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!

My Fantasy Team Astana/UCI Press Conference

Alexandre Vinokourov: Good afternoon. We're here today to discuss UCI's controversial decision not to strip Team Astana of our WorldTour license, despite a string of doping busts that make the entire US Postal squad look like they were just poppin' a few Tic-Tacs for some extra race-day pep. First, I'd like to say, NEENER NEENER NEENER! Further--(aide taps him on shoulder, hands him phone)--dammit, I *told* you only to call me on that untraceable disposable cell phone! No, not *that* !@#$, the *other* !@#$! (hands back phone)--I'd like to point out that I've been firmly assured by UCI that this decision had absolutely nothing to do with my omnipresent screaming threat to rat every other team out and bring the entire !@#$ing hypocrite WorldTour down with me if I have to spend one more !@#$ing minute listening to this total hypocrite scapegoat bull!@#$ about *my* squad. Right, Brian?

Brian Cookson (smiles brightly): That's right, Vino! This decision had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this entire sport would collapse, *again*, if you actually followed through with your threat!

AV: Additionally, the UCI's decision had nothing whatsoever to do with the incredibly powerful Tour de France organizers looking like a pack of complete incompetent !@#holes if the TV coverage every day had to run embarrassing Landis-esque recaps of why the 2014 Tour champ Vincenzo Nibali of Team Astana wasn't there to defend his title. Right, Brian?

BC (smiles brightly): That's right, Vino! This decision had nothing whatsoever to do with the Tour de France looking like a pack of incompetent !@#holes when the TV coverage runs an endless series of reminders why the defending Tour de France champion isn't there!

AV: Well, at least we never injected baby formula into our veins or whatever weird quack-doctor !@#$ Van Avermaet or whoever was accused of doing, ha ha! Finally, I wish to address UCI's warning that they will, instead of actually *doing* anything, be "watching us carefully" from now on. Hey, UCI, watch this! (pulls pants down, moons audience)

Sins of the Fleche; and, Watch Your #$!, Alberto Contador!

Piti Party: all right, own up you lying liars: Valverde's second consecutive win at a crash-marred Fleche-Wallone creeped the hell outta you too, as does the fact that this freak continues to podium straight through the entire season with no variations in form in every kind of race on every kind of terrain except--maybe--a pancake-flat sprint. !@#$, Valverde, you *want* you and everyone else on Movistar being assaulted by rubber-gloved narcs with giant needles in the middle of every freakin' night the rest of the season? Come to think of it, why aren't they doing that to you already? Oh, !&$! it, if it weren't for his Official Annual One-Stage Grand Tour Meltdown he'd already have the maillot jaune locked up in Paris...

Hard to Porte: meantime, right as Fabio Aru's epically incapacitating (and disgusting) stomach bug may already be screwing him out of the Giro, leaving Nibali to pick up team leadership (tho' a late tweet from Aru sez he's back on the bike, however shakily)--particularly in case Astana's adventures in pharmaceutical experimentation keep Nibs outta the Tour--now key Contador Giro rival Richie Porte is clearly en fuego, smashing the field at the lovely Giro del Trentino with an uphill victory. Y'know, Alberto, I *get* that Oleg Tinkov is still distracted chasin' Peter Sagan around in a hockey mask with a chainsaw over his monster Classics fail. But I hope your top-secret training regime is going precisely to plan, honey, because even Sagan might outsprint Oleg eventually and leave you as his next B-movie horror-show target if you can't step up to resounding success in both May and July. Climb, for God's--well, your--sake, *climb*!

Allez PhilGil!: finally, speedy recovery to an already Amstel-sore we love Samuel Sanchez and Philippe "Please Please Please Win Liege" Gilbert, who both hit the deck today alongside approximately half the peloton at Fleche, and whom I would desperately like to kick the rest of the field's !@# in Liege. The rest of you, same get-well wishes and best of luck--but I still hope Gilbert stomps you in the race! PS Don't worry Purito you still did great!

Oh, man, this is still somehow *so* disturbing....

On Being on a Bike Tour in Mallorca with a Rarin' Pack of Aussies: So Why Do *You* Ride? #whyyouride

Okay, to be precise, by "being on a bike tour" I mean "chillin' in the van watching the astonishing landscape sprint by while a pack of crazy Aussies and Americans actually ride these ginormous mountains", but I was being there all the same, and since I was asked to and I promised I would I ask: so why do *you* ride? Companionship? Fitness? Personal challenge? The perfect communion of person and machine? Slightly disconcerting sheer love of the pain cave? Me, I ride to go get truly superlative ice cream. So...what's your excuse?

Now Win Flanders For Me, Sagan, Or I'll Grind You Into Dog Meat!: It's Your Ronde in Preview! #rvv

No Pressure: let's face it: our little Sagz has lost some of his joie de vivre. Whatever tactical sense he had has disappeared like a dirtbag ahead of a drug test, he's got squat in the tank when he needs it most, and the poor kid's been so down he hasn't even had the heart to pop a wheelie onto Contador's head. So you've got *one* day to get your mojo back before your desperate boss Oleg goes completely crazy-!@# on your overpaid overhyped has-been butt--but no pressure!

Oh Tommeke!: and, it goes without saying that a Flanders without Boonen and Cancellara is a party without a cake, so while I dry my maudlin tears and grab a cold one to scream my head off watching everyone else slug it out, I gotta say, I know furry bad-!@# Luca Paolini's justly working for strongman Alexander Kristoff and all, but if *I'd* just won Gent-Wevelgem in total dominating fashion, I'd be sending that guy back to the team car to get me a refreshing lemonade while the rest of squad carried me on my shoulders on a palanquin all the way to the line up at the front of the race tomorrow, which, among other issues like a complete lack of athletic ability, is why I'm a selfish !@#hole and not an incredible gracious cycling champion. So this leaves us with a wide-open race with a slew of guys who've been absolutely blossoming in the absence of Fabs and Tommeke's long shadows, like just-dented John Degenkolb, Van Avermaet, Stybar, gutsy E3 Harelbeke winner Geraint Thomas, and former shock champ Stijn Devolder, as well as, well, realistically, everybody else in the peloton from Belgium. My dark-horse fave? Niki Terpstra. My guilty-pleasure-no-chance-in-hell-but-I-still-love-to-watch-him-anyway? The all-style GQ king Pippo Pozzato. Still, forza grande Luca!

The Forecast: 48 F and sunny. Like even *that's* gonna help you poor bastards!

Ow, !@#$!: finally, your course map is here, and while it's gonna be a bangin' bucket o' excitement from start to finish for us, it is, as always, a study in total !@#$ing bone-jarring suffering for the peloton, including three trips up the Kwaremont, a spin up the Paterberg, and, of course, the fearsome pave of the Koppenberg. Me, I'm hoping someone smashes apart a potential bunch sprint by a daring far-out attack. And to remind you, like you needed it, here, your tribute to Fabs' decisive 2014 victory, as the big guy (get well soon!) brings it in:

So good luck boys--both winning the race, and just plain staying upright in one (especially your collarbones) piece--let the pain and glory begin!

My Fantasy Oleg Tinkov/ Team Tinkoff-Saxo Press Conference

OT (takes podium with entire Tinkoff-Saxo squad kneeling before him): Good morning. I've called you all here today to stroke my insatiable need for attention and to address the recent rumors that, despite a couple of minor early-season victories from my chief riders that have done nothing to bring me the glory that is rightfully mine, something is very wrong here at Team Tinkoff-Saxo. First, let me say, nothing is wrong at all. Instead, we have cannily been distracting you and our fiercest rivals from our inevitable immediate sweep of each of the remaining Monuments, every one of the Grand Tours, and all other races by completely sucking so far this season. Hah, I can see we've already psyched you out, you gullible weaklings!

Second, to extent anything *is* wrong over here at Casa Oleg, it is absolutely and utterly everyone else's fault but mine. !@#&, what's the point of throwing more money than God at everyone who looks good on paper in the cycling world if you can't unjustly blame them for the way I'm handling the team? At the same time, until my minions can find a way to completely screw him financially and professionally, I also want to express my complete support for Bjarne Riis. ALRIGHT I'VE SUPPORTED YOU, NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT OR I'LL REALLY "SUSPEND" YOU, YOU INCOMPETENT IDIOT!

Finally, I am here today to announce my great and dazzling plan to fix this team. Henceforth, *I*, Oleg Tinkov, will be the *sole* rider in every race. Therefore, I will be my own team captain, superdomestique, sprinter, lead-out train, and bottle-carrying workhorse. I CAN CLIMB THE !@#$ING ALPS BEFORE THAT ALSO-RAN CONTADOR CAN EVEN FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET HIS BIB SHORTS ON IN THE MORNING, I WILL CRUSH YOU AT THE TOUR DE FRANCE FROOME YOU OVERHYPED PIECE OF !@#$!

