Armstrong vs. Contador

Intra-team politics are best left behind in cycling buses and three-star French hotel rooms. But sometimes, they are so large and menacing that they rupture into the mainstream and into our banal lives.

Pre Twitter and Post WWII there have been two other incidents of intra team rivalry. Stephen Roche and Visentini split their team in the Giro in 1987.

In 1986 Greg LeMond and Bernard Hinault travelled down the same rosy route.

The cycling world has never been the same since.

Analysis of these fallouts leads me to find some commonalities:

1. The biggest rift occur when cyclists are from different nationalities
2. Each must be a star in their own right (ego)
3. One always has an underdog mentality (or is a quieter type), the other seems almost regal in their right to reign supreme (they also generally have home advantage)
4. The underdog is the young pup
5. The underdog wins – this is when the rumpus occurs (Rule #1 never outshine the master)
6. Team management (including the directeur sportif) want the top dog to win
7. The team is split down the middle – very few riders sit on the fence (same applies to the fans)
8. The top dog never wins the same race again

Grand Tours Loom for Andy Schleck

All the Spring Classics have now passed. Off all the victors of the Classics only Andy Schleck is likely to contend for a Grand Tours podium to snuggle with his LBL win.

Schleck has been building his form in the shape of domestique work and occasional all-night rave parties in New York. Having a dad that also raced professionally, and Frank, his older brother bodes well for the 23 year old. His head is firmly on his shoulders, and his feet have dynamite.

In last years TDF he chaperoned his sibling through the Pyrenean and Alpine stages. This year Andy Schleck will be given wings. Frank disappointed last year, especially in the final time trial (even though the rumour is that he waited for Sastre to give the Spaniard a carrot to race against).

A big question on everyones mind is "Can Andy time trial against the best?"

My guess is that Saxo Bank and Astana are going to have a nuclear explosion in July. The fans can enjoy the fallout from the safety of their TV rooms.

Lance Armstrong Breaks Collarbone

Johan Bruyneel has just reported on Twitter that: "Crash update on Lance from Castilla y Leon: Clean collarbone fracture without complications. Should be fast recovery. More to come."

Good luck on your recovery Lance.

Voeckler is the Housewives Favourite

The psyche of the French nation is often hard to encapsulate . One moment you are King, and the next moment you may have your head on Robespierre’s spike.

This psyche can manifest itself in unusual ways. Take Richard Virenque’s huge fan base in France - the French menopausal housewife.

Richard would cry on cue and then gush on live television: ”My stage win is dedicated to my dead Grandma… she died 10 years ago…sob. Wait. It is also for my coach who died while giving me an EPO transfusion…sob.” Swooning and baguette dropping in the kitchen will occur during Richard’s post win ritual.

The incumbent housewives favourite is Thomas Voeckler. He has perfected the fine art of putting on a show for the cameras. If he isn’t at the front panting and pulling faces, he is gliding at the back of the peloton looking for the moto 2 cameraman.

Yesterday was a perfect example. He was showboating and yelling like normal at the front in a breakaway, and then got outwitted by another Frenchman Roy on stage 5 of Paris – Nice.

Then in today’s stage he was soft- tapping around the back of the peloton. He fell and damaged his collarbone. Now he is in a Hospital in Orange. French TV crews and housewives are probably queueing outside the hospital at this very moment.

Poor old Thomas.

P.S. It is unfortunate that he is reported to have a bad collarbone break. I wish him luck with a speedy recovery.

We and Lance

It was Paolo Bettini that did it the most. Interview after interview, he would use this reference to himself. It is one of my biggest bugbears. Bettini would refer to himself in the third person.

“Bettini will win the World Champs,” he would say. Or he would state proudly “Bettini is training well in California.”

It hurts the ear like tinnitus and causes my body to shudder uncontrollably.

I read about another cyclist who did the same. Ferdi Kübler – the famous Swiss cyclist. He is one of a few cyclists to win 3 Classics in a single year – 1951. He won Flèche Wallonne, Liège-Bastogne-Liège and the World Championships.

In one famous interchange on Mont Ventoux in the 1955 Tour de France Raphaël Geminiani warned Ferdi: “Careful on the Ventoux, it’s not like the others.”

Kübler replied “Ferdi too not like the others. Ferdi great champion.”

