Breathe In, Breathe Out: yep, just as I was thinkin' as how that Froomey was lookin' pretty damn good today towing a helpless Contador up the mountain and *still* having the energy to drop 'im in the finale at the Dauphine, comes our first official scandal of the Tour de France: Chris was caught huffing on an inhaler totally coincidentally right when he happened to be trying to win a mountain stage. Geez, think how that spindly freak's gonna ride when he's feeling *well* for a change! Still, apparently it's all cool with UCI--and I'm pretty sure I was hearing crickets chirping from the general direction of the peloton, so who are we to question?
Remember How "Jaws" Ended?: yeah, in a big gory mushroom cloud o' shark-guts, which is what Astana team boss/lovably egomaniacal sociopath Alexandre Vinokourov is gonna do to Vincenzo "lo Squalo" Nibali if he doesn't at least start showing enough pre-Tour form to worry his rivals this week, since Vino already wrote a very firm letter ripping his squad for crap results before Nibali popped today. Boys, I know Nibs was saying it was all good after the race, but really, I think this is the start and end of Vino's pep talk--the next one you get is gonna be yer feet sunk in a tub o' quick-set concrete, so start turning those damn pedals while you still can for heck's sake!
Out With the Old, In With the New: finally, former Lance Armstrong heir apparent/2x Giro champ Ivan Basso, who had a distinctly lackluster Giro despite a heartwarming attack or two, is apparently done with the Grand Tours that once seemed like his birthright--he won't be riding the Tour de France or the Vuelta a Espana, at least not for Cannondale this year. Y'know, remembering the coolly unapproachable "extraterrestri" Top Gun who posed shirtless for Gazzetta dello Sport and beat down an outraged we love Gilberto Simoni by 9 minutes in 2006, this somehow makes me rather sad. Oh well, at least he's got a lovely post-cycling gig as a blueberry farmer lined up--and Ivan, if you're really still signing for Tinkov next year, you might wanna get yer salary in a cash advance before he changes his mind!
Yep, it's just five days to the fabulous Giro d'Italia, and now that we've covered the course, the jerseys, and the fan basics, it's time to look at the likely candidates for the maglia rosa! Exciting new UCI rule: anyone riding the Giro d'Italia for the sole reason that they think they can't win the Tour de France will be nut-kicked daily immediately upon sign-in each morning. That'll force you to genuflect to the superior Giro, unworthy swine! So, Your General Classification Contenders:
Defending champ Vincenzo Nibali: not here. Of course, *why* one would save oneself for July as opposed to peaking now is an annoying mystery, but then, he's clearly got a little more work to do anyway. It'll still be here for next year, Vincenzo!
Cadel Evans (BMC): sure, he's older than the actual Dolomites, but for a primordial fossil, he's sure got legs. Strengths: rides well in extremely foul conditions, including rain, sleet, snow, mud, dust, and plague of locusts; time trials well, and there's actually quite a bit of that this year. He's also got the strongest team of all the GC contenders, which is absolutely going to matter in the bone-deep grind of the third week, including, of course, Euskaltel team captain/former Olympic gold medalist Samuel Sanchez, who, as we've already seen by his service in the Classics for Philippe Gilbert, is willing and able to tank himself blasting apart the field on a climb. Cadel, you *better* be nice to 'im! Weaknesses: how dare you suggest that anyone with Sanchez on his team has "weaknesses," you faithless heretic weasel!
Purito Rodriguez (Katusha): he's been *so* close to the top of the podium at *so* many (well, several, which is more than most people without the benefits of a Tramadol line permanently implanted in his butt) Grand Tours, and Purito, as long as Samu gets a stage win, I hope this one is yours. Strengths: damn, can he climb, and just when you think he's cracked for good, he claws his way back again every single time. Weaknesses: hates the cold, and usually, you can count on one GC-busting blizzard in this race. Bundle him *up*, Katusha--and keep some extra warm gloves in the team car!
Nairo Quintana (Movistar): you saw him at the Tour last year. 'Nuff said! Strengths: inexhaustible climber, and with so many mountaintop finishes, that gives him plenty of opportunity to jump on a rival's moment o' crisis. Weaknesses: aside from one or two freak efforts, like other pure climbers he can't time trial for !@#$. Plus, he's made it clear he's only riding the Giro because Movistar's making him to get him a little more seasoning (tho' to be fair, Cadel's been clear he'd rather be up for the fight in July). If someone else wants it more--and there are people that do--those two things could knock him back on the podium.
Yer Outsiders: yes, Dan Martin and a few other guys could do well on their own and step up if there's some misfortune. But even so, it's mostly:
Michele Scarponi (Astana). Oh, he'll probably podium, with all the Valverdean intestinal discomfort that'll naturally induce in the rest of us, but he does have a tendency to attack rashly then blow up when someone else counters. Might keep the narcs distracted though if Scarponi has the sense to fly a bit under the radar, which certainly can't hurt!
Ivan Basso (Cannondale): some rehab job, right? Like Cadel, gettin' a little old for this sort of thing, and no, he won't win by the disconcerting margins of the past, but a top-five likelihood nonetheless. Strength and Weakness: Cannondale is bringing blooming youngster Elia Viviani for the sprints, and given his repeated ass-whuppin' of Cavendish this week, the Giro's wholly over-the-top number of sprint stages, and depending on Ivan's legs, they might be tempted to throw just a wee bit too much of their resources behind Elia. But Basso's a two-time champ, and suave as hell, so don't count out the combination of passion and style!
Rigoberto Uran (OPQS): Strengths: stays upbeat under all kinds of pressure, like Samson his flowing locks give immortal powers, and he rhymes with the greatest band of the 80s. Weaknesses: hasn't quite proven himself up to the other GC contenders over the long haul yet, hasn't got as strong a team behind 'im, and again like Samson, if anyone cuts off his hair in the middle of the night, he'll crumble. Forza Rigoberto!
Well, them's mine, and as usual I'm probably wrong so you can all place yer opposing bets with utter confidence. I guess I oughta cover the sprinters next--but geez,this *is* the Giro, after all!
Age of Aquarius: yes, it's just all peace, love, and--surprise!--total impotence at UCI, as they finally confront on the hard questions like, how much exactly did you cover for Armstrong? why do you only go after cyclists who piss you off? and, how come you haven't caught anyone higher'n a cul-de-sac tricycle rider for the last five years? with this scorched-earth, once-and-for-all solution to the scourge of doping in cycling: come bang on a snare drum in the woods chanting around a campfire wearing a loincloth, and, like, share your innermost feelings with us, man! Gee, *thanks*, Captain Love-In, *that* oughta solve all our problems! Oh, fine, break out the body paint Pat "Dick", we can all just paint flowers and peace signs on each others' torsos while you ignore everyone who could possibly change cycling for the better, *again*...