This of course leaves you wondering what will happen to those team members who are still under contract until they generously agree to rip them up or I break their knees off. Be assured, each team member will be assigned roles fully in keeping with his million-euro superstar status and particular talents. Peter Sagan, being so fast in the sprint, will fetch me my coffee from Starbucks first thing each morning. (Sagan runs up to him with small cup) I SAID *FOURTEEN* SHOTS OF ESPRESSO, YOU IGNORANT WORM! (throws it in Sagan's face) Alberto Contador, with his peerless stamina and climbing ability, will be in charge of carrying my luggage up to and down from the 14th-floor penthouse suite of my hotel each day until he proves to me he's sorry for making me look like a total asshat in front of everybody. And of course Bjarne, with his great tactical expertise, will be in charge of keeping everyone's dirty cycling clothes properly sorted, washed, and returned to their owners in neatly labeled laundry bags by 4 a.m. each race-day morning. DOES THAT EXPENSIVE RAPHA SOCK LOOK LIKE SOMETHING I WOULD DEIGN TO LET THAT BLOCKHEAD PETER WEAR WHILE HE STILL FAILS SO BADLY? HE'LL WEAR UNBEARABLY ITCHY SACKCLOTH KIT UNTIL FLANDERS IS MINE, MINE, MINE!

This concludes our morning press conference. Thank you for coming and I am truly humbled by your attendance. NOW KEEP YOUR EYES GLUED TO MY TWITTER FEED UNTIL I POST A PICTURE OF MYSELF LEAPING SAFELY BACK TO EARTH FROM THE INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION WITHOUT SOME WUSSY LITTLE "PARACHUTE" OR "OXYGEN" FIFTEEN MINUTES AND FORTY SECONDS FROM NOW, YOU COWERING LIFELESS LEECHES!

!#$!, What's the Return Policy on a 6.3 Million Euro Pro Cyclist Again? Oleg Tinkov Freaks Out

Desperado: yeah, it's lookin' desperate over at Rancho Tinkoff all right, as rakish-n-almost-resultsless Peter Sagan blows Oleg's--uh, his own--first big goal of the season at Sanremo with an indifferent 4th and, at the start of his second pre-Tour showdown with Chris Froome at the Volta a Catalunya, Giro-Tour double hope Alberto Contador sez he's got a baaaad cold, so don't expect too much outta him either. Translation: the team is !@#$ed, Oleg's got no idea what to do about it, Bjarne's sacked, and Oleg's now gotta figure out some non-mutilating way to inspire his high-paid starlets but quick. !@#$, Oleg, if Alberto can't handle one cold day at Tirreno this year, what the hell do think a full-on blizzard at the Giro is gonna do to his Tour chances? Dammit, am I the only one thinkin' that if the season gets on this way, we're just gonna have Froomey and Nairo for the final maillot jaune in Paris, and that freak Valverde is gonna nail the 3d spot on the podium *again*? Fix this Oleg--I don't know if we can take this !@#$ much longer!

Degen-Stone-Kolb-Killer: meantime, the glow hasn't quite yet faded off the fine John Degenkolb's Milan-Sanremo triumph, and with this smashing run to the line after half the faves went down on the Poggio, it's easy to see why. Nice job big guy--and Cav, feel better next year!

Electric Avenue: and, after a scathing report excoriating the biopassport as a handy doping baseline (told ya), TUEs as total bull!@#$, and new-gen doping pounding the crap obsolete testing equipment, UCI's taking serious action: testing 36 *bikes* for mechanical doping at Milano-Sanremo. For !@#$'s sake, you oughta be looking for the needle marks on the riders' !@#es, not the wiring in the !@#$ing top tubes! And we *don't* need you clowns giving certain riders who creep the hell outta the whole lot of us any freakin' ideas while we're at it...

When *I* Was a Whippersnapper, Fausto Coppi Got Eaten By a Yeti On the !&#$in' Stelvio, and He *Liked* It!

To the Extreme: alright, screw that masochistic cyclist hard-man crap--not only are notorious softies like Pippo Pozzato tweeting their outrage, even tough-guy Fabian Cancellara's finally had enough, and is calling bull!@#$ on extreme-weather stages like Tirreno-Adriatico's frozen Stage 5 to Terminillo because of some ridiculous wussmeister concern like the riders' "health and safety." What a pack a' whinin' weenies! "My !@# is frozen to the saddle" this, "I'm too numb to grip the handlebars on this icy deadly descent" that! Do you know how much you're getting *paid* to catch a slobbering cold virus for a month for our selfish pervert entertainment while we cheer you on from the comfort of our heated road-side campers, or splosh our hot cocoa right on the tray-table by the TV in gutted sympathy when you're passed within a few meters of the line? We're in *agony* here you crybabies! Oh, the soul's just gone out of the sport if it's gonna be about who's the best at basic ol' "bike riding" from now on....c'mon Pippo, you're just pissed you had to cover up your tats!

Well, I See That Little Pep Talk With the Hired Goons and the Cattle Prod Worked: and, welcome back to the Saganator, outlasting the rest of sprinters on yet another miserably crappy day at Tirreno and taking his first win of the year at last, with the generously-credited help of teammate Alberto Contador. Well well, maybe he *is* gonna pull it together for an all-out slaughterfest at the Classics this year. Amazing what a little "chat" with an unhappy fat-walleted Oleg Tinkov can do--now Contador, don't *make* him have to talk to you about handling the cold weather properly at the Giro!

What? She's Not Bionic?: Finally, best wishes for a speedy recovery to--no, it can't be possible--the indestructible Marianne Vos, who apparently has pulled a mortal human "hamstring", further dashing the last hope of the entire peloton that the whole reason she's able to kick everyone's !@# with such relentless perfection is that she's actually mechanically a military-grade clandestine-project android. Yeah, she can still probably wipe the floor with everybody--just count yerselves lucky someone else besides her gets to win a race or two this year!

Aw, Crap, Chaingate *Again*? I Thought Schleck and Contador Were Through With This !#$!; And, Pony Up Already, Sagan!

The Neverending Story: yep, just when you thought you'd finally heard the last of the whining over evil Alberto Contador attacking innocent Andy Schleck when he dropped his chain in a hapless mechanical and nefariously stealing that Tour de France, the same stupid !@#$ing thing is being yapfested about agai...oh, wait, this is *Cavendish*, today, at Tirreno, wholly accidentally taking out rival Elia Viviani over what Quick Step is now saying is a repeat chain-drop problem that blew Cav's nearly inevitable win at the sprint. Whoa moly, anyone know if Cav's mechanic's okay after Mark no doubt flew at him like some rabid snarling toothy badger to chew his face off? Whoever he is, I'm sure if he's not *too* roughed up, that the problem's been analyzed and damn well fixed--or else! Here, the carnage: Feel better soon, Elia!

There's Buyer's Remorse, And There's 12 million !@#$in' Euros of Buyers' Remorse: meantime, a day after Alberto Contador thanked Oleg Tinkov for his new-signed 2016 contract by bonking at the opening Tirreno-Adriatico time trial, fellow pampered flower Peter Sagan woofed yet *again* by blowing the sprint at Tirreno today, but luckily, Oleg was so charmed by Peto's wacky post-race antics that he only *threatened* to wrap 'im up like a mummy and trebuchet him across the next sprint finish line like some creepy-!@# spandex medieval missile. Just ask Alberto, Peter--batting those eyelashes is only gonna get you so far, honey! Still, panicked Tinkov minion/cycling impresario Bjarne Riis is urging everyone not to panic over Sagan's impending Classics season just yet, which he paradoxically did by pointing out how much better than him everyone else who's in contention already is this year. Jaysus, Oleg, you're already putting Alberto under freakish pressure having him try to be the first sap to win the Giro-Tour double since the allegedly more, well, highly-provisioned era--you're really still gonna screw him by putting one pedal stroke of the Tour squad's effort behind this showoff? Oh, Sagan'll take his first win of the season soon enough, and you'll melt like buttah on hot popcorn--Alberto, you'd better start vying a little harder for Oleg's affection right about now!

Narcs That Go Bump in the Night: and, in the wake of the CIRC report, the debate rages on over UCI's threat to jack up middle-of-the-night dope testing for exhausted random riders during major races, not only leading to a deluge of hotel mini-fridges mysteriously ditched in dumpsters during Grand Tour season, but a web-clogging increase in desperate Google searches asking "who was that guy who got out of a positive by saying he was doing the nasty that time?" Me, I actually very much sympathize with some poor clean schmo whose hopes for a next-day stage win are dashed by rubber-gloved goons wrecking his much-needed sleep in search of some guilty doping assclown. Oh well, that's the unjust price of cycling purity, I guess--and lucky that at least a few 'em of 'em are already taking sedatives according to that CIRC report!

French Press: finally, congrats to the wily French Cycling Federation, using the lame excuse of 'making sure nobody was doping' to screw reigning Tour de France champ Vincenzo Nibali out of a cool half million euros in prize money 'til they're sure he, and the winners of a wunk of other 2014 French races, deserves the money. So, with retroactive testing improvements and all, you're planning on paying the poor guy when, when his senior citizen pension vests? I mean, I get messing around with the small if unimpeachale Nibali's head and bank account, if you're a total jerk and all--but really, bigger guys like Niki Terpstra? On wing span alone that guy could wring the money outta you by force!

In Which I Read That Damn CIRC Report, So You Don't Have To #circ

1. Alberto Contador--too darn cute to prosecute!

2. Hein Verbruggen & Pat McQuaid: love means never having to say "you're guilty."

3. 20%, 90%, who cares? It couldn't possibly be the guys who are winning now!

4. Dr. Michele Ferrari--good !@#$. Dr. Eufemiano Fuentes--the *really* good !@#$.

5. Mmmm, Mmmm, Omerta!

6. Systemic team doping: out. Individual members comprising entire teams who totally coincidentally use the exact same team doctors, products, and doping regimens: in.