He blew up on the Giant of Provence and lost the stage.

He was heard to say: “Ferdi to old and sick. Ferdi committed suicide on Ventoux.”

Now we have another cyclist who is treading in this ego minefield. Proudly step in Lance Armstrong. The Texan is using "We" a lot. Now he could possibly be referring to his teammates at Astana, or his LiveStrong campaign. You make up your mind. It could also be the Royal "We".

All I can do is shake my head in dismay and wonder if all these users of the 3rd person are aware that this is the domain of royalty only. It is bad enough if the Queen uses the Royal "We".

Cyclists desist, I implore you.

David Zabriskie – The All American

There is something about Dave Z that is immensely likeable. There is a memorable quip after the London Prologue 2007 where a British reporter presumptuously asked, “Tell us about your disappointing ride.” Zabriskie answered “I never said I was disappointed, you did.” This was done in his Utahan drawl.
Another reason to like him is that he is a hard worker. He worked like a Trojan for Team CSC and gave up many chances for personal glory.

Before Landis’ fall from grace there was an excellent magazine article where Dave interviewed Floyd in a casual, tummy tickling repartee. Maybe it is because I am a WASP that I enjoyed their banter – but it is a better advertisement of intellect than say … some Spanish peasants who would be on the dole if it wasn’t for cycling. Not that intellect is a necessary factor for success – just look at … (self censored)

And he has a very attractive wife that fulfils the All-American hero tick box.

By all accounts his form is tip-top. His teammate Lucas Euser recently dropped subtle hints like: "Anyone who saw Dave train this winter knows that this guy means business and that he's the real deal. At training camp he was on fire and doing some really amazing things on the climbs."

Euser is proving to be right. Dave Z is sitting in biting distance of Levi Leipheimer after stage 2 of the ToC.

Levi is the shorter version of the All American hero, also with an attractive wife - except he is bald.

After overcoming maillot jaune tragedy, enslavement (to team leaders) and a broken vertebra Dave Z’s progress to the top step is returning. He is hot property again, and in an American team like Garmin-Slipstream he is sure to see more victories in 2009.

Crack Athletes

The professional peloton and a host of other sports, like rugby, swimming and croquet have all had cocaine positives. The problem lies in the nature of a full time crack athlete. The very nature of an athlete is obsessive/compulsive.

I haven’t taken cocaine. What for anyway.

My life has tumultuous highs and a few stupefying lows (not that I am bipolar) without any mind inducing drugs. Just two nights ago I stared at my ceiling for 4 hours because of mundane work stress and personal strife. On the way back home after finishing a 100km race on Sunday I rejoiced while listening to a Killer’s song. I hit an endorphin rush. No drugs required.

The problem is the professional athlete can’t handle the attention.

Sometimes the spotlight shines so bright that you can see the pores of the athletes’ skin. Other times the athlete is cycling for six hours in a basement in Chicago hidden from the media. Just take that bizarre cycling caricature – Ricardo Ricco. Only cycling with its slavish commitment and Spartan existence can conjure up an antagonist of his ilk. He was like a black-and-white Hollywood constructed Charlie Chaplin nemesis.

An unworldy adjustment to fans and media attention of the Tour de France kind is hard to handle. Damiano Cunego still lived with his parents up until a few years ago – like most Italian pros - even after he won the Giro. For goodness sake, grown Italian men need to have carnal relations in cars in alleyways.

Forget having WADA and Anne Griper. We need psychoanalysts of the Freudian kind nursing our fragile cyclists. Forget the whereabouts program and biological passports. What we need is Freud.


Wait a minute. I think he had a coke habit too.

Early season boredom

Most races leading up to the Milan - San Remo and the rest of the classics seem to be sprinters races. Podium places are full of Cavendish, Boonen and most recently Pettachi.

There should be a few more races that can present opportunities for the breakaway specialists and climbers. Even Allan Davis who took the Tour Down Under is actually a sprinter.

The race organisers should throw in a 5 – 8 km climb near the end of a few of these races – if possible. Qatar could build a monstrous ramp that could emulate an Alpine climb.

So while the likes of Cav and Tomeke add to their list of wins, it is up to the superior stage riders to hone their form. Patiently, they wait in the bunch knowing their turn will come.