"Danger" to Public Health? But Fuentes Doped Me Up Just *Dandy*, Thank You Very Much!: and, as Ivan "So Close, But Yet So Far" Basso tries to sell the same ol' "I only attempted to dope" snake oil again, and the far more plausible we love (shut up! is too! I'm in my happy place!) Joseba Beloki claims never to have met Dr. Eufemiano "Gyno to the Male Stars" Fuentes at all, legendary pin-up/sprint icon Mario Cipollini has just dodged a close one: apparently, the Italian narcs are already calling off their new investigation into his highly suspicious links to Fuentes because, the good Dr. has reportedly testified, the 70,000 euros Cipo gave to him was not for blood doping, or even the notoriously bull!@#$ "training advice," but for a strict and highly complicated regime of chest-hair waxing. Saved by the manscaping, Lion King--now cough up who frosted your highlights, or we're gonna slap your !@# in prison!
Hasta la Vista, Baby!: finally, in actual race news, it sure looks like Peter "The Terminator" Sagan is getting ready to whomp on his fast-men competitors in the big races, as he starts his season off with a sharp attack and the lead at the Tour of Oman. Watch out, Cav, and don't get too smug, Classics men--swooning fan club or not, this flashy kid's set to take you *on*! Here, the win on the day:
Up, Up, and Away!: screw all that tiresome sprint crap: after the Alps failed to winnow the field, the Giro gets serious in the Dolomites this week, and for my money, if Ivan Basso don't change tactics but quick, he's !@#$ed in Milan. Y'know, I admire Liquigas for its sensible containment tactics, I suppose, but Rodriguez is gonna attack, and smooth and steady as Basso is, if Purito can otherwise stay more or less with him, he's gonna smoke 'im on the steeps. Even Scarponi was the only one who could grab onto Alberto Contador's shirttails last year, and if he can get over his own preference for response rather'n independent attack, he could take Basso too. And frankly, I don't know that Ryder Hesjedal, who I'd love to see on the podium, is any less reliable despite his less formidable squad, and he's distinctly shown some punch this Giro. Ivan, you can't just minimize your losses any more--you've actually gotta *gain*, and before the penultimate day on the Stelvio. Am I the only one who thinks this?
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ohhhh/Caught In a Bad Romance: geez, I honestly didn't think it was possible, but things are getting even worse between the Schlecks and Johan Bruyneel, as Frank drops out of the Giro with a popped (though apparently re-located) shoulder, and not only does Johan immediately pronounce him a "total wuss," (c'mon, you know what "disappointment" means), but Johan implies that he'll screw his *own* chances for another Tour de France credit by keeping Frank out of the Tour just to hose over Andy. Man, Johan, just grab Alberto Contador for a hot night out at a nightclub and rub the Schlecks' nose in it, whydontcha--are you really gonna be *that* much of a cad, especially when it's *you* who miscalculated hiring 'em? I mean, sure, the boys get the hell on my nerves, too--but show some class you punk!
We Love You Robbie "Head-Butt"!: last, but absolutely not least, a tearful farewell to the great Robbie McEwen on his retirement, because not only *must* one love a man who threatens to shove a fist down Lance Armstrong's throat, but the three-time green jersey-winning "Pocket Rocket" was truly one of the greatest sprinters of his--hell, any--time. Robbie, we'll miss you--and we look forward to watching your upcoming proteges stomp the field! Here, a few of this fantastic Aussie's greatest hits (literally, if you count him grabbing that fan by the throat):
Yes, it's truly time for the fabulous Giro, and while the very concept of a "sprinter's Giro" makes me yack, there's still plenty o' mountainous suffering to be had in this gorgeous race, so here's Yer Official Guide to the 2012 Giro:
The Corsa: starts in Denmark, which is bitchin', but is pretty well flat the first week, which blows. Week 2: we start to hit the hills, honey, and begin to tease out out the GC hopefuls from the hopeless. The last week: the high passes at last, including a record-setting altitude-o'-agony on the fearsome Passo Stelvio *after* a same-stage slog up the Mortirolo. The prologue: a twisty, technical 8.7 kilometer time trial to put a bod into pink. Stay upright, boys--you got a looooooong way to go yet from here!
The Fast Men: like I'd care, but Thor, Benna-Jet, Mark Cavendish, and, most of all, heartbroken good-guy Tyler Farrar are there, and frankly, Hushovd better pull *something* off to make BMC forget his Classics. And go Cav--we're only going to see you for a few days anyway!
The Favorites: for the first time in a long time, there really ain't any. But Vuelta god Rodriguez wouldn't mind it, Ivan Basso needs it, and Roman Kreuziger--well, it'd sure've been nice for his beauty rest had Alexander Vinokourov'd not rashly marked him for 21 consecutive 3 a.m. wake-n'-pokes by the narcs by recently bragging a fellow Astana-ite had "won a race like Vino!" My question: without Contador's wheel to aspire to, will Michele Scarponi have the mental and physical wherewithal to take the whole show on his own? Here, an exclusive pic of Frank Schleck after hearing the news of his RadioSkank leadership from Johan Bruyneel:
The Climbers: crying in their Cheerios 'til about stage 8, basically, but thankfully, the Giro organizers haven't totally lameified the route. And while the GC freak out marking each other--Jose Rujano, the queen stage is yours!
And, Yet Another Reason Our Friends Down Under Just Rock: finally, while this has nothing to do with the Giro, it's still surely a sign of something good, as from the Aussie (non-cycling) sports federations comes this plea to warm the hearts of stoners everywhere: since pot doesn't actually *help* performance, please, please, please take it off the banned-substances list! Y'know, moralize all ya want, but it's true--Jan Ullrich once gained 67 pounds during the off-season from attacks of the munchies alone. How the hell else you think Lance kept winning the Tour?
Well, dear reader(s), onwards and (I swear) upwards--here's to the magnificent prize you're shooting for!
Yes, it's a mere five days to the start of the glorious Giro, and just two months from the hypeapalooza of the Tour de France, and frankly, since there's no Alberto Contador to kick the absolute crap outta everyone 'til the Vuelta, things is gonna be a lot more unpredictable this year. The latest:
1. Bio-passport-bustee/new Androni hire Franco "Oh No He Shaved Off His Euromullet!" Pellizotti sadly isn't riding the Giro. On the plus side, he's still gonna be prettier than anyone else who *is* there, except maybe Ivan Basso or Cunego. That's one less guy to hog the hotel mirrors, anyway!