7. Corticosteroids: such total bull!@#$ even *we* can't justify these guys using 'em. Wait, *who's* still taking them?

8. Lab Equipment: so what if it hasn't been updated since 1976?

9. The Biological Passport: I didn't know how much I *could* get away with until you told me. Thanks, guys!

10. Crashes: not just for Tyler Farrar anymore. It's the drugs, too!

11. Lance Armstrong: yep. Still an !@#$^%$!

12. Brian Cookson: he can't be doing any worse than *those* !@#$in' clowns!

Well, I'm humbled and delighted if that's two hours outta your lives I just saved you, my dear readers--now, with Paris-Nice and Tirreno on hand, it's time to get back to the races!

My Fantasy Alexander Vinokourov/Vincenzo Nibali Press Conference #cycling

VN: Good morning. I've called you here today to address the recent news that UCI is seeking to strip Astana of its ProTour license due to alleged severe, systemic doping problems within the team. First, I want to say that I had no idea Alexander Vinokourov ever had anything--*anything*--to do with doping before I joined this squad. In fact, due to the fact that I've stuck my fingers in my ears closed my ears and yelled "LA LA LA LA" whenever Vino came into a room, I haven't even spoken to him or heard anything he's said to me for the last five years. I also haven't read any newspapers, looked at any websites, paid attention to any press conferences, or talked or listed to anyone in the entire pro cycling world, including my own teammates managers soigneurs team-bus drivers medical personnel or espresso guys, at any time from the date of my birth to and through today. So this is, like, a total shock to me.

Second, if Alexander Vinokourov or any of the approximately eighty-six riders and other Astana staff members were in fact involved in doping in any way, I personally had absolutely nothing to do with it, and have been completely clean my entire career. Of course, it doesn't take much to look clean next to the cheating scumbags that make up the rest of this sport! But seriously, in case anyone out there in ProTour land has a few million euros to spend on their rosters this time of year--or, y'know, one of your less-impressive grand tour leaders should have a catastrophic mechanical failure, or come down with the flu, or get a really really gross painful saddlesore--I'm available, so...(makes little ringing-phone gesture next to ear)

Finally, I want to assure you all that as the reigning champion of the Tour de France, I am confident that, even with Astana's current legal woes, we will be granted a Wild Card for the Tour this year and I will be--successfully, I assure you--defending my title. Wait--what? (Puts hand to ear to listen to journalist question) *No*, you mother!@#$er, Froome and Contador crashed out last year, *I'm* the !@#$ing reigning Tour de France champion! Now I'm going to pass things along to this guy next to me I barely even know. Vino?

AV: Good morning. First, I'd like to say that, despite my well-documented and extensive history of sophisticated world-class doping and familiarity with all the cutting-age techniques of any era, I am outraged that any of you think I didn't have my personality totally erased by futuristic robot technology like in that Schwarzenegger movie and replaced with an innocent Disney princess the instant I became a team founder and manager.

Second, I had *no* idea those dumb-!@# Iglinskiy brothers were taking EPO. I mean, there is *so* much better !@#$ out there, what is this, !@#$ing !@#$-squad crap-rider neo-pro amateur hour? Who do you think I am you !@#holes, I would *never* let them take that chump-change !@#$! much less get caught for it! What's more, I have no idea where any of this Padova !@#$ that Brian Cookson is hinting at is coming from. Not only was it geographically inconvenient, that was all Lampre's gig, right, so why are you bitching to me about it, it is so *not* *fair*!

Last but not least, I just want to remind you that if *I* go down, I am taking *all* you !@#$ing hypocrites and your !@#$ing hypocrite families friends associates and family Labrador Retrievers with me, so say goodbye to all your careers you !@#$ing bastards! Yeah, that's right, Vincenzo, you smirking little clean-sport poster-boy, that means you too, keep talking smack you worthless little !@#$! (lunges towards Nibali, press corps hastily clears room as Vino and Nibs start rolling on floor throwing punches)

Omloop-de-loop: It's Classics Season, Beeyotches! And, E3 Harelbeke Fixes It All #cycling

Woot Woot!: yes, cycling fans, now that the peloton's had the chance to stretch their legs, test their form, explode their tires and get sand-whipped into whimpering nubs by the early-season desert races, it's time for Belgian Classics season to begin, and we're off with the teaser Omloop Het Nieuwsblad on Saturday, and the thrillin' Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne on Sunday. Contenders: first, last year's respective champs surprise Ian Stannard, and TOM !@#$IN' BOONEN baby! Other hunters: Greg Van Avermaet, Sep Vanmarcke, Niki Terpstra (don't even think of screwing Tommeke, twerp!), Mark Cavendish, basically every other rider in Belgium, and, ever-hopeful but rather-tippy Tyler Farrar. Me, I'd completely dig Tyler stomping the naysayers, but we love Tom apparently hasn't Omloop on his palmares, so that's who I'm rooting for for Saturday. Allez allez Tornado Tooooooom! Here, he bags (of course) Kuurne last year: Toooooooooooom!

TuttoBitchin': and, what a thrilla to see our beloved Boston get a shout-out from our beloved Tuttobiciweb, in the form of an intrepid cyclist's snow-tunnel: Or wait, is the Stelvio stage from last year's Giro? Naw, that guy's way too big to be Nairo...

T!@s and A!@: finally, huge redemption by the fine gents at E3 Harelbeke, who, after their grossly offensive and piglike ad featuring a distinctly unhilarious riff on Peter Sagan's ol' grab-!@# routine, showed their true and sensitive understanding of the issue by pulling the adv--uh, REMOVING THE UCI LOGO FROM THE AD. When confronted about the continued use of the picturesque banners, baffled Harelbeke chief Hugh Hefner responded, "of *course* it's sexy!" Sex*ist*, sex*ist*, you irredeemable clown!

Froome Wins Round 1! Cav v. Sagan at Sanremo! And, How Not to Help Women's Cycling

Holy Flailing Windmill Hell: well, if you think Alberto Contador's psyched out by the ungainly Chris Froome's blazing stage and overall win/showdown at the Ruta del Sol, think again, suckers: he's *sticking* with his Giro/Tour double plan, *and* he's confident he'll win 'em both. So what if he'll still be exhausted from the Giro--it's not like he's really wanting to aim for the Tour, right? Oh, for the day when the Tour de France is rightly the also-ran, and the dear perfect Giro gets the glory....

I Dream of Sanremo: and, just as Oleg Tinkov has made it extremely clear he'll personally disconnect Peter Sagan's so-far-lackluster limbs off if he doesn't win Milano-San Remo, none other'n last year's quasi-funk/this season's rocket renaissance Mark Cavendish has wistfully opined to the Italian press that winning it is not only a dream, but also a pretty major goal, for this season. Dang, Peter, you better *hope* you can bunny-hop over Tinkov's head and the hell outta Dodge if you can't turn Cav's dream into a nightmare this year--but only if you value your continued employment, I suppose!

Advertising for !@#holes: finally, congrats to the backwards inbred troglodyte pigs who designed the Neanderthal ad for this year's upcoming E3 Harelbeke, which perfectly exemplifies the blood, sweat, and bicycles of, y'know, *bike racing* by showing a disembodied hand reaching for a disembodied women's porn-star !@# in what appears to be some pervy cheerleader outfit. Who runs that !@#$ing agency, Larry Flynt? Anywho, in the spirit of equality which has so recently, and not actually, taken hold in pro cycling, here's *my* new ad for the Giro Rosa: the bronzed, oiled, Photoshopped iron-abs of Peter Sagan and Fabian Cancellara in tighty-whities curled adoringly at the feet of Marianne Vos as she holds the winner's trophy aloft on the podium. Think they'd feel that's appropriate? Okay, Sagan probably would, but....!@#$, people! Here, the women of Wiggle-Honda are riding their freakin' bikes, you socially-stunted frat-mavens:

Contador vs. Froome vs....Uh, That Other Guy! Sagan vs. Cavendish! Sir Brad's Sartorial Splendor! Jeeeeeeens!

Hell-ooooooooo! Defending Champ Over Here!: yes, the media hype over the Alberto Contador-Chris Froome faceoff at the Tour de France, and diplomatically complimentary smack-talk, has already begun, as the two boys get a trial crack at each other at the Ruta del Sol this week and poor Vincenzo Nibali has to go on the offensive to remind everyone he's actually the defending !@#$ing Tour winner and, like anyone cares, his form is already pretty good and he's tranquillo about his chances in July. Well, hell, Nibs, it's not like you're even gonna be a marked man apparently, you might as well just take the maillot jaune while those two are distracted getting fawned over! I swear, the man can't get *no* respect...

Pick It Up, Peter!: geez, Sagan, not only did Oleg Tinkov pay out the nose for the Holy Grail of Your Royal Wheelieness this season, but with Alberto Contador threatening to retire in 2016 so Oleg can't make him do the Giro-Tour-Vuelta deathmarch--uh, so he can retire at the top of his game--you're all Tinkov's got now, honey, so if you don't start to step up from this 7th place bull!@#$ and win him (forget "win yourself") a good brace of Monuments this season, you're gonna find you'll be suddenly getting paid 3.4 million euro a year just to follow Oleg around disposing of his dirty tissues and wiping his rear end. Meantime, I don't wanna disturb you or Marcel Kittel as he relaxes over at the hair salon with a hot cup of tea and a Cosmo, but Mark Cavendish has been, despite some fine early-season competition, on a hell of a tear, with the added bonus that, should you actually be about to beat him in a sprint on the merits, he can and will rip your derailleur off with teeth within a wheel's-width of the line. I take back every doubt I had about you Cav--at least until Marcel's all done with his blow-out!

