat tt doesn't kill the race, because in the Vuelta, that's what the mountains are for!

It's Yer Ultra-Compact (for racejunkie) Vuelta a Espana Rest Day Roundup 'n' Mountain-Hell Preview! #LV2015

Whew, that went by quick, especially if yer a moto driver runnin' like the wind ahead of a fire-spittin' Tinkov! So what'd'ja miss, and what're we in for tomorrow (today, whatever) as the race *really* gets underway? This!

Stage 1: Surfin' safari! Riders enjoy GC-neutralized party in the dunes as enraged Nibali blames sand up his hoo-ha for lackluster team Astana performance. It only gets better from here, Vincenzo!

Stage 2: Rocket man: in an extraordinary display of common sense, 2014 Tour de France champ Nibali is ejected from the race after Alexander Vinokourov launches him to the finish line from a trebuchet. Jaysus, didn't they teach you in cheat school to pull that !@#$ when the cameras are somewhere *else*?

Stage 3: The prodigal son returns! Bouncing back from a disastrous Classics season, Peter Sagan finally takes first--that's even better than second!--in a sprint. Guess who's Oleg's little favorite *now*, Alberto?

Stage 4: Cue the Boris Karloff music, honey--Valverde creeps us all out again with his first win o' the race. You got like *one* day to pull this guy back before you end up being his water-bottle beeyotch, Nairo!

Stage 5: He's off--Orica-Greenedge's young Caleb Ewan bags his first Grand Tour victory over John Degenkolb. Didja notice Greenedge was already wiping the floor with everyone so far this race?

Stage 6: Remember when Orica rammed its team bus under the finish-line banner at the Tour de France, causing hours of chaos and an eternity's worth of humiliation on YouTube? Well ram this, haters, because it's wee Esteban Chaves' *second* stage of the race, *and* he's back in red. How do you say "woot woot!" in Spanish again?

Stage 7: Dutch treat! A nice win for Lotto's Jan Lindeman, and, even more satisfying, Fabio Aru put the hurt on the infernally annoying Chris Froome as Tinkov breathes a sigh of relief that Sky hasn't totally humiliated him with a Grand Tour back-to-back win just yet. Take *that* Landa, who's team leader now?

Stage 8: Carnage, and there's no dressing this one up, so speedy recovery and sincere best wishes to all involved. Best off of the day, with just a pile o' skin 'n' shorts ripped off and a DNS the next morning--Peter Sagan, fined 300 euros for kicking the crap out of a medical support van and his own bike after being knocked off it by an eejit moto. And just when his curse seemed to be lifting!

Stage 9: Puritooooooooooooo! No, he didn't win, but again, Chris Froome didn't, and, as some small comfort for Rodriguez fans, at least a deceptively cooked Tom Dumoulin came back from the dead and took the win. Hey, isn't this guy like two feet too tall for a climber?

Stage 10: Calm before the storm! The sprinters get one last chance to play before the mountains really kick in, and while most of 'em have already either crashed or bailed out already, Rojas and even Degenkolb were caught out short by a smashing surge from we love MTN-Qhubeka's Sbaragli. So nice to see the unexpected grab the day!

Rest Day: I don't know what-all's been involved for the riders, except maybe staying locked in their hotel rooms studying the Stage 11 race profile and sobbing uncontrollably. What gears do you need for "totally !@#$ed", again?

Stage 11: you've seen the pic, you've read the previews, you've heard the screams from the team bus--it's 6 peaks o' Cat-1 and Hors Categorie agony, and with almost everybody still at least professing to be whacked out from the Tour, a comparatively well-rested Aru might yet have the legs to take some GC time on this one--if Mikel Landa, who had a surprisingly crap stage 9, has either the legs or the mindset to protect him. Oh, dammit, that freak Froomey's gonna get this, right? Dammit!

Well, riders, the GC officially starts now--first one who cracks gets a pony for a consolation prize!

It's Your Vuelta a Espana in Preview, Part Dos: the GC Contenders! #LV2015 #lavuelta

Oh yeah, it's only a few short days 'til the fabulous Vuelta, honey, and now that we've previewed the excruciating course, it's time for General Classification contenders that'll be takin' it on! And while the Tour is one nasty prologue for the flaming-hot, steeper'n hell painfest like the Vuelta, with pretty well all these guys similarly gobsmacked, that oughtn't be such a huge factor this year. Yer heroes:

1. Alberto Contador (Tinkoff-Saxo): WELL HE'D BE THERE BEATING ALL YOU COWARDLY WEAKLING WUSSBAGS IF ANY OF YOU'D'VE HAD HALF THE NUTS TO DO THE GIRO WITH 'IM FIRST SO GO TO HELL YOU GUTLESS !@#$IN' SHOWOFFS! AND SAGAN YOU BETTER PULL OFF AT LEAST A COUPLA STAGE WINS FOR ME TO SAVE THIS HUMILIATING !@#$-SHOW OF A SEASON! Oh, Oleg Tinkov, tell us how you *really* feel...

2. Chris Froo--ack! yaaaack! gaaccccckkkkk! arrrrghhhh!--me (Sky): yep, he won the freakin' Tour de France, beeyotches, with a freakishly mountain-goat contingent o' Classics riders to pace 'im, and now the smug little !@%# is back to show that, though the Giro-Tour double was arrogant and reckless as well as downright embarrassing, the Tour-Vuelta double is, for any real rider, a piece o' cake. So sorry you're not there for me to stomp on again, Alberto--I'll be sure to wave to you from the final podium in Madrid!

