Pre-Tour Head Games! Hour Record Controversies! Doping Wisdom! #cycling

The Intimidation Begins: yep, Tinkoff-Saxo's struck the first big psychological blow of Tour de France 2015: they've unleashed their special Tour team kit, a blue-and-yellow tie-dyeish camo design that virtually declares war on Alberto Contador's pathetic rivals. Not to be outdone, defending champ Vincenzo Nibali's Astana squad has reportedly released its own team kit design, a simple white jersey with "!@#$ YOU TINKOV!" emblazoned across the front in giant red letters. As for Movistar, Alejandro Valverde has allegedly secretly paid millions of euros to an elite military contractor to develop a cloak of invisibility to allow him to bushwhack titular team leader Nairo Quintana without warning. When asked for his comments, Team Sky boss Dave Brailsford dismissed the entire brouhaha, opining, "Nothing can beat our sexy see-thru mesh skinsuits. Except maybe those guys in the neon mankini banana-hammocks who always run alongside the riders on Alpe d'Huez...Hey, Arvesen, get our kit manufacturer on the line!"

Hour of Power: in track news, Sir Brad Wiggins' blazin' immolation of the fabled Hour Record is now totally overwhelmed by two far more important issues: (1) fer God's sake, you *don't* wear long black socks with navy kit; and (2) banned-for-a-decade doping-conspiracy team leader Johan Bruyneel and former UCI prez Pat "Dick" McQuaid were observed at the event having a disturbingly friendly laugh together. !@#$, like no-one thought that they were doing that for the better part of Lance Armstrong's reign anyway? Oh, right, and in inconsequential news, Brad's bike was illegal so his entire hour record was meaningless and Alex Dowsett's gonna come back and beat the crap outta Wiggo's new record anyway. Yeah, but with all this drama, who's gonna be left to watch the attempt itself?

UCI Can't Believe This Is Happening Again: meanwhile, I see two Pro Continental riders have tested "non-negative" for human growth hormone and EPO respectively, which, in addition to the recent scourge of amateur doping in the sport, the uselessness of the biological passport, *and* the fact that hardly any WorldTour riders have tested poz since, well, Contador (sorry, fans!), clearly proves an inverse relationship between doping and success, in that only riders who already suck by comparison to their WorldTour compatriots are dopers, and all of the very top riders in the sport are clean. Cause and effect, honey--whew, I feel so much better about those WorldTour squads now!

Lookin' Good for Tejay!: finally, as the Tour de France GC contenders (minus Alberto and Nairo, of course) face off in the Dauphine, the more interesting question seems to be how much the team time trial is gonna hurt 'em in the quest for the final maillot jaune, because it was a loooong 34 seconds over 24.5k between Dauphine time trial champs BMC and, unfortunately, Chris Froome's Team Sky. Well, everyone gets one bad day--I don't doubt that here or in the Tour, Froomey'll be able to inflict some serious damage on at least a few of his rivals in the mountains!

Which the Hell One is Cav? It's a 2015 New-Team-Kit-O-Rama!

None More Black: look, there are certain eternal truths in this world: that Jens is a god, that Vino is a darling dangerous nutjob, and that AG2R's outfits're gonna always, always--despite the fact that brown is a lovely color--be butt-ugly. But sponsors 'n' team kits do change, and with black apparently being the new black this year, how the hell can you tell 'em apart so you know you're rooting for Cav not Kittel? Here!

Quick Step: Black, but with some lovely trademark blue to stand out. Lookin' sharp there, Manx Missile!

Giant-Alpecin: now I'm pretty sure "Alpecin" is some kinda gnarly dandruff shampoo, but surprisingly, they don't have snowflakes on their jerseys. What they do have: yep, black. The allegedly distinguishing feature: a coupla white stripes with a little red. Mark Cavendish, you better hope you don't see these guys in front of you!

Trek: uh-huh, black black black black black. All-business pinstripes on the bottom, and a let's-party white'n'red on the top. They may be down a Schleck, but they're back to business, and ready to get wild on the podium!

Lotto: if ya can't see Greipel because he's the size of Mount Everest, you still oughta be able to pick 'im out in the thundering herd stomp at line: the guy's gonna be a six-foot bumblebee. Black, yet so much more glaring!

Cannondale-Garmin: jaysus, still more black! Still, Vaughters being a rakish, argyle kinda guy, and Cannondale still harkening to the Liquigas of its past, they've still snuck that in with subtle lines of neon green. Tres chic!

Astana: god love Vinokourov, he's got 20 guys testing poz for dope a day and he *still* can't resist the urge to have his boys blindingly obvious targets for the narcs. Blue as Vino's eyes, with a little gold for his hair to boot. Good luck out there guys--just hope no-one's lookin' too closely!

Tinkoff-Saxo: sure, they went all camo stealth-mode for their training camps, but now Oleg wants the rest of the GC contenders to see the pain a-comin'. And Sagan, how dreamy!

Katusha: Purito IS SO A PODIUM CONTENDER! And you are SO GONNA NOTICE HIM PASSING YOU VALVERDE YOU S.O.B.! Red as the Vuelta jersey Rodriguez'll be taking on the final day. Go Puritooooooooooooooooo!