Wiggo's Got a Brand New Bag: meanwhile, big style points to baby team boss Sir Bradley Wiggins, who's debuted a stylin' new jersey for his nascent squad that's far superior to the boring (and confusing) black of most'a' the ProTour this year. Special feature: press the target logo on the chest, and it chirps, "*Sure*, I'll help Froomey win the Tour!" Oh, just keep rubbin' salt in old wounds there, Brad...

Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeens!: finally, giant kudos to our fine local bike shop for hosting an entirely bitchin' Q&A with the entirely bitchin' Jens Voigt yesterday. My dear Contador and Cancellara swooners, I get it--never have I seen so many grownups, myself included, share so much in common with a shrieking stadium full of sugar-stoked tween idol fans. Yep, I'm a Belieber--thank you Jens and Cycle Loft!

Blood Bags of Christmases Past! Hushovd's Gonna Knock You Out! Tinkov's Gonna Announce Something Big!

I'll Slap You In the Mouth, I'm Thor Hushovd!: he may be retired, but his influence reigns supreme (or he still has some, anyway)--yes, amiable retiree Thor Hushovd was apparently so irked at angelic Edvald Boassen-Haagen-Dasz's potential signing with the skanky lot over at Saxo Bank last year that he threatened to smack him in the mouth. Geez, Thor, if only you'd threatened to squash him with a magic hammer, you really *would* be the Thunder God! Still, it was apparently enough for Edvald to sign instead with the bitchin' MTN-Qhubeka, leading, according to Norwegian TV, for intemperate team oligarch to tweet menacingly: "Then I saw another side of him, which I had not seen before. Then I thought that maybe it was not so gæernt that I went there, tell rudsbygd no." I don't know what the hell he's saying to you Edvald, but I'd say stay way outta his way this year!

I Want to Dope Your Blooooooooooood: and *just* when you thought you'd escaped from the dark days of 2006 to the cheat-less cycling of today, there's still a *whole* lotta Nervous Nellies left from the "old school" frantically checking to make sure they got their bio passport tweaked right the first time: yes, there's still time for angry narcs to get their mitts on the old Operacion Puerto blood bags. When contacted by the Imaginary Racejunkie News Service, 2014 WorldTour champ/multiple race winner Alejandro Valverde reportedly jeered, "suckerrrrrrrrrrrrrrs!" Oh, I'm *so* glad there's been hardly no problems since then....

Is It Sagan? Is It Contador? Is It Just the Megalomaniacal Rantings of a Publicity-Starved Lunatic?: meantime, as Oleg Tinkov muses that (1) Contador might retire after winning the Giro-Tour double at the end of 2015 and that (2) Peter Sagan better win both Flanders and San Remo this year or he won't quite *kill* 'im, but he *will* !@#damn !@#$ him up, our tender wallflower has proclaimed via Twitter he's gonna announce the "biggest news ever" at the official presentation of Tirreno-Adriatico. Oh, !@#$, he's bought the ENTIRE !@#$ING PELOTON--watch out sprinters, he's gonna make you all bear him around in some gaudy golden palanquin, with Sagan and Contador as his pressure-smacked cash-cows you poor schmucks are all just superfluous now...

That's Right, It's Bike *Racing*!: finally, even though the bangin' Niki Terpstra actually won the time trial at Tour of Qatar today, apparently, everyone just wants gratuitous photos of Fabian Cancellara: But congratulations Niki, so here's a consolation photo of you too!

Video Killed the Roadie-o Star; and, Cadel and Samuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! #cycling

Ready, Aim, Siiiiiiiiiiing!: yep, not content with being (1) retired (2) obscenely wealthy despite screwing an entire sport into eternal ignominy or (3) yappin' to BBC how he'd dope again anyway, fallen hero Lance Armstrong is yet again ho-ing himself for the limelight, now appearing in a close rocker friend's hi-larious new video, including, according to the fine folks at cyclingnews, a voice mail message in which he cautions the listener to "step the !@#$ off, Lance." !@#$, he's threatening poor Tyler Hamilton *again*? Anyhoo, here, Lance sings his eponymous hit single:

BMC, They're Totally Cool Again: and, in Team BMC's continued redemption from having hosed we love Thor, Philippe, *and* Samuel Sanchez the last couple seasons, the squad is bringing its A-game to Cadel Evans' official farewell to the peloton in his Cadel Evans Great Ocean Road Race, including, of course, Cadel and new re-sign Samu. Now bow to him at the Grand Tours BMC and you'll *really* have earned your keep already this season!

It Pays to Beat Mark Cavendish: finally, congrats to youngster Fernando Gaviria, who recently beat Mark Cavendish in a sprint at the Tour de San Luis, because thanks to his win over a most formidable opponent, he's reportedly now considering offers from both a Belgian and a French World Tour squad. Belgian, huh?--so *that's* what Cav's gonna do, absorb the boy into his 2015 lead-out train at Quick Step! Fast *and* smart, that Manx Missile is...

Chris Horner's Been !#$%^ed!: A Call For a Special New Cycling Team

All right, I call bull!@#$: that the winner of the 2013 freakin' Vuelta a Espana couldn't pull a WorldTour or Pro Continental gig was crap enough, but that his new squad doesn't even get a wild-card invitation to the Amgen EPO Tour of California is !@#$in' ridiculous. Who the hell and how hard could you possibly have to butt-kiss to get into that (admittedly very fine) race?! So as usual, we've gotta step in to fix the situation, and here it is: a call for a new WorldTour, all-events-invited cycling squad, Team Desiccated Old Guys! The criteria:

(1) You're 35 plus;

(2) you can still open a can of whup-!@# on half the peloton, hereby defined as, crash-out DNFs excepted, you are (a) a top-15 finisher, if designated team leader; (b) making the time cut, if a nut-busting top lieutenant or lead-out; or (c) in the top 75%, if you're a bidon-schlepping domestique monkey; and

(3) Jaysus, !@#$in' Davide Rebellin still gets to race, so why can't you?!

By my reckoning, this means: Horner's got a coupla more seasons; Jens has got another decade; Marianne Vos will be riding for 45 years after she's eligible to collect whatever the heck her country's version of Social Security; and that freak Valverde'll be in team kit 'til the actual geological end of time. Well, having solved this catastrophe, all we need now is a sponsor. Why not that crazy s.o.b. Tinkov, he'll be pulling ludicrous feats of physical exertion 'til well into the 23rd century?--now Horner, get back on your bike, back in the game, and enjoy the Tour of California!

Crikey, Cadel! A Farewell Career-in-Review

Look, I'll admit I thought of Cadel Evans for some years as rather a wheel-sucker. But then I realized I was a nit, and it must've just been his famous tenacity--because later in the game, he finally did start attacking, often under the worst possible conditions, and when he did, it was beautiful. So in honor of his final WorldTour race, and a certain place of honor in the history books, here's a brief retirement farewell Career In Review:

Cadel the Whippersnapper: far from beginning as a pampered roadie princess, Cadel started out as a mountain biker, which likely explains his bangin' later performance on crap road conditions that make yer average slick-dweller run whimpering to the team bus as fast as his wraithlike legs can carry him. Two time mountain bike world cup champ back in the day, with a couple of top-ten Olympic finishes as bookends, and tests show he's some sort of oxygen-absorbing genetic freak to boot. Really, his nickname was "the Lung"?

2000: Cadel gets some training tutelage from later-controversial Dr. Michele Ferrari. Oh, don't shoot the messenger for Chrissakes, by all accounts it was (1) actually training advice and (2) a one-off!

2001: Cadel joins Saeco and bags the Tour of Austria--nails it again in 2004. His fine road palmares begins!

2002: Cadel starts working with revered Italian roadie god Aldo Sassi. 1st stage at the Tour Down Under, a stage at the Settimana Ciclistica, and a top-15 and a day in the maglia rosa in the glorious Giro--woo-hoo!

2006: Top 10 in the Tour de France, Cadel also smacks both Alejandro Valverde and baby prodigy Alberto Contador in the Tour of Romandie. Not bad considering the !@#$ Valverde was apparently on in that dark Operacion Puerto year!

2007: a time trial win at the Tour de France and 2nd overall to Alberto. Holy crap, this guy is really serious!

2008: Scandalous dopeland Astana--and Contador--are out of the Tour, but it's dear little Sastre who takes the overall as Cadel takes 2nd after one disastrous crack. But 4 days in the maillot jaune ain't nothing to apologize for Cadel! And what's not to love about a guy who threatens to cut the head off anyone who steps on his dog after a particularly crap day on the bike, and sells t-shirts with the slogan on his own website to boot?

2009: A horrible Tour sez he's counted out for good, but a very fine Vuelta and a day in gold sez otherwise. Plus, his place in history is sealed--it's the Worlds, beeyotches!

2010: Maglia rosa, points classification, and a truly epic--truly--win on stage 10 on a miserable mudfest over Alexander Vinokourov. This cements it--I mean literally, he looked like he was covered in cement! Also holds the maillot jaune with a fractured elbow in July, though his overall Tour's a disaster. No race for crybabies--right on Cadel!