2. Basso's looked like !@#$ this season, tho' to be fair (for once), he's had some nasty whacks on the pavement. But after actually thinking about bailing, he sez he can ride the Giro to win now. Despite the Giro's obvious superiority, am I the only one thinkin' all this must be just a liiiiiiiiiiiittle bit ego-crushing for the former Next Lance Armstrong?
3. Frank Schleck as 'Skank team leader at the Giro. Either Johan Bruyneel *really* thinks Andy'll perform better if he comes out from behind Frank's skirts, or he's called it a day entirely and is pinning his July GC hopes on old-as-Moses (if still phenomenally bitchin') Chris Horner. One of you bros better save *one* of these Tours for Johan, Frank--Machiavelli there could reverse-dope your !@# and turn you into a mewling kitten if you cross 'im!
4. Michele Scarponi, who used to be at Liberty "Blood Bags 'R' Us" Seguros with Alberto Contador, is now the "defending" 2011 Giro champ since Contador's win was stripped and given to Scarponi. Anyone else snortin' their espresso out their noses right now?
5. In related Scarponi news, fellow Lampre teammate/former Giro theif Damiano "I Told You You Were a Classics Man" Cunego is now relegated to being the squad's also-ran back-up man. Bow to Gilberto Simoni like you should've the first time, you karma-slurpin' twerp!
6. Cadel. A little down, but he'll be back by July. Hell, he can't do worse'n baby Schleck!
7. Brad Wiggins. After a time trial, sprint, and up-'n'-downer in Romandie, has ever so exclusively a one-trick specialist as Wiggo looked so badassian for the Tour? Just watch yerself none of the other GC contenders thwap you off the Galibier for pretty well calling 'em all dopers today...
8. The Amgen EPO You-Suck-for-Decimating-the-Giro Tour of California: you *suck*, Tour of California, and the UCI scum-weasels who rescheduled you! Oh, Robbie McEwen, how *could* you make this your very last race...at least dope-slap someone upside the eardrums into the barriers a few yards from the finish line for old times' sake!
Coming soon: your comprehensive guide to the 2012 Giro. Lesson One: Giro rules, Tour drools--now scream it at the top of your lungs til your voice gives out!
1. It's a good thing Andy Schleck actually had gastroenteritis to excuse his performance. Because--and I say this as someone who will personally nut-knee anyone who disses my beautiful mountain gods at Euskaltel--when the boys in black and orange beat your !@# in a time trial, you *know* you suck but good.
2. Tummyache, got it. So, apparently, do half these poor guys, including Thor which completely explains him falling off the back like a brick every stage so far (shut up!). So Frank, what's *your* excuse?
3. Tommeke. It's so great to see him back, physically and most of all mentally, in the game. Ten bucks sez he posts another soft-core shower video on youtube before the season's out!
4. Gustav Larsson. Yes, the conditions sucked for the later boys. Still, like you honestly saw that coming?
5. Jeeeeeeeennnnnnnssssss! Did you *see* his freakin' time trial? Jeeeeennnnnsssss!
6. Alejandro Valverde. It's funny how, when Ivan Basso came back from his Op Puerto ban, it took him over a season to get back to a remotely similar level. Valverde, by contrast, has started winning right away. Funny.
7. Speaking of whom, Ivan Basso. What the !@#$? Get out of the middle of the pack already !@#dammit!
8. Sep Vanmarcke. There ain't no moss growin' on that kid. Canniest up-and-coming fastman I think since Freire.
9. RadioSkank. Just...give Horner the GC for the Tour, alright Johan? But nice try today Klodi!
10. NBC Sports. We get it. 896 races since 2010 now have new winners since horrible Contador's horrible doping ban. Who gives? It's not like he's not gonna take Murcia again next year anyway. On a quasi-related note, am I the only who is absolutely *diggin'* that Alberto is dope-slapping Pat "Dick" McQuaid by posting a photo of himself training on his bike every two seconds on his Twitter feed?
Well, them's mine. I see Tirreno-Adriatico is rollin'. Cav, you want Cipo for a lead-out? I hear he's back on the market!
Tyler Extends the Olive Branch: y'know, I was gonna post a whole bunch of sweet sentimental ponderings today on dreamy Cav's impending fatherhood and Rodriguez's adoration of Team Katusha, but !@#$ that--for my money, the best tweet o' the week is traitorous Lance Armstrong defector/men's-room beatdown rival Tyler Hamilton, generously letting Lance know that if he wants any restaurant recommendations while he's in town, silly inconsequential betrayal to the feds and impending legacy destruction or no, Ty's still his man. Note to Lance (who shockingly, however, hasn't apparently yet responded)--if you end up in some cockroach-ridden Southie back-alley with Tyler and a posse of black-clad goons at 2 a.m. "looking for the entrance", he ain't takin' you to Legal Seafoods for chowder. See, I can be nice!
BMC See the Bloody Remnants o' Yer Carcass Next Season, Thor!: and, unstoppable Velo d'Or Philippe Gilbert is already amping up the love at Team BMC, ruminating on his chances for dominance in Paris-Roubaix for 2012 and, one assumes, really reassuring Thor Hushovd that besides being demoted to Cadel's water-boy at the Tour de France, he can also look forward to being Gilbert's b!@#$ at the Classics next year. !@#dammit, has ever a recent World Champion been so nut-kicked in such swift succession by squads that oughta be backing him up? Yap, yap, Thor's a whiner, yap--much as I love Cadel and Philippe, he should be freakin' howling at the moon like a werewolf and going all Wolverine on their !@#es, and they should thank him extravagantly for doing it!
The Racejunkie Review o' Books: yes, all that fancy lit-crit is for weenies, because my spankin' new Ivan Basso autobio has just arrived on these very shores, and, faster'n you can say "Birillo," I hope to be posting the more salacious details of his career--which, I fear, may be sorely lacking in this edition--for both yer entertainment. Oh well, what it may lack in potentially-litigious peloton gossip, it'll certainly make up for in really pretty pictures. Woo-hoo!