3. Tejay Van Garderen (BMC): Dang, he rode well and bravely at the Tour de France, didn't he? But whether his body can handle the stress 'n' strain of a 3-week two-fer, at the heights at which his impressive talent is capable, is a whole 'nother question. Still, he's got Samu. Stay strong, Tejay, and hopefully you can show 'em all in week 3!

4. Vincenzo Nibali and Fabio Aru (Astana): Oh, the pain of having to "share" team leadership at the Vuelta! Say what you will about Nibs, but even after his Tour de France GC hopes were obliterated, the man kept stubbornly riding as hard as he could--pure and unadulterated grinta. As for Aru, yeah, you rode a *really* nice Giro with ex-Carrot Mikel Landa's monster aid--but remember your place, rugrat, your time is coming soon anyhow!

5. Nairo Quintana and Alejandro Valverde (Movistar): Oh, the pain of having to "share" team leadership at the Vuelta! But at least with Movistar it's because Nairo--and miraculously, even the dependably self-destructive Valverde--completely kicked !@#. So lay off Nairo if he falters, which he won't--the poor wee thing is probably *tired* for heck's sake!

6. Purito Rodriguez (Katusha): As the GC plans of the "fabulous five" imploded around him, Purito kept his cool, and took *two* smashing stage win at the Tour. But for my money, and despite his nearly Hornerish advanced age, the starkly beautiful Vuelta is the race for him, and now is his time. Shut up, go to hell, will so too either!

Yes, there's others. And the Vuelta being the Vuelta, I'm sure I'll be proved mortifyingly wrong. But even the GC contenders ain't all the action for this phenomenal race--next up in preview: the climbers, the sprinters, and all the other stuff to see!

It's the 2015 Giro d'Italia Racejunkie Awards! #giro

Yes, the champagne's been popped, the statue's been kissed, and Oleg Tinkov's already flown in a crack team of Russian hairstylists to consult on dyeing his 'do the exact shade of Tour de France maillot jaune in July, but in the meantime, as we all sleep off our post-Giro hangovers and general mourning lethargy, it's time for the incredibly prestigious and like-2-dear-readers'-renowned 2015 Giro d'Italia Racejunkie Awards! Prizes: eternal glory, a lifetime of notoriety and/or humiliation on the Internets, and hell, I'll throw in a spiffy free embroidered racejunkie cap to the first fool who claims his prize! Ergo, without further ado:

Marginal Gains Award: So Team Sky, in an orgy of anal-retentive overanalysis, sticks its pressure-cookered GC contender Richie Porte into a slick new one-man team bus, replete with the latest appliances, heated massage table, custom mattress, and a veritable fleet of minions inquiring anxiously after his every petty need. Given how well *that* worked out, Sky is now reportedly going to give this rolling Ritz-Carlton to their slowest, crappiest rider, who will, if logic follows, win the upcoming Tour de France. Don't worry Richie--I'm sure they'll let you snarf down whatever dregs are left in the coffee maker for one last breakfast!

Punk-!@# Move of the Race (Riders): Astana's stage 16 attack on Contador after his flat tire on Aprica. Response: all in the legs, as a distinctly-ticked Alberto ran down every last one of those bastards except stage winner Landa like a twee scrawny tank. You've been *schooled*, beeyotches!

Punk-@!# Move of the Race (Race Organizers): penalizing Richie Porte 2 freakin' minutes for unthinkingly accepting a friendly wheel exchange from fellow Aussie good-guy/Orica-Greenedge rival squad rider Simon Clarke. Sure, the way he imploded, it was the least of the poor guy's problems anyway, but still--psych Porte out *completely* whydontcha?

Don't Mess With the Contador Award: right right, all that attacky crap on the Aprica and Mortirolo. No, this is to the eejit who, stages after some numbnut with a camera crashed an innocent rider outta the race and crushed his entire season's work with it, thought it was a great !@#$in' idea to shove a selfie stick right into Contador's line on a climb. His cool response? WHAMMO--problem solved!

Poltergeist Prize: holy !@#$, what *was* that thing? No no, it was only in my visual range for a split second, must've been an illusion. Team Tinkoff-Saxo. Yeah, yeah, tactics. Where the hell *were* those guys when Contador was isolated in a sea of turquoise blue from 3 meters into every climb?

Crash o' the Race (Numbnut Spectator Edition): I get it. You want the shot. But the !@#$in' riders want to stay in one piece, dumb!@#, and sticking a really long camera lens out into the peloton on Stage 6 in the mad rush to the finish line isn't going to help them do that. Worse, it jacked the entirely innocent Daniele Colli with an excruciating injury and nearly took Alberto Contador outta the race. Go to hell, idiot, and next year, back the !@#$ off!

Crash o' the Race (!@#$wad Spectator Edition): ever wanted to experience the adrenaline, the pain, the sheer exhilaration of driving along with the speeding peloton, fulfilling a lifelong dream of ineffable joy? Well *don't*, assclown, because you're completely unqualified to do it! Yep, the astonishingly selfish and stupid fixie-riding poser who actually leapt into the race--and promptly brought half of it down, including unfortunate abandon Pieter Serry. And you *wonder* why everyone hates these guys?