2011: Yeah, almost everyone thought he was out, after his nauseating see-saw in the GC the past few years--but he won his Tour de France, Australia's first too and the oldest winner in the modern era. First of many for the Aussies, too, judging by the boys he inspired after him!

2012: Another tough July at the office, with repeat bonks, a struggle with illness or exhaustion--and still a top-10 finish that would be the crown of most riders' careers. We still believe in you Cadel!

2013-2014: Will you cut the guy a little slack? He's a !@#$damn World Champ and Tour de France winner for !@#$'s sake!

2015: Twilight my !@#--the man just pulled off a podium spot in his home race and the last--besides his namesake one--of his career. A fine sendoff to one of the grittiest men ever to stick it through in the peloton--congratulations and thank you Cadel!

BMC Doesn't Bite It Anymore! Carnage at the Tour Down Under! Landis for the Quote o' the Year!

Woot Woot Samu!: okay, The Squad Whose Team Kit Shall Not Be Showcased is officially out of the doghouse--as dear tweeps leapt to inform me, BMC's come back to their once-addled senses and re-signed we love Samuel Sanchez for another season. I hope you made them pay for their waffling Samu! Anyway, our ex-Euskaltel Holy Crap He's Still An Olympic Gold Medalist And Did You See That Tour de France King of the Mountains Jersey climber will be back at the Grand Tours where he belongs, and for my money, a guy who can bag a top-ten result when he's theoretically there just to mentor the whippersnappers is a bitchin' grab indeed. Woot woot--now help Cadel get one last stage win and be nice to Philippe Gilbert and you are *really* gonna redeem yourselves, BMC!

The Bone Collector: in the suckier side of pro cycling, the early-season body count's already piling up at the Tour Down Under after a crash near the line yesterday, with sternums, ribs, hands and wrists fractured, considerable road rash incurred, and, for Kenny Dehaes, a nasty mangling finger-catch in his own wheel taking him outta the race. !@#$, first some clown sucker-punches 'im last year, now this misfortune--can't the finish-line gods cut this poor boy some slack already? Get better soon everybody--and remember, the season's just beginning, so I'm sure you'll be back in one piece in plenty of time to enjoy the rest of it!

Landis on LeMond: meanwhile, disgraced ex-Tour winner Floyd Landis has laid into Greg LeMond for supporting Lance's lifetime ban while also palling around with doping-era suspect miscreants like Hinault and Indurain, and, in the early preemptive win for the 2015 Racejunkie Awards Quote o' the Year, blamed such favoritism and hypocrisy (along with, y'know, such fine team doctors as Rabobank's, and briefly Sky's, Geert Leinders) for legit sponsors fleeing the sport so that now it's being bankrolled "primarily by bored wealthy men who need a reason to give their wives about why they spend so much time with young leg-shaving men in tight pants." Really, it wasn't headlines like "PHONAK SPONSORS GIANT DOPE FIENDS" or "DISCOVERY--OUR GUYS HEART PEDs" that did it? Geez, Landis, you already had to keep outta France so they wouldn't prosecute your !@#, now you gotta stay a half-step ahead of easily irritated bored wealthy men like Tinkov talking smack like that too? Yep, takes a brave man to speak out--but it might explain a *little* bit why more discreet gents like, say, Van de Velde are still gettin' some love from the sport!

Cav Takes the Low Road! Ex-Doperama Wild Cards at the Giro! Yep, This Is the Cycling We Know and Love

And It's Mark Cavendish for the Cheap-Shot!: Don't like a journalist's perfectly reasonable question as to the current state of cleanliness of the sport--not even about your own? Well, here's yer perfectly reasonable response: don't answer, *and* suggest that his spouse is bangin' someone else. Keepin' it classy, Cav! Fortunately, before actual blows were exchanged as to the journo's wife's virtue, karma caught up with the graceless rider as he immediately lost his first sprint of the season at the Tour de San Luis to someone, Fernando Gaviria, he'd never heard of. Did you see Mr. Kittel's race yesterday, Mr. Cavendish? Hey, who you calling a !@#$% ?! Here, via Veloropa, the friendly exchange, and world champ Michal Kwiatkowski's impressively contained reaction:

Giro d'Holy Moly How'd These Clowns Get In Here?: y'know, I fully support the smooth reintegration of genuinely remorseful former dopers and vicious vengeful cornered badgers, like Lance Armstrong, back into the peloton. Especially when it's at the expense of an up-and-coming squad of as-yet-unbesmirched climbers who already lit up one Grand Tour to spectacular, and groundbreaking, effect. And of course, nobody can take issue with the Giro d'Italia organizers wanting to support the smaller, if not historically perfectly clean, squads of Italian cycling. So why the big mean unsportsmanlike hoo-ha over a wild card like CCC Sprandi, home of 43-year-old uber-offender Davide "Gee, I Guess All That Crap Acts as Preservatives, Too" Rebellin and Stefan "I Guess It Did Look Bad to Beat Cancellara In Two Consecutive Time Trials" Schumacher getting to ride in the show? Okay, *maaaaaaybe* Nairo Quintana shouldn't've so openly dissed the beautiful Giro in favor of the overhyped Tour de France this year...but geez, punish his whole freakin' country for it whydontcha?

Pozzato Watch! finally, good news for rakish, if lately resultsless, Lampre king Pippo Pozzato: he's worked hard all winter, he's tons skinnier, and therefore, he's ready and rarin' for a back-to-winning 2015. *Pictures*, Pippo, pictures--it's not like you've been shy posting 'em all in the past!

P.S. Go Cadeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel--and we love the Tour Down Under!

Phil! Paul! Holy Crap It's We Love Robbie McEwen! The Road Season Finally Kicks Off #cycling

Yep, Still Rocks: sure, part of the reason we love legendary sprint god Robbie "the Pocket Rocket" McEwen is his pronounced tendency to actually physically rip the face of any unfortunate s.o.b. who !@#$ed with him, but we will take him being back as a commentator instead since we have to, and to all you Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen haters ticked over some minor detail like being a complete perpetual Lance Armstrong apologist and occasionally lately misnaming a rider who surely wasn't really so important anyway, stuff it, 'cause with the dulcet tones of Phil and Paul and Robbie to shout out the Aussies for the Tour Down Under's preview race, the 2015 road season is officially underway! First blood: Marcel Kittel, over Juan Jose "Can You Believe a Sprinter Who Can Come In Second to Kittel Got His Start at Freakin' Euskaltel?!" Lobato, though I note that chief smackdown rival Cav is *not* on hand, so Cavendish loyalists, not to worry just yet! On the women's side: Melissa Hoskins takes the day while Italian teammate Scandolara holds the GC. Forza ragazza--but watch out, Bronzini was already fifth in the sprint!

Boonen's Year Starts Off Right: and, congratulations to casa Boonen, as he and his companion Lore are now proud parents of wee twins Jacqueline and Valentine. Aside from, y'know, the life-changing experience of being a parent and all, what a great psychological boost to the start of the year for Tommeke--if his body doesn't now collapse from the impending total lack of sleep!

Gratuitous Fabian Cancellara FanBoy (and Girl) Swoonfest: meantime, as the heat-loving hardmen get ready for action in Australia, Trek stud-pup Fabian Cancellara, fresh off deciding to bail on his hour record attempt, is training in balmy Mallorca with Frank Schleck and co. Look--sheep--yeah, I figure none of you'd've noticed the background!

All right, on to the Tour Down Under--yeah, yeah, I get that Richie Porte's supposed to win the thing, but here's rooting one last time for retiring former Tour de France champ/ex World Road Champ/general gritty bad-!@# Cadel!

The Diss of Being Nibali: finally, yet another Tour de France GC contender, Nairo Quintana, has weighed in who he expects to be his biggest rival in July--yep, last year's crash-out Alberto Contador. Y'know, it's about the umpteenth interview with these guys, and not *one* of 'em's picked Nibali as the number-one dude to fear. If you were Nibali, wouldn't *you* be getting awfully pissed off by now?

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!

It's Yer 2015 Pro Cycling Year in Preview! (Yeah, You Read Right)

Well, the past has been covered, the gifts've been given, the awards accepted, and the resolutions made--now, it's time for the infallible predictions of the 2015 Year in Preview!

January: Time for new team kits! Astana emblazons front of jersey with giant Brian Cookson portrait; Tinkoff-Saxo replicates maillot jaune for entire squad, in case there's any doubt who's just gonna win it anyway; Sky ditches disastrous 2014 mesh skinsuit, goes for straight-on naked; cold-loving Belgian hardmen accidentally melt into tarmac at Tour Down Under; overcaffeinated Jens Voigt accidentally DSes Tour of California, Giro, Tour de France, Vuelta, and men's world championships several months before they actually occur.

February: The Tour of Qatar rolls out! Sagan wheelies over finish line, relegated from first-place finish in sprint; Mark Cavendish accidentally cuts into Roberto Ferrari's line with a chainsaw; Marcel Kittel spontaneously combusts when hair gel reaches critical 458 degrees Fahrenheit in blazing sun; Samuel Sanchez announces late 2015 contract with WHERE THE !@#$ IS SAMUEL SANCHEZ' NEW CONTRACT !@#DAMMIT?!