Jens, the Next Generation: finally, I see total god Jens Voigt has tweeted that one of his Jenslets just competed in--and, inevitably, won--his first-ever bike race. me, I'm thinking that with approximately 563 offspring to his credit, Jens derivatives'll pack to the peloton enough within the next ten years that there'll be no-one left *but* a Jens and Jensette in the ProTour ranks, all joyfully bounding ahead of each other on the road whether their DSes want them to or not like labs after a just-tossed tennis ball. Bow, peons--and with that many of 'em coming up, we're gonna have to get used to doing it *often*!
Who Can It Beeeeee Now?: yes, reluctant defending Giro champ Alberto Contador is going for full-on revenge at the Tour de France--and not even considering he won't be able to do either of them--which leaves, despite a penultimate-day blowup on the Stelvio that Contador could really whale on, basically a spindly-gladiator internecine dog-fight between warily-complementary Liquigas teammates Vincenzo Nibali and Ivan Basso for Grand Tour glory. Look, prodigy Nibali blew this year's Vuelta and Basso woofed--despite a fine and steady performance throughout, but we're talking by Basso standards here--his once-unquestioned claim to the Tour. So the question is, does Liquigas put a much surer bet on proven Giro commodity Basso for three-peat Italian glory and just pray for Nibali to hold it together for a decent showing in July, or does it assume that a Contador-free Nibali can still grab the Giro with a bunch of domestiques essentially training to support Basso and put all its real faith into Ivan's potential for a final maillot jaune in Paris? Me, I'm guessing that even Basso's hard-swallowed pride of the last few years won't allow a major rebellion from Nibali just yet--but one thing I do know is, with this year's flat-lovin' parcours, Mark Cavendish'll look really bad even for a sprinter if he skips out any time before the final week!
"Falling Leaves" My !@#--You *Suck*, UCI!: and, as the last edition of the real Giro di Lombardia goes out with a thrilling and satisfying end with a win by typically unheralded worker-bee Oliver Zaugg, it finally whacks me like a Grand-Tour post-doping-control "stomach virus"--that wanker Pat "Dick" McQuaid really means it when he booted Lombardia from its rightful season-ending position in favor of the Tour of Beijing for 2012, because if there's any hallowed tradition *more* deserving than the beautiful Giro di Lombardia of being kicked back to a totally unnecessary and irrelevant time slot near the Worlds in favor of a one-year-old race no-one yet cares about in which cyclists are afraid to eat the food, DSes are afraid to feed it to them, and riders are tweeting each other terrifying photos of the lung-munching pollutant haze, Pat "Dick" apparently hasn't heard of it. What next you goons, rescheduling the dandy and certainly enjoyable--but still pretty new--Amgen EPO "Don't Bother With Those Silly Blood Tests, We Don't Mind" Tour of California exactly so half the peloton'll bail on the far more worthy, century-old Giro d'Italia? Oh, wait...you *double* suck, UCI! Anyway, here's the glory our humble Zaugg deserves: All Hail the Domestiques!
All Right, *That's* Too Much: look, I'm all for takin' down the Man. So if a bunch of separatists and/or their opponents wanna go all wingnut and start a half-riot at the Giro di Padania, hey, that's cool. But slapping Ivan Basso?! That's just punk-!@#, you pansies! First, as Ivan rightly notes, he's a cyclist, not a politician, so you're slappin' the wrong dude entirely. Second, he's a *cyclist* and weighs about 1/50th of a normal human being, so if you're any bigger than a freakin' Barbie doll you look like a complete wussy for whackin' him. Third--he's Ivan !@#$ing Basso you moron, do you know how much that pretty face is worth if he sues your !@# for bruising that thing?!--Betty Grable's legs alone were insured for $1 million back in World War II, for chrissakes! Oh, wait, that's his hot sister. Anyway, here's the chaos: That's it, not *quite* clear on the slap but close enough for me and a passel o' swooning jurors, you're going DOWN, fuzzy-boy--Ivan, sue the !@#$*&!!
Froome, Froome!: okay, sing it--you didn't peg Chris Froome for the podium--hell, even the guy who sets up the podium--at the Vuelta a Espana, either. But there he is, and there's Cobo, who you didn't see coming either, still in red. Which begs the question--what the hell? And before any of you wisenheimers start making little syringe-squirting motions with your hands, let me just say this--I have it on good authority (meaning, I can't find where I read it) that Juanjo rode a really, really low gear to win his stage compared to the other riders, and Froome--well, come on, the man was staggering all over the Angliru like a Bud-soaked frat boy coming off a merry-go-round, and anyhow, could that big a Boy Scout ever do anything that pervy? So go Cobo (even if Igor Anton *did* almost crush you today, woo-hoo!)--and don't !@#$ with my stupid faith in you, you hear?
Jens Voigt Transfer Update: nothin'! there isn't one! anywhere! not a peep from anyone! aiiiiigggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! aaiiiiiiiiggggghhhhhhh! Oh, Jens, *please* not RadioSkank...
Yep, forget the 11 days of GC-decimating crash-hold-ups, mass pile-ups, and dates with ditches that've left basically Cadel and Andy slugging it out for numero uno and all the other dogs just yappin' behind--it's finally time for the high mountains, baby, and the Tour begins in the Pyrenees! Anyway, tomorrow we'll see if what's left of Alberto can finally drop--and let's be honest, he needs to *severely* drop--Cadel and baby Schleck, or if he'll be stuck recovering time in craptastic 10-second increments til even the final time trial can't save him. Me, I'm rather hoping Alberto'll gain it all back just so Cadel can slap him around in the end like the road warrior he's finally grown into, but then, if Contador can pull this Tour out of the hole, especially after that grindfest of a Giro, I suppose it'd be just plain bad sportsmanship *not* to cheer him. And, since we all already know Samu Sanchez will take a stage for his down-but-not-out orange army (shut up! will too!), can the cagey Ivan Basso come up with the goods and knock one of the chosen ones off the top 3? Still, go Cadel--bonus points if you bring your dog up on the podium!
The stages: tomorrow, it's an Hors Category two-fer up the Tourmalet and Luz-Ardiden, , then, after a Friday drop off the Col d'Aubisque, Saturday brings us 6 ugly climbs with a lively--and leg-mashing--finish on Plateau de Beille. Meanwhile, chin up, Cav--a few more years of crawling on your knees up these stages to make the time cut, and you'll be climbing mountains like Thor Hushovd, I promise!