Crash o' the Race (GC Disaster Edition): y'know, for a normal rider--even assuming the freakish masochism level perversely enjoyed by yer average pro--snapping yer shoulder out of its socket twice would tend to have somewhat negative consequences on one's ability to continue to ride, much less win, the race. For Alberto Contador, it means a piece o' tape and certain victory. Damn, can you imagine the gap to 2nd place if this little robot had been *healthy*?

Crash o' the Race (Pass-Out Gnarliness Edition): yes, it's a grim two-fer: I am no student of anatomy, but I am pretty sure that no human arm is supposed to turn like this. JAYSUS, Daniele Colli--please, please get well soon!

Garish Publicity Slut Statuette: is this even a contest? Prosecco-swilling podium-hogging maglia-rosa-upstaging Oleg Tinkoff, this embarassing win's for you!

Froome-Wiggins Memorial Bushwhacking Award: oh, dear little ex-Carrot Mikel Landa. Without you, Fabio Aru would've been toast--but with you, even Italy's new Grand Tour darling was in serious danger of being outshone. You better *hope* whatever team you're looking for that giant contract next year doesn't already have a GC contender who's gonna preemptively slash your tires every morning at the start line!

Total Outrage of the Giro: look, Alberto Contador's interesting and all, but let's face it--a Giro without Pippo Pozzato is like a prosciutto without di Parma. So *what* if he wouldn't've won a stage, or hell, be all that useful to Lampre? He'd definitely make it both way prettier and suave-ier--Free Pippo 2016!

Imminent Midnight Drug-Bust Swat Team Prize: You know I love you, Vino. But *5* stage wins? *2* podium places? A leg-locked pack of futuristic sci-fi skinsuited androids pulling a USPostal slaughterfest at the front for 6 hours a day, while you just clutched onto your license to ride by the skin of your teeth? I don't care if you're feeding these nice honest boys Pixy Stix for energy, you are *asking* for 24/7 surveillance and constant medically-intrusive doping controls! Oh, just let *one* of your guys get spit out the back *one* day each Grand Tour, at least the UCI'll be able to save some face...

Unsung Victory o' the Race: Remember brilliant Colombian climber/Tour de France King of the Mountains Mauricio Soler, who suffered a horrific crash and career-ending traumatic brain injury in a crash at the 2011 Tour de Suisse? Well here he is with maglia rosa Contador. Forza campione, sei un grande!

Sissy-Team-Boss Slap-Fight Award: so whose fault *are* all those crashes in the peloton? Well, if you're blowhard BMC king Jim Ochowicz, it's the uncoordinated nimrod second-rate crap-squad Pro Continental riders, the whole lot of whom should be kept out of the races with the *real* riders. If you're Pro Conti Androni-Sidermec team leader Gianni Savio, it's a moot point, because you're an !@#hole. Now apologize to your little friend, Ochowicz, and go play nice together from now on!

Now *That's* A Fine Worth Getting Award: you think the *winner* of the Giro d'Italia is a good rider? Well, the *last* rider on GC in the Giro d'Italia--who finished an impressive 6 hours 40 minutes and 13 seconds down on Contador--can *still* kick yer mere-mortal club-rider gel-suckin' wannabe !@#. TrekFactory Racing's Marco Coledan, chillin' on the roadside on the peak of the Sestriere the penultimate day 'til his maglia nera is assured and proudly eating the 500 euro fine. No smug little jerk's gonna not beat *me* this Giro!

Well, them's my ratings-busting award show--congratulations--or shame on you!--to the honorees, and don't try these disgusting shenanigans again next year!

Blood Feuds! Bike Doping! Crazy-!$% Bosses!: The Giro Thunders On #giro

Grudge Match: sure, he coulda--and shoulda--saved a little energy for, maybe, the Tour de France he's about to do in a state of total catastrophic exhaustion against 3 major (4 major, if you count on Valverde creeping everyone out again, which he will) GC contenders who'll be fresh as a daisy in July, but far be it from Oleg Tinkov for yesterday's humiliating blow-by of Astana on the Mortirolo to be enough public shaming for the previous' day's cheap-shot, 'cause Contador's needlessly attacked *again* on the day's only real climb, this time being magnanimous enough to let the breakaway have its glory (woot woot, PhilGil *again*!), but not so magnanimous as to not gack Aru *and* Landa out the back some like some toothless inbred baseball player's disgusting tobacco-chaw spit-wad. Damn, Oleg, about time to quit whining about other squads' tactics, ya think? Next payback: Tinkov lets a paper bag o' fightin-mad venomous fire ants loose in Mikel Landa's gym bag. Whoa, hope you decide to wear yesterday's sweaty bib short instead, Mikel--and that Tinkov, you use some of that dough you won't be "wasting" on Sagan to pay someone enough to keep a damn good eye on Alberto's gear the next few days!