March: Woo hoo--it's the Classics! Fabian Cancellara falsely accused of "bike doping" when exhaust fumes from "cool new bidon" make lead group choke to death; Boonen wins Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne over Moreno Hofland for second consecutive year with last-moment "bike throw" into Hofland's head; Andre Greipel ensures sprinter's race at Milano-Sanremo by personally stretching the Poggio out flat with bare hands.

April: It's the Hell o' the North! ASO enforces rule against riding alongside cobbles by digging trenches on both sides filled with hissing deadly pit vipers; Boonen domestiques Niki Terpstra to win, again, by carrying him on piggyback through Arenberg Forest; Philippe Gilbert sweeps Aredennes Classics by whanging BMC directeur sportif over head with spoke wrench until he lets him break his contract, ride solo.

May: Yep, Grand Tour season begins--it's the beautiful Giro d'Italia, baby! Oleg Tinkoff entices Froome, Nibali, Quintana to ride Giro-Tour-Vuelta triple by threatening to break their legs off if they don't; collapsing glacier slices top off Stelvio, sending it plummeting onto peloton, race organizers deride riders as "pack of wussies" for not digging out from under 2.5 million metric tons of granite as Nairo Quintana takes stage saying he thought it "was just a pebble kicked up by the Orica-Greenedge team car." Guess who wins again!

June: Pre-Tour prep time! Sky to race organizer's house to completely revise course to Froomey's specifications; Tinkoff-Saxo to Tenerife for high-altitude training, robotic implants; Cav caught slipping Kittel 100,000 euros to "run down to the corner and get me a decent espresso."

July: What else--le Tour! Contador, Froome so busy marking each other they accidentally pedal backwards into coastal Portugal, out of contention; Valverde wins first Tour de France by "supporting" team captain Nairo Quintana by personally caring for Nairo's bicycle every night, replacing derailleur lube with Krazy Glue; Oleg Tinkov hitches Peter Sagan to Roman chariot, wins green jersey by using big spiky metal things on chariot wheels to shred the spokes of other riders. Victory is mine!

August: It's fabulous Vuelta a Espana, baby! Purito Rodriguez attacks for 31 straight days, realizes the race was actually already over during the last 10; Contador denied Tour-Vuelta double when poked in eye by randomly flailing Froome elbow; still-disappointed Orange Army fans kidnap all non-Basque riders, reconstituted "Euskaltel-Euskadi" squad wins all classifications.

September: Contract season! 16 Astana riders test positive for banned substances, Vinokourov forced to sign untainted squad of untried tricycle fans from local Kazakh nursery school; Quintana at Movistar through 2016 "so long as that greedy bastard Valverde don't stab me in the back"; Marianne Vos renews gig til 2048, wins F1 World Championship by record margin, explaining, "I thought all those race cars I passed were just some kind of fancy new fatbike."

October: World Championships time! Michal Kwiatkowski fails to defend men's road title when mistaken for Polish team towel boy, hounded away from start line; Pauline Ferrand-Prevot defends women's gold after other contenders decide to chill in their national team busses with beer and some nachos instead of riding and waiting for the last kilometer to blow it; Pippo Pozzato misses Il Lombardia due to hand injury sustained in tanning-salon imbroglio.

November: Vacation time! Pros collectively "go play video games" over at Lance Armstrong's house since they're now forbidden from consorting with Michele Ferrari; entire Astana squad disappears for 4 weeks, Brian Cookson chuckles "those scalawags!"; Froome eats single pea at dinner, doubles weight, Sky terminates next year's contract.

December: WorldTour licenses announced! Vino buys UCI prez Brian Cookson Buckingham Palace, Queen of England forced to live in nearby Motel 6; Cookson concedes Astana's been "very naughty" but rents Iglinsky brothers palatial Monaco summer homes to wait out doping bans; Thomas Voeckler snags ProTour license from Cofidis by impaling it with his prehensile lizard tongue; Alejandro Valverde proclaims himself "the greatest Spanish rider to ever get away with taking all this !@#$". Merry Christmas, suckers!

So, onwards to 2015--and don't say I didn't warn you!

It's Yer 2015 New Year's Resolutions for the Peloton!

Yes, the debauchery is over, the hangovers have passed, and now it's time for all the good--and not so good--folks o' the peloton to vow to improve their filthy, sinning selves for next year. And to give them just the help they need, we here at racejunkie have done it for them--it's yer 2015 New Year Resolutions for the Peloton!

1. Alberto Contador: I will do the Giro/Tour/Vuelta triple. And win it.

2. Oleg Tinkov: Alberto will do the Giro/Tour/Vuelta triple. And win it. Or I will squish him like an ant.

3. Alexander Vinokourov: I vow to get 5 more doping pozes on my squad this year. They'll probably give me a *two* year WorldTour license for that!

4. Mark Cavendish: I will knock that preening Eurotrash Kittel down off his pedestal. That, or I'll shave his head in his sleep, the showy bastard!

5. Peter Sagan: I will win a major Belgian Classic. And if not, I will distract the crowd with some obscure gesturing movie reference or pop a wheelie over Quintana's head.

6. Purito Rodriguez: I will podium at the Giro, Tour, or Vuelta. Because racejunkie will be heartbroken if I don't.

7. Nairo Quintana. I promise to share team leadership with Alejandro Valverde at the Tour de France this year. Ha ha, fake-out!

8. Marianne Vos: I vow to kick back with a nice bowl of popcorn and a cold one and watch a "Downton Abbey" marathon. How the hell else is anyone besides me gonna win a race next season?

9. Tom Boonen: Paris-Roubaix. Sixth time's the charm, baby!

10. Jens Voigt: I'll get my DS license. And start a new clothing line. And set the hour record again. And set the day record. And set the year record. And I'll ride alongside the guys at the Tour of California the whole way just for fun. And start my own coffee bar. And build a high-end bicycle line out of toothpicks. And wear the Alps down to nubs just riding up and down 'em for no reason. And...

11. Brad Wiggins: I will--no, I guess I really won't do anything this year either!

12. UCI: we will put up 8 jillion dollars of our own cash to re-fund and re-start we still miss Euskaltel-Euskadi. Oh Euskaltel!

13. Giro d'Italia Organizers: we will move the Stelvio stage to mid-January this year, and replace the riders' and teams' race radios with strings strung between empty soup cans. *That* oughta !@#$ those guys over!

14. Alejandro Valverde: I'll carry lots of sterile gauze around. 'Cause god knows I'll need something to plug the holes I'll have from the narcs pricking me to find out why I'm riding like such a freak again this year!

15. Michal Kwiatkowski: I'll break the curse of the rainbow jersey and win a race this year. No, I mean it, I will! Whaddaya mean, "who?"

16. Samuel Sanchez: I will make BMC pay for what they have done to me. Aw, no I won't, I'm too nice. Darn it!

17. Tour de France: We will not have a single doping positive this year, again. UCI has seen to that!

18. Brian Cookson: I will support a minimum wage for the female riders. Like, 5 euros an hour oughta cover the cost of their manicures and hair-salon appointments, right?

Well, as you can see, the sport's all officially cleaned up nice for next year. On to 2015, and remember kids, we'll be watching, so keep yer promises you layabouts!

It's Yer 2014 Racejunkie Awards!

Yes, put on your heels, wax your back thatch, inject silicone into yer lips and haul your boobs u--uh, wrong awards show, but anyway, it's that time of year, folks, and while the hoi polloi are throwin' themselves big congratulatory incestuous ho-fests of prime-time TV awards galas, it's time for cycling fans to throw our own! So, without further ado, the good, the bad, the questionable, and the just plain horrifying of Year in Pro Cycling 2014!

Grotesque Enabler of 2014: and this prestigious first-time award goes to...UCI President Brian "New Generation" Cookson, for punishing Astana and its truly impressive 5 doping positives with a WorldTour license while race-enlivening but slightly broke-!@# Tommy the Grimace Voeckler's fine Europcar gets tossed in the incinerator like yesterday's clandestine team-bus medical debris. Damn, UCI, keep that !@#$ up and guys'll be snarfing masking agents right during their post-race urine tests!

Punk-!@# Move of the Year: Raised-by-pigs Walter Perez, of Team Nobody Gives a !@#$ and You Guys Never Win Anything Anyway, sucker-punches Lotto nice-guy Kenny Dehaes right in the face during a sprint, apparently because Walter hadn't brains enough to get a decent place in his own right. And, in fact, Kenny was *so* nice he didn't do anything back for fear of bringing down other riders. !@#$, even Cav'd just chew your helmet to pieces. One free hit for Kenny, and then let this go like gentlemen!

Crushing Disappointment of 2014: sure, it's the weight of completely ludicrous expectations, but if you're gonna be a wheelie-poppin' camera-whore with swooning fans blocking everyone else's view of the peloton waving giant picture-blowups of yer face on wooden stakes, suck it up. Plus, with a 4.3 million euro gig for the upcoming year to console you, I don't wanna even *hear* any whining. Peter Sagan, this one's for you--now I *don't* want to see you win this one again next year!

Rider of the Year: Marianne Vos. Damn, she's Rider of Every Year. Bow, beeyotches, before your queen!

Crash o' the Year (Extended Rehab Edition): Ever-cheerful Taylor Phinney's leg-crushing hit at the US Championships. He's down, but he's clearly not out--just follow the kid's interviews and tell me he won't be back with a vengeance in 2015!