Now He's Bionic: yep, just when you thought all Alberto Contador had to contend with is a bunch of babies accusing of cheating the entire peloton by clenbuterol microdosing, now there's (wholly speculative and unsupported) allegations from the French that the child is mechanically bike-doping in the mountains, based, it seems, on (1) his suspiciously changing bikes at critical points in the Giro and (2) that long wire attached to a battery pack that Bjarne Riis sticks into Contador's top tube whenever he goes back to the team car for a "water bottle." Um, isn't it possible this is just a cheap-shot tactic to draw attention away from the fact that, a few stellar guys excepted, the French lately just plain suck? Hey--look--I think Andy Schleck's got spikes on his derailleur to take out the wheels of his competitors--that must be why we haven't won the Tour in 20 years!
Sportsmanship o' the Year Award: meantime, I see none other than Lance superenabler/RadioSkank overlord Johan Bruyneel says he thinks Contador is innocent and ought to ride the Tour de France, which is not only a gesture of great and benevolent kindness to his former wayward protege, but also, it can be surmised, an easy proclamation to change his mind on and immediately accuse the little !@#$%%$& of doping and destroying Lance and Johan's innocent faith should Alberto actually win the Tour again. Y'know, I am still dearly rooting for Levi--but Johan and his Machiavellian cadre of minions, not so much!
Forza, Ivan!: finally, though there may well be doubts at this point of the wisdom of Ivan Basso ditching his defense of the Giro in pursuit of his ever-elusive and Op-Puerto disrupted dream of the Tour de France, I gotta say, based on his Dauphine Ivan really got hosed by that crap training crash on Mt. Etna a few weeks back, and I'm exceedingly hoping, at least for livening-up-the-usual-Alberto-Andy-battle purposes, he rides into form enough in the first week of the Tour to keep himself a genuine threat for the podium. Or, accident aside, it could just be his regular-innocent-guy blood values causing the "problem"--what the heck was that stuff Schleck and those guys were mixing into their sports drinks again?
Watch Out, Baby Schleck: yep, for a guy just at the Dauphine for "training" along with most of the other Tour de France big guns, Cadel Evans is sure lookin' good out there as he pulls highly respectable results in the prologue time trial and sincewise, and if *I* were a guy like Andy Schleck who blows at the time trial, however brief this one was, I'd be feeling a miiiiiite twitchy about my prospects for July right now. Y'know, about the the only thing Cadel could do to make me like him *more* lately would be to threaten to bludgeon another journalist who got too close to his dog. Woo-hoo Cadel!
Readin', Ridin', and 'Rithmetic: and, it's apparently autobiography season in the peloton, as dandy pinup Ivan Basso's got a fine new tome out, "Climbing Against the Wind"--both, according to Basso, a metaphor for cycling and life--and even if you *don't* read Italian, or simply can't bear to read again that ghastly bull!@#$ that he only "tried" to dope in 2006, I believe it's entirely worth it for the pictures, including a full-color, three-part centerfold of Ivan reclining on a bear-skin rug clad only in his skivv--wait, am I reading this review right? Anyhoo, endlessly tiresome whinemeister St. David Millar also's got a brand new book, which, while the title escapes me--primarily because he's so unbearable I can't stand to look too close--apparently contains the shockingly un-introspective but distinctly displeased revelation that former Saunier Duval weasel-teammate Riccardo Ricco was particularly adept with a syringe. (Contador, apparently, gets a walk.) All right, all right, you're freakin' reformed, the sport's still a hideous cesspool, everyone else except you is still a dope-snorting dirtbag--has it *ever* occurred to you in the midst of your righteous wailing that, once in a while, when talented as you are even you lose a race, the guy who beat you might actually be clean? Next on stands: Robbie "Head-Butt" McEwen's life story. Buy it or he'll !#@$in' jam his fist down yer throat, you !@#$in' !@#$er!
It's the Official Racejunkie Let's Save Team RadioSkank Petition Drive!: okay guys, it's becoming increasingly obvious that, thanks to the "FactsF-OverLance" Armstrong doping scandal, Team RadioShack's continued sponsorship is in doubt, and, as I *do* feel kindly inclined to some of these guys, I hereby launch the Official Racejunkie Let's Save Team RadioSkank Petition Drive! My plan: we got a perfect (and race-winning!) shill in the great, admitted junk-food addict Chris "Supersize Me" Horner, we need something wholesome to draw in Americans to the sport, so we're targeting McDonald's, baby! !@#$, if a lunch-time-musette Big Mac, Filet-o'Fish, Quarter Pounder, french fries, icy Coke, thick shake, sundae, and apple pie ain't gonna float you up that mountain like you got wings, what exactly *do* you think can do it, clenbuterol? Suckers! Oh, come on--let's do it!
Rest Days Are for Pansies: yep, after Contador's monster mental--not to mention physical--crushing of his rivals up Mt. Etna, it's back for a quick trip to the (relative) flat before the Dolomites kick in, and lucky Week 1 winner Joe has sadistically chosen the colorful Mark Cavendish as his Two-Week Rider Insult Moratorium bud! In which case, I gotta say: that was a very, very fine sprint today, Cav--well earned, and it's darned nice to see you back on form. Here's the finish: And you looked quite dashing in your team kit to boot. And you didn't ev--dammit! Must...control...mind...can't...touch...keyboard...
Call A Plastic Surgeon, Stat!: bad news for Ivan Basso--right as one of the most formidable, and certainly by far the prettiest, of the Tour de France GC contenders gets into the swing of pre-race training, our Liquigas pinup has a nasty fall on a tricky curve in Sicily, whacks the crap out of his shoulder and requires 15 stitches around his right eye and all over his cheek. Luckily, no broken bones, so though naturally declaring himself "really scared," Basso will gamely be back on the bike post-haste. Forza, Ivan--we all want the Tour to be the Battle of the Best, so don't let this little incidente psych you out!
In the Meadow We Can Build a Snowman: meantime, the Tour of California has wisely steered away the peloton from its scheduled trip to the Donner Pass--'cause not to get graphic here, primarily because I'd hurl, but the contents of a musette can only last so long if you know what I mean--and, after a coupla exciting sprints (Thor! Come *on* already!), it's back at last to not only warmer climes, but, even better, it's time for the mountains, honey! And, if my dear reader(s) across the pond will allow me just one rah-rah imperialist-pig America-n'-apple-pie moment, ain't it nice to see our domestic squads whomp the competition in their home stomping grounds? Yeah, take *that*, Euro-snobs! So what, the Americans still haven't quite won a stage yet...well, *you* pampered lap dogs try to do the job every day when American sports sponsors are spending all their dough on a pack of steroid-snorting NFL no-necks!