"Dope" Is Right: over on Planet Random Target, the UCI's wisely marshalled it's anti-cheating resourecs against Ryder "!@#$, Did *I* Just Win Two Humongous Back-to-Back Mountain Stages?" Hesjedal, testing his bike for illicit motor-assists on the grounds that, y'know, he didn't drop outta the race crying when his GC went south and has kept on working really hard to win a stage. What, no razzle-dazzle, no showmanship, just a quiet day by day march up the GC? 'E's a witch! A witch I tells ya! Off with his 'ead!

Tomorrow: it's a relaxing 236k, 3-cat-1s slog to Cervinia before Saturday's spectacular, and potentially disastrous, dirt roads of the Colle delle Finestre. One puncture, and we know what *these* ill-bred clowns are gonna do--and it ain't gonna be handing a needy fellow countryman a wheel unless it's a hard whack over the head with it!

And *That's* What Happens When You Attack Like a Punk, Punk! #giro

Straight Outta Chaingate: yep, in an early contender for the 2015 Racejunkie Awards Punk-!@# Move o' the Year, Astana decided to match Katusha's blistering pace and wankily attacked Alberto Contador hard just as he was grabbing a back wheel from Ivan Basso after a crap-timed flat, which, after a desperate chase which left Contador's teammates gasping in the autobus two feet up the Mortirolo, was roundly repaid when an enraged Pistolero dope-smacked every rider between him and the front of the race on the way to bypassing Aru, at which point previous stage winner/ex-Carrot Mikel Landa--or more likely his soulless boss Vinokourov--decided to say screw you to his anointed team leader and spit wee Fabio out the back as well, only to have Fabio implode even further with his own unfortunate mechanical and bike change and no damn slowdown for him either, the punk! Jaysus, can *anyone* keep track of who's bushwhacking who in this race? Still, Fabio continues to get massive points in my book because (1) he's still very young, and I distinctly remember baby savant Contador being a bit of a tactical eejit in his own day and (2) no matter how he feels about his ignominious ejection from team leadership, he refuses to say anything the least bit indiscreet about his apparently-former domestique Landa or the management. Meantime, the Twitsphere of course has been going nuts debating--in all caps at one point, so like, you *know* it's getting vicious!--the finer points of the unwritten rules of Grand Tour behavior, with the groups rather split between "this is an outrage to good manners! now bring me my tea and crumpets Jeeves before the rabble really bust down the manor doors!" and "this is a damn competition, you effete weenies, Hulk SMASH!" Big winner on the day, even if he didn't quite win on the road: former Giro !@#damn champion Ryder Hesjedal, who did let slip he was aggravated as hell at Tinkoff-Saxo for not letting him up the road to likely victory in the first place before the whole Mortirolo catastrophe even happened, but frankly, puts Richie Porte and everyone else who bailed out of a clearly unwinnable race to shame. Forza Ryder--and Alberto, I know Oleg's gonna make you grab one or else, but next time, let him off the leash for a stage win!

PS Tifosi Etiquette Reminder: *don't* dress like some weird creepy pervert alien ant in a completely incongruous superhero cape and get in the riders' lines at a crucial tactical moment--Alberto, *no-one* would've blamed you if you'd slugged that guy!

Team Tactics! Wuss-Outs! Narc Bait!: It's Yer Giro d'Italia Rest Day Due Roundup! #giro

Porte Hole: look, I don't doubt that Richie Porte is a dedicated, hardworking guy. I also don't doubt that somewhere, Chris Froome is dancing an absolute polka at the realization that, despite Richie's early-race brag-fest, Porte now has no standing whatsoever to try to bushwhack Froomey, as Chris did so indelicately with his own team leader Wiggo a few years back, come July. But when your own DS is blasting your half-hearted excuse about a sore knee by saying that no, in fact it's yer head, and your own loyal domestiques are equivocating that they're not sure what the problem is and you'd better ask the race-whacked boy himself--added to Rigoberto Uran's shrugging off his own start-line bronchitis and nasty fall and deciding to battle on while the hugely-ahead maglia rosa sucked up a twice-separated shoulder and bashed legs and a smacked knee for !@#$'s sake--what *is* clear is that no matter how much pain you're certainly genuinely in or what incredibly disgusting virus you're now going to be diagnosed with, you're gonna look like a colossal whining, well, soccer player if you don't suck it up and honor the damn race you proclaimed your own obvious supremacy in by at least battling back as best you can til the final day you can slink back into whatever crap fuel-leaking rustbucket they're gonna let you ride in once they've taken your one-man rolling palace away. *Geez*, Porte, don't you owe it to your teammates to stay in and support your GC replacement Konig--if you're lucky, they won't even stuff you in the luggage compartment!

Tag Teams: meanwhile, though I normally hold Oleg Tinkov and Alexander Vinokourov about equal in the total raging nutjob department, I gotta say, while Oleg clearly can't shut the !@#$ up and quit openly smirking at whatever remains of Contador's competition--and anything can still happen, especially in this crazy race--at least he's being a hell of a lot more discreet than Vinokourov, having the sense to let Alberto's go-to guys visibly crack for the cameras while Vino's entire crew tick-tick-ticks away at the front of every monster climb as relentlessly as the worst days of Armstrong's motorized Stepford-domestique autobots. What the *hell*, Vino, of course ex-Euskie Mikel is completely pure, but you *did* just get threatened with the loss of your WorldTour license by the cowering impotent cycling authorities, don't you think it'd look a *little* bit less suspect now if you just ran 10 kilometers of plastic tubing directly from a cooler in backseat of the team car into the !@#es of their bib shorts? Still, to Aru's credit, he remains ever the gentleman, letting Landa off the leash when it was clear he could at least manage to glom onto Contador's wheel, pointing out Contador's relative weakness to his own teammate, and fully backing Mikel's taking off to grab the win. You could take serious deportment lessons from this kid, Oleg--if anything else should unexpectedly go wrong with *his* Giro, at least he won't have looked like a jerkface! Here, after a race moto totally jacks poor Atapuma, and despite an agonizingly brave surge by a then-heartbroken Trofimov, another darling former Carrot nails the Giro stage: PS Holy crap nice run there Hesjedal!