Crash o' the Year (Oh, !@#$! Edition): Mark Cavendish, going down by the barriers and visibly instantly knowing his Tour de France was over--and *just* when he was he was getting his confidence and his street cred back after constant poundings from New Big Thing Marcel Kittel. Like you didn't jump outta yer chair swearing along with millions of other fans!

Crash o' the Year (GC Gift Edition): Chris Froome and Alberto Contador at the Tour de France, who left like 2 obscure neo-pros to try fruitlessly to take on Vincenzo Nibali. A lion among toothless mewling kitty-cats--it'll be much more fun if that don't happen next year!

Corresponding Energizer Bunny Award: y'know, normally, this goes to Stuey O'Grady, or some Belgian hardman who gets run over by tanks or a thundering herd of elephants and still not only takes a stage win but a major Classics win as well. But this year, a sincere chapeau to Skymaster Chris Froome, who took a licking--okay, like 40 hard, bloody, pavement-smacking lickings--before he finally gave up ticking at the Tour de France. Now *that* is a man who loves his sport!

Corresponding From Here to Eternity Award: yep, Tour de France champ Vincenzo Nibali, who let's face it despite his obvious Grand Tour prowess will always have a giant "What If?" hangin' over Froome-and-Contador-less 2014 win. He (and Vino) may be justly pissed, but it's question-marked nonetheless for all time. But as Lo Squalo pointed out, part of winning the Tour is just staying upright--oh, snap, you clods!

Farrah Fawcett Memorial Trophy: yeah, yeah, he can sprint. In fact, pretty spectacularly. Oh, but that's nothing compared to how he can toss his hair like a 70s pinup icon. Well, not toss it, but it sure does look pretty in its stiff-standing glory. Marcel Kittel, your pompadour may climb on stage to receive your award. And next year, you might win for something you can do on your bike!

The Little Engine That Could Award: Nairo Quintana, next year's pint-size Tour de France threat. and boy, was he pissed he wasn't allowed to "could" at the Tour this year!

Doping Excuse of the Year: y'know, I almost didn't award this, because there's only one obvious winner, and he had a near-tragically terrible time the first time he got busted. But in fairness, it's still gotta go to Mauro Santambrogio, popped again while still on double-secret probation because, he claimed, he was being treated for erectile dysfunction. Worse, he apparently got the okay from the doctors first. If that's true, that is one mean screwup to bust him for it--any o' you guys have anything *you* wanna share?!

The Walking (Well, Riding) Dead Prize: like anything *else* than a chomping zombie undead takeover can explain Alejandro Valverde's unstoppable performance this year? Jaysus, what rocket-fueled supernatural demon-spawn bit *that* guy?

Best Team of 2014: Sky. Just kidding! This one's clearly for crazed dictator Oleg Tinkov's Team Tinkoff-Saxo, who somehow won damn near every remaining stage of the Tour de France after Contador left. Or else!

Fine French Whine Prize: wait, they actually didn't bag this one so much this year--in a remarkably instantaneous reversal of two solid decades o' suck, they got two frickin' podium spots at the Tour de France! Next up--Frenchman actually wins his home Tour in 2025. Well, like anything, a good vintage takes time to develop!

Suck Transfer of the Year: ok, technically, they took place earlier. But this is a three-fer for we love big lug Thor Hushovd, god-o'-the-Ardennes/former world champ Philippe Gilbert, and of course we love Samuel "Holy Crap He's An Olympic Gold Medalist!" Samuel Sanchez, all of whom took a vicious dive the minute they joined the ungrateful, and underutilizing, BMC. You suck BMC--now give Samu back his contract!

And Finally, The Edge of Night Award: yep, he went gently into that good night--so gently, hardly anyone realized this former hot-headed Rival-o'-the-Century to Alberto Contador, Andy Schleck, hadn't already physically and mentally retired a year ago. Good luck Andy--at least you've got that belated maillot jaune to remember the sport by!

Well, them's mine, and if I missed anything, spit it out. So for now, come up and grab yer trophies, you shameful miscreants--and don't none of you pull this !@#$ again in 2015!

It's Yer 2014 Pro Cycling Year In Review! #cycling

Yep, as 2014 draws to its chaotic close, and as the umpteenth playback of "Santa Got Run Over By A Reindeer" and mugs of spiked egg-nog cloud our brains, it's time to reflect on the good, the bad, and the plain butt-ugly of our beloved--and, as always, it's given us a truck-load of all three! So, without further ado:

January: Samuel Sanchez threatens to retire. Who gives a crap what else happened all month? Anyhoo, Gerrans wins 3rd Tour Down Under, Sky mesh skinsuits immolate Froomey, leave pile of ashes as Sky's GC contender for Tour de France; Viagra's the hot new doping product, cue the cheesy 70s pornstaches!

February: Patrick "Who?" Sinkewitz gets 8-year ban for failing to be as cute as Dave Zabriskie--uh, butt-kiss CAS; Valverde off to skeevily fantastic start at Ruta del Sol; doping benefits last waaaaay longer than the drugs themselves, Astana throws 3-day EPO-fueled "training camp", Iglinsky brothers accidentally set world land-speed record on rusty Big Wheels; women get 1/21th of a Tour de France, hailed as greatest improvement in women's cycling since they stopped making Marianne Vos compete in pantaloons. Next year they can wear helmets instead of sunbonnets!

March: Contador wins at Tirreno, Sky's mechanic generously offers to "fix his bike for him" in July; Peter Sagan disappoints as Kristoff takes Sanremo; John Degenkolb wins bloody Gent-Wevelgem as Tyler Farrar of course takes down Greipel, who immediately pounds him into the ground like a tent peg; Wiggo generously promises to "help" Froome by, uh--!@#$, he never actually *does* anything for him in 2014, does he?

April: It's the Classics, Beeyotches! Peter Sagan is crushing disappointment in every single race, receives 4.3 million euro raise; Fabs takes Flanders; Stijn Devolder crashes record-setting 367 times in single race, stuck back together with duct tape, Hammer Gel, and spit; Contador pulls controversial wheel-suck on Valverde at Tour of the Basque country, shrugs to press "like *that* little freak can complain?"; numbnut loses mystery pills on course, later determined to be "not half so bad as that !@#$ Sky is taking"; Niki Terpstra takes Paris-Roubaix as Tom Boonen superdomestiques 'im to the win. Oh *c'mon*, Tommeke, you've only got like another year or two to take this again!

May: It's the fabulous Giro d'Italia, baby! Race organizers go on grappa bender over being dissed by big stars for Tour de France prep, podium babes knocked out flat from fumes; Uran grabs maglia rosa as other GC contenders talk smack; Nairo Quintana takes advantage of crap weather on Stelvio as rest of frozen peloton demands mommies blankies before descent; Quintana wins race, gets lost in upholstery of Giro throne, doesn't resurface 'til August; Boonen slams everyone else at Tour of Belgium, gets giant keg of co--beer. Did I mention it's the fabulous Giro d'Italia, baby?!

June: Oh yeah, it's the road to the Tour! Crack Spanish authorities throw doper out of Gran Fondo, pronounce somehow miss THE ENTIRE REST OF THEIR RIDERS FOR !@#$'S SAKE; Froome caught on camera huffing on inhaler on climb during Dauphine, "new" UCI totally cool with it; Vincenzo "the Shark" Nibali chews through press corps in gory feeding frenzy when they refuse to mention him along with Froomey and Contador as Tour de France GC contenders.

July: Listen up, publicity whores, it's the Tour de France! Cav crashes out six centimeters into start of race, still doesn't keep Sagan from sucking; Froome, Contador crash out, press *still* ignores Vincenzo Nibali, Alexander Vinokourov shoots long-range missiles into press tent as Oleg Tinkov "encourages" remaining troops to unusual series of victories; Luke Durbridge beats crap outta Movistar soigneur, awarded lucrative pro-boxing contract; French actually *don't* suck, Bernard Hinault revived with smelling salts; shut the !@#$ up, we love Purito Rodriguez was just giving someone else a chance this year!

August: Jens Voigt announces retirement! All the heavens weep, flowers wilt, milk turns sour and oceans turn to giant fetid puddles of suck; Jonathan Tiernan-Locke claims bio-passport bust due to being "so wasted last night, man!", fellow frat-brother hurls on UCI prez Cookson at press conference; Contador, Froome announce they'll ride the Vuelta on broken everythings, Purito spotted in local library doing anonymous Google search on "how much Xanax do you have to sneak into a bidon for it to work"; it's the smashing Vuelta a Espana, baby!

September: did I mention it's the smashing Vuelta a Espana, baby? Contador crushes Froome in mountains as Dutch mistake Froome's flailing for windmill, use him to grind grain; Brad Wiggins takes men's TT, redeems crap season, whines into pretty much retirement; Pauline Ferrand-Prevot wins women's Worlds road race as big-name stars sit up 5k before the line, decide to go out for a beer instead; Michal Kwiatkowski takes men's championship in upset as Valverde dumps bucket of tacks over Breschel, Gerrans; Oleg Tinkov challenges 2015 Tour de France GC contenders to do Giro/Tour double with Alberto, but decides to do Giro/Tour/Vuelta triple himself BECAUSE ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC WORM WEAKLINGS! I ALREADY WORE DOWN THE PYRENEES INTO VALLEYS RIDING THEM SO MUCH YOU VERMIN! ALBERTO WILL BE MY SOIGNEUR !@#$# NEXT YEAR! YOU...