Finally: Enter here to win free stuff in the 2011 Giro d'Italia Racejunkie Win Free Stuff Contest! This week's bonus points: for anyone who gets a tat of Contador making that "pistolero" shot right on their !@#. Well, no bonus points technically, exactly--but hey, won't your mama be *proud*?
Bow, Garmin!: okay, the truth is out: Thor Hushovd doesn't like Jonathan Vaughters' tactics, he doesn't like this "figure it out on the road" !@#$, *and*, worst of all, he doesn't feel like he's getting the support he needs. What the !@#$, Garmin, the man is not only we love Thor Hushovd, he's !@#$in' world champion for !@#$'s sake! Y'know, I actually admire Vaughters a lot--not least because I love Tyler Farrar, who's a real class act--but !@#dammit, man, if Thor says so, it must be true! Here, pal, *look* who you're squandering----now get your freakin' act together and pay him the homage (and dough) he deserves, or suck it in the flaming smoking depths of hell for all eternity!
Brutt Force: my, that was one sturdy win in freezing miserable rainy conditions by quiet Pavel Brutt at the Tour of Romandie--almost as cool as young Jonathan "Holy Crap a Euskaltel Rider Just Won a Prologue!" Castroviejo taking his first professional win in the prologue over the bad-!@# likes of Taylor Phinney, and even cooler than Damiano Cunego picking himself up out of a season-long funk to take the stage today. In less happy--and in fact darned near terrifying--Romandie news, reformed pinup Ivan Basso got clocked right in the kisser with a kicked-up rock, causing the poor boy to literally see stars and, even worse, busting the tooth of one of the comeliest faces in all of cycling. Don't worry, Ivan--I'm sure they can fix it, and you're still really, really pretty! Oh wait, that's your hot sister. Well, you're still really, really pretty too!
The US Takes Down Lance Armstr...um, Mr. Ed: pack it in, Novitzky, there's bigger game than some podunk 7-time Tour de France winner to go after--yes, a United States Senator has decided to take on the scourge of desperate thoroughbreds snorting through their stud-fee trust funds in search of EPO, HGH, Clenbuterol, or whatever's the Next Big Thing. Dang, boys, why not just hook up with the Spanish peloton (allegedly!)--can you say "group discounts"?
Yes, folks, with only two weeks left for either a brilliant move or, more likely let's face it, an act of egregious late-season stupidity on the part of some sap in the peloton, we here at racejunkie are nonetheless taking a chance and are both pleased and honored to present to you our ultra-prestigious--or, for the doofi among the roadies, ultra-embarrassing--2010 Racejunkie Awards:
Hot 'n' Sexy Scandal of 2010 (and All Eternity): What else? Alberto Contador poz for dope at the Tour de France with just 5 freakin' picograms of Clenbuterol. So was it the tainted meat, garden-variety cheating, or just, as some wags have suggested, a downright stupid re-injection of still-doped blood from this year's Tour de Suisse that sunk you? Only you, behind those big, pretty eyes of yours, know the truth. Aw, rats, say it ain't so--like, honestly!
Comeback Kid of 2010: Ivan Basso, this one's for you. After a brutal fall from grace, and a reassuringly so-so return in 2009, the patriarch of the Cutest Family Ever clawed his way back to a spectacular second win at the Giro--and without any of that 9-minutes crap that so awed and rightly disconcerted us in 2006. Welcome back, GQ man--and you *better* not be fudging it this time!
Stage Win o' the Year: yes, I've said it before. And no, it never, ever, ever gets old. Cadel Evans, Stage 7, Giro d' Italia. Smashing!
Total !@#hole of the 2010: game, set, match. Congrats, Riccardo Ricco', you weenie--way to slither back to the peloton!
Come *On*, Come *On*, Come *On*! Prize: he's big, he's bodacious, he's rehabbed himself beautifully, and let's face it, he's just plain charming. I also hear tell--and indeed, fully believe--he's one of most fearsome classics and sprint men in the business. Tom Boonen, we *know* this year was an injury-plagued aberration--and we're all *so* pulling for you next year!
Absolute Yawn of 2010 Award: sorry, Lance, but you at the Tour. You're the greatest Tour de France rider of all time, and, not coincidentally, one of the greatest riders, period. You're a tireless advocate for those battling cancer, a cause whose nobility none can deny. And even if video of you actually grabbing a syringe from a FedEx package labeled "My Big Box o' Illegal Performance-Enhancing Drugs" and shooting it into your personal butt should surface on YouTube tomorrow, your adoring American public would just completely ignore it anyway. So why, why, why, especially after a middling (by Armstrong standards, anyway) 2009 comeback, would you ever continue in 2010 with mere mediocrity? Forget the horridly-irritating press-whore orgy we had to endure at your every colon blow in every freakin' race you showed up to that was just nails-on-a-blackboard this year--baffling!
Now *There's* An Armstrong Who Don't Piss Me Off Award: yes, to the joy of her fans and the flat-out fears of her competitors, repeat world champ Kristin Armstrong decides to come out of her still-new retirement for another (likely successful) crack at Olympic glory. You *go*, Kristin--and all *she* imbibes for help is chocolate milk!
Punk-!@# Move of 2010 (Race-Day): really? You sent your lead-out hired-goon Renshaw up to head-butt Julian Dean and squeegee fair-play king Tyler Farrar into the barriers? Damn, Cav, sucker-punch a little old lady or somethin', why dontcha?
Punk-!@# Move of 2010 (Non-Competition): okay, it was actually when your book got published, but geez Louise, Floyd, writing a whole book to rip off your most loyal, devoted defenders for $24.95 or some extortionate !@#$ then admitting the whole thing was lying crap is just *no* *class* at all. But hey--after taxes, it shouldn't take you much more'n ten years of hard labor asking surly junk-food addicts if they wanna Supersize it at McDonalds to pay 'em all back, right? Now do it!
Karma, Baby! Prize of 2010: look, ya gotta give Bjarne Riis some credit--with a few little snafus, he was one of the winningest team leaders in the business. More, he had the exquisite sense to hire--and well support--we love Jens. But the minute you started being mean to the faultless Carlos Sastre--the guy who WON YOU THE FREAKIN' TOUR DE FRANCE YOU TOOL--your world started to crumble around you, up to and including the Schlecks bailing to create their very own squad *and* your little cash-cow savior Contatwerp's unfortunate little run-in with some drugged-up cattle. Not that it has anything to do with YOUR BEING MEAN TO SASTRE. Oh, Bjarne--maybe if you take 'im out for a nice lunch or something, it'll all come 'round next year...