Next Up: an utterly sadistic post-rest-day crushfest, with the Passos Tonale and Mortirolo, and *two* climbs to Aprica. Enjoy, wee climbing glory-hunters and GC contenders--if even *you* guys don't run home crying by the end of the day!

Curses! Crashes! GC Psych-Outs! The Real Race Still Begins Now #giro

Not Quite Yet, Oleg!: yes, a mere day after braggart wingnut Tinkoff-Saxo team boss Oleg Tinkov horridly jinxed Giro-Tour double hopeful Alberto Contador by tweeting mid-stage he saw no reason Contador shouldn't win the TT today--thereby, of course, making Contador lose his first-ever mid-race leader's jersey to a still-bonking Aru by crashing just outside the 3k mark--Contador appears to have shaken it, *and* his change in time trial position *and* his bashed legs *and* his twice-popped shoulder *and* Oleg meanly making him have a roommate like a commoner--off pretty well, coming in third after LL Cool Sanchez and, more importantly, obliterating Porte Aru and even Uran to the tune of serious time on GC the day before the first real decisive mountain stage to Madonna di Campiglio. Just keep yer yap shut, Oleg, you clearly almost screwed over Alberto completely yesterday, and anything can still happen in this slippery nail-biter Giro! Meantime, poor Porte's premature assertions of total domination and likely bushwhack challenge to Froomey at the Tour this year are now apparently in the tank, with his irate less-pampered teammates already having toilet-papered his posh personal team bus in vengeance and installed Vasil Kiryienka (for whom Oleg *just* took personal credit on twitter, pointing out he offered him his first pro contract in 2006) in Porte's silk-sheeted sanctuary instead. Oh, Richie, *don't* make us have to root for *you* now with all the crap luck and clear crushing disappointment you've had--after all, it would hardly be sporting to mock this 'marginal gains' bull!@#$ anymore with you in this sad state!

Oh, It's Still On, Baby!: still, despite the grim statistics, the remaining GC contender(s) aren't giving up: to his credit, Fabio Aru was gracious in complimenting Contador for his triumph, also thanking the fans and promising serious fireworks on the road to Sestriere. Hey, Pistolero, if you've got the time on 'im, why not be a gentleman and let Aru take a stage win to go with his young-rider's jersey? Tomorrow: and you thought *today* hurt? Oh, the hell with the GC, go Mikel and Benat--our dear ex-Carrots are doing *so* great this race!

It's Yer Giro d'Italia Rest Day Uno Roundup!: Smack-Talk! GC Hijinks! Extra Etiquette Tips! #giro

To Sleep, Perchance to Psych Out Your Opponents: yes, with a relaxing day of massage, light riding, and fleeing in terror from Tinkov's raging angry goons, the GC contenders have taken time out to scare the bejeezus outta each other, with Contador proclaiming optimism he can save his shoulder and his podium by slightly tweaking his preferred time trial position and taking a pile of ibuprofen, Aru showing how relaxed he really is about potentially getting popped for his wholly genuine dysentery and coincidentally useful sudden weight-loss by officially suing Greg Henderson for the latter's calling BS on Fabio's bio passport, Uran set on recovering from a disastrous 52-second time suck, and Richie Porte--well, apparently he's too busy being waved at with cooling palm leaves and being served dainty bon-bons by minions in his one-man traveling palace to engage with the press, his DS, or his teammates. Watch out in July, Froomey, I think the karma you gathered bushwhacking Wiggo is coming back to bite your !@#! with this guy! Anyway, for my money, the real concern for GC is the team strength--either Tinkoff, easily the best on paper, is wisely holding back until the final week, or Astana's gonna continue to inexplicably crush them and leave Alberto isolated and he'll just have to hide from Oleg 'til the Tour. Don't give up Rigo, anything can still happen--don't that little twerp Aru's legs have to have a bad day *sometime*?

The Empire Strikes Back: meantime, over at the just-finished Amgen EPO Tour of California, lovable if terrifyingly bat-!@#$ megalomaniac Tinkoff-Saxo overlord Oleg Tinkov has not only expressed his keen interest in slashing dead-weight loser Peter Sagan's excessive salary--which seems a little, well, untimely since the kid *just* got his decimated mojo back winning 2 stages & the overall, which if nothing else shows the beneficial effects of being a giant ocean and huge continent away from his vindictive nutwhack team boss--but (1) sez it's true disgraced team founder Bjarne Riis was fired in part for watching "West Wing" reruns during major races (2) indicated Contador should be winning all *three* Grand Tours in one season, not just two like some quivering wuss and (3) suggested he'll either personally torture 20-odd innocent riders for the next 15 years with his hands-on-and-heads-off management style, or bail entirely on the team next summer just in time to reward them for their efforts by screwing them too late into contract season to find another squad. Thanks for the pep talk, Oleg! Alberto, I know yer signed til 2016, but at least heal up enough to grab yer cellphone, call yer agent, and get the hell outta there, *fast*!