October: WHY THE HELL DOESN'T SAMUEL SANCHEZ HAVE A CONTRACT !@#DAMMIT?; Dan Martin takes Lombardia over still-frighteningly-surging robot Valverde; despondent injured Andy Schleck retires, no-one has heart to tell the poor guy they all thought he--wait, even *I'm* not mean enough to rag on 'im; 46 Astana riders, team-bus drivers, and towel boys test positive for drugs, Vino looks up from tapping air out of syringe to say it's all a total coincidence; Froome threatens to bow out of Tour de France if organizers don't let him plan every stage, 2015 Tour now has 16 days of time trials. Sucks to be you next July, Alberto!

November: Sick !@#$ UCI president Brian Cookson suggests shortening the Giro & Vuelta because they're not already overshadowed by the gaudy slutfest of the Tour de France ENOUGH, you wanker; Vuelta organizer tosses in 40k flat time trial to bribe Froomey, agrees to provide boy to run beside him fanning him with palm leaf during hot-weather mountain stages; roadside fan-favorite Didi "the Devil" Senft retires, actual Lord of Hell replaces him with Alexander Vinokourov; Andy Schleck awarded 2010 Tour de France, still didn't win it. And where the !@#$ is Samuel Sanchez' new contract?!

December: Time for Team Camps! Oleg Tinkov harnesses Tinkoff-Saxo boys to gear-loaded sled like Huskies, forces them to haul him across frozen Siberian tundra on foot on diet of dog food; Astana gives up the charade, holds training camp in Michele Ferrari's living room; Europcar denied WorldTour license for minor budget shortfall, Thomas "the Grimace" Voeckler's face really *does* freeze like that, just like his mamma said it would; Cookson vows to crush Astana in zero-tolerance show of force, renews WorldTour license, buys all the boys seaside summer homes and tattoos Vino's name on his !@# with a big red heart around it. Ouch, *that*'ll teach 'em! Nope, still no Samu contract...

Well, by my count, these clowns still got 12 days to add all kindsa hijinks to the list. So let's hope they hold it together, and meantime, onwards to 2015--next up, the 2014 Annual Racejunkie Awards, and Yer 2015 Year in Preview!

It's A Merry Festivus Gift List for the Peloton! #cycling

Oh, sure, they may get on our nerves now and then by, y'know, recklessly causing someone else to crash at the line like a punk-!@#, or replacing their entire bloodstreams with doping products, but they also still thrill us every day for months on end with blistering attacks, excruciating climbs, daring descents and nail-biter sprints for the line. And dag nabit, we still love them no matter what. So, in the magnanimous spirit of the holidays, and with the presumption that every single one of 'em deserves to be on the Nice list, here's my Merry Festivus Wish List for the Peloton!

1. Peter Sagan: A major, serious Classics win. Because (1) Oleg Tinkov'll hurt him if he don't and (2) Tom Boonen's gonna take the rest of 'em anyway!

2. We Love Samuel Sanchez: A contract! A freakin' contract! Why won't someone worthwhile give him one? Aiiiiggggghhhhhhhh!

3. Alberto Contador: the Tour de France. Oh, come on, like he wouldn'a won it last year if he hadn't snapped his tibia!

4. Chris Froome: a lifetime supply of high-SPF sunscreen. Still sympathetically wincing from that mesh-skinsuit fiasco over here!

5. Fabian Cancellara: a squad that can halfway match and support his incredible talent. Even Spartacus can't do *everything*!

6. Marianne Vos: a *full*, three week Tour de France route. And a Giro. And a Vuelta. And a damn raise!

7. Marcel Kittel: after the year he had--and more importantly, the smashing hair he has--what more could he actually want for?

8. Dr. Michele Ferrari: Immunity. Now yap, you weasel!

9. Tyler Farrar: one of those gyroscope thingies like in a Segway that keeps you from falling over. 'Cause goodness knows the poor guy couldn't stay upright otherwise this year!

10. Alexander Vinokourov: y'know, I was *gonna* wish him this cool invincible superhero Teflon force-field that can repel and destroy all threats, but apparently he's already got one. How else could he still be getting away with all this !@#$?

11. Brian Cookson of UCI: a spine, which is a lot nicer'n what I could've said. Really, you gave Astana a WorldTour license over Europcar? The hell with the letter of the rules--how the heck does that advance their *spirit*?!

12. Mark Cavendish: The green jersey at next year's Tour. And a coupla stage wins. A poor reward for his crap crash-out at the Tour de France--and just when he was getting his mojo back!

13. Michal Kwiatkowski: a major stage win. At a *real* race, not some petty-!@# zero-rated nowheresville. Reverse the Curse!

14. Alejandro Valverde: the WorldTour championship again. Just to piss people off!

15. Purito Rodriguez: the Vuelta. Come on Purito. I know you're riding the Tour and I believe you can do it. But it's like asking for a pony and getting a rocking-horse: let's aim for something Santa can really pull out for you this year!

16. Oleg Tinkov: I NEED NOTHING! I WILL BUY YOUR ENTIRE 2015 RIDER ROSTER! I WILL PURCHASE THE ALPE D'HUEZ AND TURN IT INTO MY PERSONAL DRIVEWAY! I AM KING OF THE UNIVERSE! I...

17. And Finally, My Dear Reader(s): May your favorite rider sign your out-thrust cap, may your peloton crush stay ever upright, may that sneaky little bastard you know is guilty hate get his comeuppance, and may all your days on the bike or just watching others race on it be fair. Merry Everything to everyone--and may all your most expensive spouse-aggravating frame and component dreams come true!

A Call for a Bull!#$% Moratorium In Cycling

Look, everyone has the right to defend themselves, and oughta be completely exonerated unless proven scumwadly. But some of this !@#$ going on is just downright insulting, and we fans, whose denial, naivete, and dumb acceptance the sponsors count on to justify your salaries, deserve better. Ergo, I propose (and hereby impose, since heck knows UCI won't do it), the following guidelines for dealing with doping allegations:

1. Anyone who claims they met with [insert notorious doping doctor here] merely for "training advice" is summarily banned for life. Plus thwapped.

2. Anyone who goes off the radar for their "altitude training" will be presumed to have doped at sea level.

3. Next guy busted for using a party drug recreationally will be given a free pass. If he's not snorting a line at the start of Paris-Roubaix, who gives a !@#$?

4. The entire women's peloton will, effective immediately, be given a raise sufficient to afford Dr. Ferrari's premium goods and services. Not that they can use it for that.

5. Anyone who dopes and *still* sucks will be placed in stocks in the local piazza so people can throw rotten vegetables at them. *That* level of incompetence as a pro cyclist is just embarrassing.

6. Anyone working for or having previously been associated with Alexander Vinokourov, Lance Armstrong, Michele Ferrari or Eufemiano Fuentes is presumed a lying guilty sack of crap.

7. All asshats claiming they "only doped once" are presumed to have doped every single day of their professional careers.

8. All riders who are stupid enough to get popped, and who get to ride again post-ban, are forbidden from criticizing the doping of other cyclists still smart enough to get away with it.

9. The following riders we love are innocent of everything: Iban Mayo, Roberto Heras, Jan Ullrich, Bobby Julich, and anyone from Euskaltel-Euskadi ever. One, because justice must be tempered with mercy, and two, because I am irrationally biased towards them, so you can all stuff it. Frankly, I'd've even included that crazy s.o.b. Vino, but if he was actually both dumb and careless enough to get his squad into this mess, he's lost me.

Well, I think we can now proceed with confidence that the cringe-worthy spewing we've been hearing lately from these idiots will now cease. On to the champagne for Astana's renewed WorldTour license!

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!

The First Rule of Fight Club Is, Don't #$% With Bouhanni In a Sprint

Watch Out, Mark Cavendish!: Oh, so you go in for a little argy-bargy at the line, maybe a shove like Cav or a head-butt like Robbie McEwen do you? Maybe even a Rui Costa post-race wheel whang, a little assault'n'battery? Well get your dukes up, you mewling wussies, because boxing is 2014 sprint revelation Nacer Bouhanni's true "passion," and not only is he training in the off-season with an eye towards a post-cycling pugilistic career, one can sensibly imply that he'll !@#$in' knock your lights out if you come within 4 feet of his wheel in the last 2 kilometers of a race. Just try screwing with *his* line, Roberto Ferrari, if you want an impromptu and highly unflattering nose job! I don't know, man, Sagan and Farrar are so nice I can see 'em going down like a ton of bricks, and Kittel'd maybe hit the deck with a sucker punch while he's moussing his hair, but Greipel you could actually break your hand on and Cav is one scrappy little bastard. First bout: Tour of Qatar, see you there, baby, and bring the Band-Aids!

Tinkoff Goes Stealth: and, in a subtle attempt to evade the nar--uh, jazz up its team-kit sales to the insatiable wannabe masses--Oleg Tinkov's debuted a smokin' blue-camo training-camp team kit for the boys to romp in. Oh, who *gives* a crap--the only team kit that ever mattered is the orange and black--bring back Euskaltel, !@#dammit!

Tour de Force: finally, it's all in for terrifying pasty wraith/prior champ Chris Froome at the Tour de France this year, so Nibali, you're gonna really have to bring your A-game if the boy manages to stay upright and not go up in flames from exposure to the sunlight. Lucky for you Froomey Contador's got a built-in excuse if he's tired out winning the Giro--at least, you better *hope* Oleg lets him get tired next year!