Crash of the Year Award (Single): oh, Euskaltel. Oh, Igor. Yep, it's Igor Anton's instantaneous loss of the fabulous Vuelta a Espana that just about crushed my soul. How exactly do you type the noise where you bay like a heart-broken basset hound? Yeah, that!
Crash of the Year Award (Multiple): the little stretch of oil-slick on the downhill of the Col Stockeu that broke the bones of damn near half the Tour de France and killed poor we love Christian Vande Velde for GC. What the !@#$ is this, Paris-Roubaix?
Sissy-Boy Slap-Fight of the Year: If there's anything more enjoyable than watching one guy built like an elf whanging another guy built like a wood sprite upside the head with a $400 wheel with the clear intent of impaling his skull with it, I've yet to see it. Carlos Barredo and Rui Costa, this one's for you!
Everyone Else on the Planet Is a Wuss Award: yep, this one's for ever-winning Frenchwoman Jeannie Longo, stomping her toddler competition for national champ for the umpteenth year in a row. And not only were these women in diapers when she *started* competing, they're gonna all be in adult diapers before she stops. So tell me why the rest of you delicate flowers in the peloton all hit the showers in 30s, again? On second thought, explain it to Longo instead!
Tweet Rant of 2010: Don't !@#$ with Robbie McEwen, man. 'Cause he'll cut you. If you're lucky. And even so, you're still gonna be thankin' him for merely going all Gitmo on your !@#. To the nameless numb-nut who knocked McEwen off his ride after the line, hope livin' off the grid in a filthy hidden cave like some time-traveled Neanderthal is treatin' you well--and for years to come!
Embarrassingly Rah-Rah "USA Rules!" Bud-Drinkin' Beer-Gut Scratchin' Imperialist Moment o' 2010: Mara Abbott, 1st American woman to win the Giro. Forza, you goddess--and did I mention she conquered the Stelvio? So now, can we go back to humiliating the French instead?
And Last But Not Least, Doping Excuse o' the Year: yep, it's a two-fer for Contador--oy! Close second: Chuck Coyle's claim that a dear teammate used his computer, password, and home address to procure a whole bucket o' forbidden dope, but that he admitted to doing it himself because he was just too darned gentlemanly to call his good pal out. Yep, if *my* career depended on it, it'd sure be cool by *me* to have my BFF sell me down the river to protect himself! Darling peloton, can't we all just go back to blaming grandma's EPO habit, and try to retain at least *some* shred of plausible dignity?
Well, that's my year-end wrap-up--to any particularly glorious or disgusting riders whose hijinks I missed, don't worry, honey--there's always next year!
Higher, Baby!: yep, the Tour route's been announced, and while you can read all about it here, suffice it to say there's 3 stages in the Pyrenees in week 2, 3 Alpine stages in the last week including a mountaintop finish on the Galibier, the intermediate sprint and stage-win bonuses have been scrapped, and, all in all, it's a pretty tough climber's course that oughta suit Contador perfectly--if he gets there. Oops! The rider reaction? Baby Schleck--waxing diplomatic about his hopes Contatwerp is innocent and gets to keep his Tour--pegs Nibali, Cadel and Basso as his other rivals--don't let that faze you little Sastre, a mountain stage is still yours but what the hell is this crap about your killin' yourself with three Grand Tours again?!, Hincapie sees his own opportunities if his bike don't combust, and Van de Velde's already lookin' at the Pyrenees.
Slow'n'Steady Wins the Race: or at least avoids more crap publicity for the doper-enablers at UCI, as it promises spons--I mean, those interested in the careful application of justice that it's in no rush to bust--or even not bust--Contador for anything. And hey, if, as Contador is bankin' on, clenbuterol use is okay for a hard-core endurance athlete like a ping-pong player, why *shouldn't* it be okay for some lazy wussy ProTour cyclist as well?
Employment Wanted: meanwhile, looks like Ivan Basso doesn't have to worry about the annoying 2009 team-leadership rival Franco of the Euromullet--currently in the doghouse over a bio-passport prob but having been vociferously supported by Liquigas--anymore, as Ivan utterly ignores his existence in discussing the 2011 season but does suggest he'll give jailbait upstart Vuelta winner Nibali, with whom he swears there is no rivalry, the Giro Ivan won in 2010 so Ivan can focus on the Tour, on the grounds that riding the Giro first is just too damn exhausting. Funny how that wasn't gonna be an issue when Ivan won the Giro by 9 minutes in 2006 and planned to ride the Tour then, too, no? Though it's probably very *good* news that it *is* an issue for him this time around!
I'm Rich! I'm Filthy Rich!: finally, congrats to Alexander "IV" Vinokourov, who's won his epic battle with UCI and doesn't, after all, have to pony up his entire season's salary for that minor little blood-doping matter back in 2007. Me, I think it's great--hell, now he can afford to print up a whole line of those Vinokourov-faced jerseys so we can *all* enjoy wearing his (formerly!) hopped-up little visage on our chests!
Get Your Mortirolo Runnin'/Head Out on the Highway: yes, tho' it crushes me to say, we're down to the last few days of the Giro, dear readers, as Carlos Sastre gets ready to brutally beat down St. Ivan of Varese and Cadel Evans (shut up! will too! at least on Sunday's stage when they're not expecting any snow I hope) on the feared Mortirolo, and Ivan and Cadel get ready to slug it out for GC over two ugly mountain stages as their revered mutual trainer Aldo Sassi, currently battling a brain tumor, roots for both his boys he swears are clean. Me, I'm almost inclined to agree--as a local wiseacre has opined, even with his recent world-champ power surge, "Cadel's just too boring to dope." Anyway, forza Sastre--and watch out for a late attack by Gibo!
Run!/Run Away!/Run Children/Run For Your Life!: meantime, the Most Hated Man In America continues to get it from all sides--from the understandably enraged believers who shelled out dough for his crap book or legal defense to the Lance-lovin' doping (oops, anti-doping) agencies desperate that this year's Tour de France not be !@#$ed with--which just goes to prove two things, kids: (1) no good deed goes unpunished, particularly if you've got weaselly ulterior motives, and (2) if you're gonna accuse a guy like Lance Armstrong of anything, you'd better have a more incredible run, and a more sympathetic charity to sell, and frankly, one taken-back Tour win over a decimated second-rate field, and a bull!@#$ repository o' personal "fairness" funds (whose website, curiously, seems to be offline at the moment) just don't cut it. Ah well, Floyd, live 'n' learn--and, not to think ill of others, but if I were you, I sure wouldn't leave my house from now on without a bulky steroid-stuffed goon entourage!