Spectator Etiquette, Version 2.0!: and, with deepest apologies to the clueless for having left out a few key etiquette tips in my last Handy Q&A Guide To Stupid Crap Tifosi Have Actually Done, I add:

Q: Can I try to scare the hell outta the riders by pinging them with my pellet gun?
A: No, what are you, some spy-movie stealth-ninja wannabe you !@#$in' sociopath? Plus, you could put an eye out with that thing!

Q: I'm, like, really extreme. Can I jump over the passing peloton with my mountain bike?
A: It may look cool on Youtube, jack!@#, but can you *imagine* with your primitive thrill-seeking brain the bloody freakin' carnage of an eejit attached to a buncha prickly bike parts landing on 15 guys going 40 miles an hour from 10 feet up like a flailing swearing ton of bricks? NO. Jump off a cliff when the road's empty so you only impale yourself, blockhead!

Q: These stupid riders are totally in my way. Can I ram them with my automobile and throw them into a ditch/the fans/an excruciating pile of deadly razor wire?
A: Jaysus, NO. Plus, next clown to pull that !@#$ gets their license revoked *and* an epic personal beatdown by the offended rider's mom.

Q: The race is over already. Can I insert my radical political cause into the entirely unrelated podium ceremony?
A: No. It'll only make (1) everyone hate you *and* your cause and (2) Bernard Hinault dive-bomb onto you like an avenging cycling superhero and break every bone in your body. But you can, for example, protest by parking your tractor alongside the course. Everyone likes tractors!

Well, fellow tifosi, this concludes your lesson, so if I missed anything, just *try* not to think up something too stupid. Tomorrow: a six-hours-o'-nothin'-and-two-kilometers-o'-fear sprint stage. So GC contenders, stay outta trouble, and fans, remember to play nice--you do *not* want to piss off a guy the size of Andre Greipel!

G-1, Baby: It's Yer Giro d'Italia In Preview Part Tre, The Climbers and Hot-Gossip Roundup! #Giro

Woot woot!: yes, after 11 months of lonesome agony, the smashing Giro d'Italia is back, and with just one day til the GC contenders find out whose lumpen teammates screwed 'em in the team time trial already, it's time for our last preview! Who's left to cover: the climbers, the assorted stage fighters, and of course yer random slimy hot-gossip smack-talk roundup! The score:

The Climbers: sure, Movistar's saving Valverde to back-stab Quintana at the first sign of any weakness at the Tour de France, but even better, they Sky and even Astana've brought half of Euskaltel with 'em, and while Porte Alberto Uran and Aru are keeping their eyes and wheels locked on each other, this leaves a blazin' field of ex-Carrots free to do what they do best, unleash the pain on every damn climb from the Mortirolo to Sestriere. Vai vai Mikels Landa and Nieve, Benat Intxausti, Igor Anton, and Ion Izagirre! Oughta win *some* kinda stage *somewhere* after all that hype then his disastrous 2014: Carlos "!@#$ Off Comparing Me to Quintana Already!" Betancur.

The Sprinters: look, it's the Giro dammit, so who gives? But still, it's all about Andre "the Gorilla" Greipel, whose main competition is either at the Amgen EPO Tour of California (Cav) or felled by some strength-sapping virus and desperately trying to come back for the Tour (Kittel). Me, I'm calling we love Tom Boonen, whose recent dislike for the argy-bargy of his youth is outweighed by the motivator that his Classics campaign was completely !@#$ed, sentimental fave Ale-Jet "Wheezy" Petacchi, back for one more round with the podium babes, and, because he's also an ex-Euskie, surprise flatlander hit Juan Jose Lobato. Gorilla, you got *no* excuses if you blow this!

The Puncheurs: they're called "puncheurs" because if you !@#$ around and blow the breakaway in the last two kilometers, they'll punch you in the face. Also, they have a lotta power outta seemingly nowhere, and a distinct penchant for spoiling everyone's else's fun. We love Philippe Gilbert, who so fiercely and famously faced off with a giant crash-causing dog and his child charge some time back; "Bling" Matthews, who looked so dashing in pink lo those many days last year; Sylvain Chavanel (shut up! can so either!), Luca "the Beard" Paolini, and Simon Gerrans. Come on Chava--we know damn well you still got it!

The Latest: finally, I'd be wholly remiss if I didn't remind my loyal reader(s) that: (1) Reigning Tinkoff-Saxo megalomaniac Oleg Tinkov says if Alberto Contador doesn't win this thing in his sleep, he's a hopeless weakling weenie; (2) he'd win it himself if his damn knee hadn't been bothering him, but it's still strong enough to kick Berto's butt off Aprica if he don't save Oleg's ego; (3) no less a cycling god than Bernard Hinault says Alberto can do the Giro-Tour double, so no pressure if you prove *him* wrong; and (3) Tinkoff-Saxo have, in addition to a video of comely two-time champ Ivan Basso's plan for victory, released this *hugely* intimidating photograph of an intently-focused Giro squad absolultey *smoking* a woman riding home with her groceries. Beat *that*, Aru you poser pretender wannabe!

