Peter Sagan: It's All About the Benjamins (Yeah!)

Pony Up, Tinkov!: so, it seems Oleg Tinkov hasn't *quite* got fan-frenzied babemeister Peter Sagan in the bag just yet: our hero tweeted today his head is "bursting" with thoughts of his future, among them Team Alonso, Astana, *and* Tinkoff-Saxo (Alonso, really?) Translation: pay up, Tinkov, I may have blown the Tour de France but I'm still the hottest man on the market! Oh, Oleg, you shoulda signed 'im when you got the 1000 re-tweets you asked for...

Roman Candle: meantime, after Oleg went on a(nother) twit-rampage over UCI's Kreuziger of poor Roman, his slightly calmer counterpart Stefan Feltrin penned an open letter to the rules-changing scumlords over at UCI, politely blasting new-gen chief Brian Cookson for inconsistency, hypocrisy, and general toolery. Even worse, they're WASTING MONEY PAYING THIS GUY NOT TO RACE, you cash-gouging bastards! Gentlemen and ladies, I think you oughta take this as the raindrop before the hurricane that it is, and free this poor kid to race before Oleg *really* gets pissed. Hell, he's terrifying enough when he's happy--and his boy Alberto's missing the Vuelta, too!

All Hail (No, Really, All Hail) the Peloton: finally, as we love Jens Voigt begins the second-to-last race of his professional career (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!) over at the Tour of Utah--with former Giro champ Ivan Basso and Tour winner Cadel Evans on hand, so a pretty smokin' field all round--the Tour of Poland's decided to beat both the Giro's pathetic snow, sleet, and freezing temps *and* the weakling Vuelta's sunspot immolation by pounding the riders with hail and sending the cold-soaked boys painfully to the tarmac. Wah, wah, you're hit with plunging balls of rock-sized ice, wah--don't you guys know that soccer players play when it SPRINKLES out?! And that sometimes other guys BRUSH INTO THEIR ANKLES?! Quit yer cryin' you babies!

And the Ardennes Are Off! Plus, Brad Wiggins Loves the Giro! He Swears It!

Czech-mate!: well, with all the hype over nowhere-to-be-seen Sagan and everywhere-to-be-seen world champ Gilbert (who would've been lovely for the win, but still), a fine run by Gerrans, a total !@#$ (and Tour-prep-hosing) crash for we love Purito Rodriguez nursing his left knee after he whacked into some dimwit who glued his wheel into deep mud at the side of the road, Valverde creeping everyone out as usual by grabbing the sprint for second, *and* a smashing long breakaway by Euskaltel's Mikel Astarloza of all people, it's SaxoBank's totally underrated Roman Kreuziger who grabs the win at Amstel Gold! Body count: besides poor Purito, a really nasty crash for Thomas "the Grimace" Voeckler, first rumored to have a broken femur, then a busted shoulder, then finally (for now) just a snapped collarbone. Get well soon, Thomas--it's so much more preferable watching you contort your face into a scream just, say, signing in to the race start! Here, proud teammate Alberto Contador with the insta-tweet: Congrats Roman!

If The Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie, That's Amore: meantime, not-defending Tour de France champ Brad Wiggins swears to Italy how much he really, really loves the Giro and really, really doesn't care about the Tour, particularly asserting he really, really has no interest in being one of those selfish losers who aspires to win the Tour de France two or even three times, and, to boot, he wouldn't even mind taking the Vuelta a Espana some day. Um, Brad, if you're riding the *Giro* this year because you're afraid the Tour's parcours don't suit you (and why you think the Giro *is* better for you is beyond me), have you taken a look at the *Vuelta's* all-vertical roads-o'-death the last couple of years? Of course, Froomey could always lug you uphill again, but damn, even he'd need some sled dogs or a scooter or a tractor to drag your !@# uphill all over Spain for the win. Now bow, *bow* to the noble Giro gods 'til they're convinced you're sincere enough to ride it, you ungrateful Tour-winning peon!

Aupa, Euskalteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel!: finally, despite the best efforts of that complete tool Pat "Dick" McQuaid, our dear if wholly discombomulated Euskaltel-Euskadi is back at last, ripping through the Vuelta a Castilla e Leon and, with Mikel's bitchin' break in Amstel today, finally building enough confidence to carry we love Samuel Sanchez to the Giro. Eat his dust in May, boys--remember, he's already been King of the Mountains at the Tour!

Game On at the Giro, Baby--For Most of 'Em, Anyway!

The GC Heats Up and Shakes Out: what an exciting day in the saddle, as Rodriguez Scarponi Basso (finally laying down the law on his own) and Hesjedal surge and the GC finally starts--but only just starts--to take shape. Still, Basso and Scarponi have a lot of time to make up, and Purito needs even more time on Hesjedal ahead of his inevitable monster suckage in the time trial--but damn, that kid is an all-terrain threat, and who doesn't love our neighbors in the Great White North? Forza Ryder--uh, Rodriguez--uh--oh, just let the best man win! Here, Scarponi's scramble to glom back on and the gruppetto's hotly contested run to the line:

Run, Roman, Run!: of course, the big loss today goes to Astana's really very talented Roman Kreuziger, schlepping in a humiliating 11-odd minutes back, dashing his much-hyped GC hopes and drawing the distinct ire of his directeur sportif, who's already suggesting he can kiss his team leadership goodbye. Y'know, that's a bummer and all, but what I'd *really* be afraid of is pissing off famously intemperate de facto Astana head Alexandre "I Will Gut You Like a Pig, You Failure!" Vinokourov--the hell with bicycles, Roman, steal a freakin' moto or something and get the hell outta there *now*!

My Besotted Uncynical Rah-Rah Moment: check it out--Euskaltel jailbait Jon "Rockstar" Izaguirre for the stage-16 win at the Giro in, for heck's sake, his first-ever Grand Tour debut. Suck that, you big-budget ProTour big-shots--and keep your dirty thieving money-dripping mitts off Euskaltel's talent you bastards!

Good News For RadioSkank (And Goodness Knows They Need It): no, not that desperate ostentatious bull!@#$ "nothin' to see here, move on folks!" love-fest between Frank Schleck and Johan Bruyneel--after the Crappiest Collarbone Break of All Time, Fabian Cancellara's mercifully back in action at the unfortunately named Bayern Rundfahrt, which means that between, say, him and Horner, they'll be able to salvage at least two wins for the squad at the Tour de France this year. Welcome back, Fabian--and please, stay safe and upright the rest of the season!