Good News!: and, good news for you, Mark Cavendish--Andre "Shit Race" Greipel, who took the final sprint in the Giro d'Italia today, would like to stay with HTC-Columbia next year. Of course, with squads like Quick Step begging to up their sprint power and Andre free to be on the market, anything could happen, but then again, with a relationship like you two have, Mark, I bet the boy couldn't even be pried away, much less be seduced by some shabby little pay raise and some paltry top billing. What, you're not popping open a bottle of champagne?
You're So Vania: over in doping-appealsville, I see cyclocross champ/EPO poz-with-subsequent-sorta-negative-B-sample/Riccardo Ricco's spawn-mama Vania Rossi is up against the Italian narcs on June 4, and I gotta say, I'm inclined to feel some sympathy here. I mean, doping for a Tour de France stage and the truly obscene amounts of cash your new contract is gonna get you, I understand--but a freakin' *'cross* rider on the no-credit women's circuit? What the hell benefit could she possibly have been aiming for, a window seat while stuffed in the back of the team Citroen with 6 other teammates on the 1500-mile ride to the next race? It just don't make *sense*, honey! Of course, if easy access leads to temptation, well, at least til Ricco' dumped her at the first sign of trouble, *there's* the apple in the Garden for ya...
What the !@#$ Is Wrong With You, Lampre?: all right, you *did* hire the great Gilberto Simoni to ride one last Giro and remind everyone that, of the two Giro winners on your squad, only one of 'em's done it twice--between that, and the Princess Bride uniforms that recall my fondest tot-hood dress-up adventures, I *am* appreciative. So why the !@#$ are you charging $46 US for his bitchin' new book "Gibo d'Italia" on your website? I'm not saying I won't pay it, once I pimp a kidney on the black market, as Amazon appears not to have an Italian outlet--I *am* saying that just flat sucks. Free Gibo's new book you bloodsuckers!
Oooooh-Whooooah Sweet Child o' Mi-ine: finally, nice job Floyd Landis breaking the heart of a wholesome young tween who ought to be sighing over pictures of that vampire guy right now, as this faithful girl comes to the defense of Lance Armstrong *plus* you made her dad use the swear word "jerk" in very range of her innocent ears: I feel your pain, little sister--but I still think...oh, why set myself up for a lawsuit from the One?
Please Say It's So, Basso!: First, compliments to Carlos Sastre for gallantly and wholly intentionally allowing Cadel Ivan and Nibali to reclaim their dignity by getting 2:30 on him on the stage to Monte Grappa and Ivan to take Zoncolan and get ahead of him on GC today. Shut up! Second, much as I'm used to being grossly disappointed and deeply disgusted by every scum-snorting drug-sucking dirty-pig cheat-wank I've ever admired in the peloton, and much as I despised in particular St. Ivan of Varese's incredibly smarmy and coldly calculated image rehab from his post-Op Puerto "attempted doping" (and right there that continues to piss me off), I must confess that in today's beautifully agonizing stage I rediscovered, in the Ivan-of-2006's elegant reserve, relentlessly smooth turning of the pedals, and--for the first time--visible effort scratched into his face, and in Cadel's painfully workmanlike drunken-sailor rocking on the bike, the sheer sense of romance and impossibility that drew me into the sport in the first place and made me squiggle precariously under a pride of humungous hulking Germans on Passo Pordoi for a tiny picture of Ivan's head, and found myself absolutely caught between longing and cynicism. Ivan, *please* say you did it clean this time--give us poor bastards who follow cycling *some* hope!
Grazie Gilberto Simoni!: no, he didn't take Zoncolan--by a huge wad of riders ahead--and yes, I'm crushed. But in his dotage he's become a perfect gentleman (okay, sue me, I still hope he rips Basso one more time for old times' sake), and here's our class act and two-time (that's *two*, Cunego!) Giro god on his final trip across the line on the mountain he's already conquered so beautifully twice: Bravo Gibo dei tuoi tifosi americani, sei veramente un mito!
The Loathsome and the Odious: in other news, in the wake of Floyd Landis' oddly sudden crisis of conscience (and, not to be petty, he needn't have given me the Stare of Death last year at Interbike, particularly since I spent half of 2007 *defending* (at least on procedural grounds) his dirty doping !@#), repugnant enablers UCI and WADA have already made it clear what they're willing to do to keep the Armstrong legend going, braying the Lance party line that "he's never tested positive" and "there's no proof." UCI, cut the crap! Since when does that matter to you guys? The entire bio passport, for example, is based on the premise that the rider never tests positive. And you're still going after Giro-barred dreamboat Franco Pellizotti, as well as a half a dozen other minor players, aren't you? So either throw the bio passport out entirely and demand reputable A & B samples before any sanction is issued, or stop punishing riders for !@#$ you can't even show they did. Oh, *I* get it--it's *who* doesn't test positive that counts, now *whether* they test positive. Yep, you've convinced me you really care about eradicating doping by everyone! Credibility much, you dissembling weasels?
Quote o' the Week: finally, in addition to we love Dave Zabriskie's second on GC at the Tour of California today, he gets gigantic points for this masterful quote on learning that Floyd Landis (whose recent accusations about Lance have apparently been corroborated by the One's ex-wife) had slithered briefly into the sidelines at the ToC to apologize to an over-gracious Greg Lemond for his associate's boozy threat to presumptuously out a painful episode in Lemond's life and, one imagines, to take a nice long look at what he lost through his own venality: "He's here, really? Tell him I said hi. How's he doing?" How can you *not* love Dave Z?
Oh, wait, that's his hot sister. Anyway, here's the chaos: That's it, not *quite* clear on the slap but close enough for me and a passel o' swooning jurors, you're going DOWN, fuzzy-boy--Ivan, sue the !@#$*&!!
, then, after a Friday drop off the Col d'Aubisque, Saturday brings us 6 ugly climbs with a lively--and leg-mashing--finish on Plateau de Beille. 
Meanwhile, chin up, Cav--a few more years of crawling on your knees up these stages to make the time cut, and you'll be climbing mountains like Thor Hushovd, I promise!
Oh, come on--let's do it!
Oh wait, that's your hot sister. Well, you're still really, really pretty too!
How exactly do you type the noise where you bay like a heart-broken basset hound? Yeah, that!
Bravo Gibo dei tuoi tifosi americani, sei veramente un mito!
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