It's Yer Giro d'Italia In Preview, Part Due: The GC Contenders! #giro

Oh yeah, baby, it's three days and counting down to the smashing Giro d'Italia, the bitchinest race (along with the Vuelta) of the year! And yes, those vultures Froome, Quintana, and Nibali *are* bagging the Giro in hopes that the ultracompetitive Contador'll blow his legs out in this one and leave him gobsmacked--or at least slightly less supernatural--for his run at the second half of the mythical Giro-Tour double, but there's still plenty of other GC action to be found this May. Who? These guys--and their jerseys so you can tell who's who from the helicopter shot, to boot!

Alberto Contador: yep, he's been training at altitude, virtually unseen for months, and his form is, consequently, rather a mystery. But Oleg Tinkov is *not* bull!@#$ting around, and he's packed Alberto's Giro squad with experienced two-time Giro-winnin' slickster Ivan Basso, the explosive if intermittently erratic Roman "Please Don't Let Him Get Popped Again" Kreuziger and Mick "Holy !@#$ Did You See This Guy Last Year?" Rogers. Only downside: he needs these guys in July, especially to make up for whatever Oleg decides to squander on Peter Sagan's green jersey plans, so they gotta leave *something* left in the tank. But with some real heavyweights out of the GC race, will that even matter? Forza Alberto--this is yours to lose, and if you want to make your irritable team boss happy, you damn well better not!

Richie Porte: y'know who's actually been taking win after win this year? Yes, it's crappy to compare 'im to a recently-healed Contador, but this guy has been bringing home the *bacon*, honey. And without having to worry about herding Froomey around--or even just dodging to stay out the way of Froome's ever-flailing limbs--if he can keep his cool and not have a disastrous crack, he's a known--and virtually proven--quantity. Downside: with all that hype, he's gonna be marked almost as much--even more--than Contador. I'm sure with the slick black team kit no-one'll notice you, Richie!

Rigoberto Uran: he's got a bangin' pink-skull clothing line, a suave nickname, some damn good legs, intimate familiarity with the Giro podium, and, on a completely irrelevant note, we love Tom Boonen this year--but Uran hasn't pulled off his Grand Tour overall win yet. On the plus side, his hairdo of late has knocked even Marcel Kittel off his perch. Lookin' good Rigo!

Fabio Aru: apparently, you can't say anything bad--or at least preemptively slanderous--about this guy or he'll get all prickly and sue. Ergo, even though he actually hasn't won a Grand Tour yet, he's my first choice for top of the podium, and I hear he only eats wholesome whole grains, lean cuts of organic untainted meat, and legitimately purchased all-natural sports drinks. Furthermore, his team kit is made of earth-friendly undyed hemp, he's nice to puppies, and he calls his DS promptly every night at 9 p.m. to wish him good night and sweet dreams and to ask if the nar--uh, to wish him good night and sweet dreams. Wait, what the !@#$ is this about? oh right, he's got a pretty impressive young palmares too. Good luck Fabio--Nibali sure made it clear he wasn't gonna save your !@# by riding this race for you! Wait, wrong Fabio!

Ryder Hesjedal: am I the only one who counts this former Giro d'Italia champ in with the big boys, and if so, why the hell? Besides Alberto, the only one with the final maglia rosa, and the iconic spiral trophy, to his credit. Oh, stuff it, he can so too either--remember this, suckers?

Well, there's the top five (yeah, I *know* what everyone's been whining about the rest of the field)--good luck to the lot of you, and stay the hell on Aru's good side!

It's Yer 2015 Giro d'Italia in Preview: The Course!

Oh yeah, it's Grand Tour season at last, baby--and what better way to kick it off than with the insanely beautiful--and grossly underappreciated--Giro d'Italia! So before we get to the contenders--and yap, Alpe d'Huez, yap, it will so too be better than the Tour de France no matter who's riding it--what've these poor saps got in store for the next 21 days once they set off from San Lorenzo al Mare? This!

Stage 1: Yep, let's get our first boy into pink--it's the team time trial, honey! 17.7 k of pretty darn flat twitchy-as-hell first-day legs.

Stage 2: Sprintfest! I know, Tommeke's just coming back and this isn't his race, and Petacchi's, well, still about a hundred years younger than Davide Rebellin, but half the other fast-men have been felled by viruses this year, and these guys have got something to prove. Plus, in Ale-Jet's sunset Giro, the scene of so many of his triumphs, he'll be keen to at least be in the mix. So even if the Gorilla does get it, forza both of 'em--if not this day, then soon!

Stage 3: time to stretch the legs on the uphills before a flat flat finish. First GC contender to look weak gets mercilessly abused in the press the next three weeks!

Stage 4: Up and down again, and again, a flat end to the day. Puncheurs, unite!

Stage 5: Officially again, a "medium mountain" stage, but the first of the uphill finishes. Aru, if you haven't already been po--uh, aren't quite feeling your best yet, this is a nice place to show off!

Stages 6 and 7: Whew! More playgrounds for the sprinters. Enjoy 'em while they last, Greipel--or before the mountains kick your !@# out the race!