Movistar: alone among the garish braggadocio of the Grand Tour tough guys, wee Nairo Quintana and his demonic frenemy Alejandro Valverde are tick-tick-ticking up on you in subtle navy with a hint of green. See who snagged the center "power" spot in the photo?

BMC: screw you, you still haven't given we love Samuel Sanchez a contract--wallow in anonymity, or change your nasty ways!

Well, them's the biggies. Alberto, you know we'll be seeing you on top in Paris!

Yeah I'm Sorry/I Can't Afford a Ferrari/But That Don't Mean I Can't Get You There #cycling

I Guess He's Xbox/And I'm More Atari/But the Way You Play Your Game Ain't Fair: yes, just as Team Astana's still reeling from--what is it, 50?--of their assorted losers testing poz this year for banned substances, Gazzetta dello Sport reported that the narcs personally saw nefarious life-banned dop--uh, "training"--doc Michele Ferrari meeting with a pile of Astana's riders right outside their team hotel. *Jaysus*, Vino, you reckless cheapskate, you couldn'a' reserved 'em a freakin' conference room with a *door* on it for !@#$'s sake? The good news--press-beloved starlet/reigning Tour de France champ Vincenzo Nibali wasn't one of 'em. Well, great, so maybe he won't have any *domestiques* left for this year's race, but you don't actually need *them* to win the Tour, right? Dr. Ferrari, meanwhile, denounced the report as all-caps "MEDIA BULL!@#$" (but not being a delicate lady like myself, he actually spelled it out), saying (1) he was only in that town once in 1994 to try the famous waffles, and (2) by "to try the waffles," he does *not* mean "to try the product before I feed it to my clients." Thanks for the clarification, Michele! Oh, like it's gonna affect their prospects anyway--but *Jaysus*, Vino! Though if we love dear Purito says Astana oughta be able to ride, who are any of us to complain...

In Which My Entire Conception of the Universe Goes to Hell: meantime, we love Samuel "Holy Crap He's Always Gonna Be An Olympic Gold Medalist!" Sanchez sez he's open to the possibility of the Grand Tours being cut a bit, because it's "inhuman" to expect anyone to be able to ride all three at a high level. Well I don't !@#dammit, so guys can skip the stupid Tour if they want to ride the superior Giro or Vuelta! Oh, Samu, next you're gonna say they should take the cobbles outta Paris-Roubaix...okay, I'm clearly wrong about everything on the planet, now can someone give Samu a freakin' contract already?!

Lawsuit Alert!: finally, in the latest legal wrangling between Lance Armstrong and the US narcs, the---aiiiiigggggghhhhhhhh! Make it stop, I can't take it anymore! Aaaaaaaiiiiiiighhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Jaysus, Vino, Get (Back) With the Program!

Reality Check: look, let's be pragmatic here. Dopers gonna dope. But frankly, I expect a *lot* more efficacy and a *lot* less careless stupidity from a guy with as much d--uh, management experience as the great Alexander Vinokourov. Okay, you're no Lance Armstrong (or any then-Discovery rider, for that matter)--you did got popped once, at the end of a long and illustrious career--but *jeez*, Vino, at least you had *standards*! Your jailbait proteges getting nailed for half-wit amateur-hour bull!@#$ like steroids or EPO--it's inexcusable! Forget that you've got a !@#damn defending Tour de France champion to protect--it is just downright *embarrassing* for someone of your stature to have so many people in your crew get busted. Either show these punks how to plumb or shut off the faucet, pal! Oh Vino, my beloved Vino, have you no *pride* anymore?

An Honest Question for UCI (For Once)

And No Honest Answer Forthcoming, Of Course: all right, UCI, I may find your stupid disputes, petty favored-rider coddling, and total impotence annoying, but here's a sincere question for you: you've been crowing over the Italians' fearless pursuit of Alejandro Valverde for the last two years, so why the heck, with the Italians having just equally fearlessly kicked a whole squad out of the Baby Giro for allegedly having a bunch of suspicious medical supplies on hand, haven't you had the stones to take on Lance Armstrong's Astana (hell, even Caisse d'Epargne, and we know you already hate them) for allegedly doing the exact same thing (allegedly!) at the mildly more well-known and prestigious Tour de France last year? Now, before the fanatic Armstrong acolytes come out to screech at me, I'm sure, in addition to the whole rumor being entirely and completely false, either (1) one, some or all of the best athletes in the world at Astana were in fact so grossly debilitated by ailments every day that they couldn't make from the team bus to their hotel rooms without utilizing a surfeit of bizarre blood-related equipment or (2) some silly soigneur simply misread the word "aspirin" off the daily grocery list and inadvertently came home with the kind of stuff meth addicts usually have to break into hospitals to find. So truly--if this *did* seem legit enough for even the hated French to investigate, why isn't--particularly amidst their allegations of you schmoes being soft on dopers--UCI demanding that Johan's squad,like other teams not actually currently proven to be engaging in wrong-doing before it, be preemptively cut out of the Tour this year? Not that I'm suggesting it oughta be--I'm just genuinely curious. Well?

Down To Business: meantime, Contador certainly made his point to his former best-buddy-ever on the Alpe d'Huez this week--as a really smashing Janez Brajkovic clearly earned the overall--so with Lance looking on fine form at the Tour of Luxembourg and now at the Tour de Suisse, the question is, with Astana perhaps somewhat weaker as a whole but RadioSkank having likely lost crucial mountain goat Haimar Zubeldia to his broken wrist, who, a few weeks out, has got the edge for the Tour in July? Me, I'm so hoping either we love Levi Klodi or Horner is allowed a stage win instead I actually don't much care where their GC contender lands, so long as either Baby Schleck or even that aggravating rugrat Contador wipes the floor with 'im, but I gotta say, if Vino and Pereiro can hold it halfway together, I'm giving so far the slight bet on Alberto. So, in keeping with my fine tradition of losing choices, allez allez Schlecks!

Reading Is Fundamental: finally, class, for your summer vacation I'm going to assign you (because I'm too cheap to buy it, and I'm still saving up for Simoni's book, besides which the brash child ought to have *some* consolation for losing the green jersey at the Tour de France to Thor Hushovd *again* this year) Mark Cavendish's wildly-anticipated and splendiforously-received new tome, Boy Racer: My Journey to Tour de France Record-Breaker." While again, I can't personally speak for the contents, I *can* say on the "Surprise Me!" selection I pulled up on Amazon, I did learn more than one had ever anticipated about a top pro cyclist's breast-feeding and potty-training competitive streaks. Congratulations on your literary debut, Cav--and far better an autobio from you than another, say, Landis book!

I Call Bull!@#$, Astana!

You're Freakin' Me Out, Vinokourov: okay, let's get my shameful hypocrisy out of the way first: I often rather love Vinokourov because although he's an unrepentant doping pig, he's at least honest (well, open) enough (despite today's uncharacteristic denials)to wholly embrace it on the grounds that so still are most of his serious competitors, so anyone who's whining about it can look themselves in the mirror while they're jamming a syringe in their !@# and screw. Plus--and unfortunately, no doubt because he's still (allegedly!) a doping pig--there's a certain Ullrichian imminent-catastrophe quality to his racing that is, to say the least, lively to watch. That said, is it too much to ask that (1) he not be so counterproductively ostentatious about (allegedly!) it that he doesn't leave Contador with a third-rate pile of Kazakh packfiller to domestique him at the Tour and (2) at least *one* cyclist gets to win *something* who's clean? In fact, if that punk Valverde weren't also up there at Liege today to obliterate any chance whatsoever of fair play and leave those of us who prefer clean sport to look so much farther down the ranks for a genuine podium, and if Jens Voigt didn't entirely distract me by being smashing to watch for most of the race yet again, I'd be a whole lot more !@#$ed off. Anyone else thinking that if Vino doesn't get busted in the next 13 days we might as well just tattoo the final maglia rosa on his chest before the Giro d'Italia even starts?

Don't Do It, Gibo!: meanwhile, after Simoni had an entirely understandable so go to hell shaky start to his season at the Giro di Trentino, I am flipping out at the possibility that, rather than lose on his beloved Zoncolan, he's going to hang up his jersey instead of dope-sma--I mean, sticking around to help bestest pal Damiano Cunego at least pull off a stage win. Come back, Gilberto--even when you're acting nice, you're still a much more fun interview than anyone else in the Italian peloton! Which brings us to another question: what the !@#$ happened to Pellizotti in Trentino--I mean, I know he's aiming at the Tour and all, but is he really going to let that Teen Beat darling Basso stomp all over him in front of fans and press who already discount him for the entire month of May? Pull it together Franco!

Sister Sister: speaking of Basso, I surprisingly see no mention on his twitter feed about his dear sister's impending trial for trafficking in sports-doping products, presumably because he had the discretion to seek out the good stuff from other sourc--that is, because they are now estranged over their entirely different philosophies with regard to good sportsmanship. Does it strike anyone else as curious that, a few unfortunate and minor-player exceptions aside, it's the wives and girlfriends that are always going down for this rather the jerks who actually take their stuff to win? Kill the messenger, whydontcha--I suppose it's a lot less embarrassing than having to clear the ranks of half the cyclists!

Fuyu Is Right: Team RadioSkank, of course, is still reeling from the colossal misstep of Clenbuterol-snarfing Fuyu Li, who ought to know at a minimum that he's not supposed to test positive until, like everyone else who ever (super)domestiqued for Lance, he's already left the One's precious fold. Like utterly-whipped repeat podium finisher Andreas Kloden *needs* to lose the one guy he could actually pull rank on to send back for water bottles? Arrrgghhh!

Like a Fine Wine, But She Can Beat You *Down*, Honey: finally, just an encouraging nod to the French, who have at least one rider they can count on not to suck year after year after year: yep, it's permanent French champ/new autobio author Jeannie Longo, reportedly considering what to do after her cycling days are over but who luckily has at least another generation to finalize her plans. Allez allez Jeannie--and for heck's sake, can't somebody take her to the Tour de France start line with the boys?