Stage 8 and 9: up we go! A steep schlep then slight whip down on stage 8, then a roller-coaster of a stage 9. Next up: rest day, thank God!

Stage 10: the GC contenders just have to stay the hell outta the way as the fast-men enjoy another chance to shine. But the pain is coming gentlemen, it's coming!

Stage 11: rather lumpy, but fundamentally harmless. Stage 12: flat most of the way, then a coupla big bumps and an uphill slog to the finish. Keep your cool, Aru!

Stage 13: !@#$, where are the mountains already?

Stage 14: Damn, a 59.4k individual time trial! Any bets on who gets hosed the worst?

Stage 15: The GC battle really begins! After the Passo Daone takes a serious 14% nip at the legs, the top of the Madonna di Campiglio will either bring Alberto Contador hope and glory, or a post-race team-bus !@#-whuppin' for the ages. Next up, it's the second and final rest day--as we all start to seriously contemplate, so is this "Giro-Tour Double" bull!@#$, or not?

Stage 16: ow ow ow ow ow! It's the fearsome Mortirolo with maximum agony of 18 !@#$in' percent--but that's not even the end of it! If Porte can hold it to Aprica, and get over that little matter of the 15% hump up the way, he's looking good for overall. But maybe not so good as Contador!

Stage 17: Any o' you sprinters left? Here's your reward--you won't be feeling half so great tomorrow!

Stage 18: On the plus side, it's pretty nice and flat at the end. Like anyone will have enough energy to notice!

Stage 19: Screwed on GC, but hoping for a game-changing--and stupidly unmarked--flash of brilliance, or at least a face-saving stage win from yer humiliating time trial? Cervinia's your chance--good luck with that!

Stage 20: D'oh! It's the Col delle Finestre, on the way to Sestriere. Has Contador still got it, or has the turmoil in Tinkov's house taken its toll on his resident GC superstar too? Is finally Porte going to grow into the hype? Or is an ex-Euskaltel rider going to make me not give a crap anyway? Yep, woot woot ex-Carrots!

Stage 21: finally, as the overall winner takes his chill victory lap--and it better be Contador, or it sure won't be chill with Tinkov following him in the team car screaming for 6 straight hours--everyone but the sprint lead-outs can just concentrate on staying upright and mercifully crossing the finish line in more or less one piece. Oh, come on, even if it's a bull!@#$ giveaway, like you don't think this'd be a nice goodbye for Petacchi!

And here, the entire course, with techno music--next up, our GC Contenders, and yes there are and no I haven't forgotten the other guys!

It's Yer Vuelta a Espana in Preview, Part Dos: the Climbers! And, Yer Doping Excuse o' the Year

It's V-3, Beeyotches! yep, it's only a few short days to the fabulous Vuelta, and besides the GC boys we covered already in yer Preview Part Uno, there's some smashing climbers on tap who, once their work for their captains is done, are sure to be let go to grab some high-stakes high-altitude glory. And, of course, like half of 'em are former Euskaltel (oh Euskaltel!) Yer guys:

Fabio Aru: like you thought he was gonna be 3rd at the Giro this year! He nailed a stage win, too, and he's had time to rest up and train for this Vuelta. Expecting big things from this guy!

Rigoberto Uran: Yes, he does other stuff too. But one can fairly say he's not too shabby, and OPQS's all-in with him as captain. Plus, his personal-brand t-shirts are *wicked.* Go Rigo Go!

Gorka Izagirre (Movistar): yep, ex-Euskie, and he's certainly got a big enough job supporting Nairo Quintana 'n' Alejandro Valverde for Movistar. Let him off the leash though and he's a smashing climber in his own right. Aupa Euskalteeeeeeeee--aw, crap, I mean Movistar!

Carlos Betancur (AG2R): oh, sure, he's got a rep for being a little, well, difficult, and Velonews just basically called him a doughboy--but he's still more than capable, and if AG2R can thwap him out of his complacency, we may see something very special. And damn, lay off the junk food, the team needs you at fighting weight--hey, if Horner can do it, you can too!

Thibaut Pinot (FDJ): yeah, I had no idea he could podium at a Grand Tour either--but apparently *he* did. Tour de France white jersey; 7th at last year's Vuelta. Clearly a boy to watch for the future--and the next few weeks!

Mikel Landa: uh-huh, another ex-Carrot! I'm just gonna stop repeating it. But he is openly looking for a stage win--let's just hope he gets it.

Well, along with Amets Txurruka, and Dani Moreno and Dani Novarro, and I can't say Samu because I already put him in with GC (can so either!), them's my big picks. May the best climber(s) win--or at least not be so totally beholden to a GC captain that they get at least a day's worth of a shot! Next up: the sprinters, and everyone else we're just plain happy to see in the phenomenal Vuelta!



P.S. And the Golden Syringe Goes To...Jonathan Tiernan-Locke, for saying the reason his bio-passport readings made him look like a drug-stuffed thoroughbred-Armstrong hybrid mutant freak was because he was just completely blotto and dehydrated after a major drinking binge the night before. Not quite as good as Bjorn Leukemans' ol' "I Just Finished Doing My Girlfriend" defense (who just won a race today btw!), but we'll take it--meantime, have some Tylenol for that hangover, and we'll see you in 2 years pending appeals, champ!