What the classics and stage riders bring with them is emotion and stories. At the moment it is just a one liner – “So and so sprinter won.” But cycling is all about patience. And the foreplay to a great season has just begun.

Vive le cycling!

OUCH hip to be tested

Floyd Landis is returning to mainstream racing in the Tour of California. The Mennonite is low key in his approach, preferring to say that his return is not a comeback.

Something has been forgotten in his return. The man has had a hip replacement.

After breaking the neck of his femur and having necrosis (blood not circulating in bone) he needed to have an operation usually given to osteoporosis stricken grannies.

Just before his fall from grace at the 2006 Tour he gave a press conference to proclaim his attempt to return to top rung cycling after the hip injury. This became a medical marvel akin to cancer comebacks and shooting accidents (see Greg LeMond).

Now that the media limelight has been removed from “Flandis” this story may not get the attention it deserves. Feel good stories are a rarity. When they come along they should be milked.

His own marketing persona has also undergone a huge arc: from a jocular, intelligent, Mennonite’s son, overcoming a hip replacement; to a man with dubious morals, suspect friendships and slanty-eyed.

He did do this to himself.

Racing in the quiet

Stuart O’Grady commented on the quiet at the Beijing Olympic road race.

"It was like silent murder," he said.

Overzealous Chinese officials disallowed fans and family to get onto the course. Only lonely communist sentinels in yellow capes and faces draped the circuit.

It was called a ghost course.

This reminded me of the beginning of the season at the Tour of Qatar - except the only sign of supporters are bemused Arabs watching at a roundabout. At the finish area a desert tent full of the Emirs concubines and eunuchs seem to outnumber the timekeepers. Contrast this with the Tour Down Under about to kick off. Huge crowds are expected and excitement is at fever pitch.

The only silence will be momentary surprise when Lance Armstrong takes a stage win – and then it won’t be for long.

Perms are back

We have to be thankful that cyclist’s are obliged to wear helmets in road races. This is not necessarily for the safety factor – rather, it is to hide some unsightly hairdos.

The perm is back!

Franco Pellizotti has always had frizzy hair, so his hair cannot technically be called a perm, but recently there have been pictures of Mark Cavendish and 2008 Tour winner – Carlos Sastre adorning what look to be perms.

The Spaniard has recently left the confinement of self-professed mind-guru Bjarne Riis and settled for Cervélo TestTeam. And this is how he pays his fans back; with a hairstyle that can be best described as a vaudevillian perm.

The Cav has also allowed his curls to be styled in a somewhat perm fashion. It has made me run back in fear to the cycling archives and dig out the king of perms – Eric Vanderaerden.

His perm sits high above all the others. It is the quintessential perm - the one that all others copy. Unfortunately, Sastre and Co. look like they have done just that.

Find Carlos Sastre's perm at http://www.cervelo.com/riders.aspx#1

Baden Cooke's Transfer Roulette

One of the unluckiest cyclist's must be Baden Cooke. He spent a year in the Unibet.com squad with all its gambling problems. Then he did a short stint with the on-again off-again Barloworld - and he left the Tour after an injury.

Now he has been shafted by Rock Racing and has moved to little known Italian squad Vacansoleil.

I have warned previously about Rolling Rocks tagline - "Here to stay".

If he was vegetarian, he probably would have signed up for the ephemeral Linda McCartney team.

Wii Cycling

Nintendo Wii has upset the couch-potato cart.

We have been starved for indoor exercise. Before Wii, we had Twister and Jane Fonda workouts. Most middle aged-men who participated in the lounge aerobics where mainly watching Hanoi Jane’s bouncing assets. Now we are calling out for Wii Cycling – the answer to busy roads and life schedules.

The hard truth is that Nintendo Wii and cycling are never likely to merge into a product. Some alternatives are suggested at the end of the article.

Nintendo's pitfalls are:

1. You need a bicycle – Nintendo don’t make white plastic moulds of bikes

2. You need to measure power from the back wheel – this is a specialty area that involves large investment from Nintendo

3. You need resistance – air guitar works; no-chain cycling doesn’t

4. Virtual reality software – riding along and seeing cartoon caricatures and Little Red Riding Hood is not what cyclist would like to see when they are training. The more real the better.

Never mind, there are alternatives already in existence. I happily use the Tacx trainer to web-race in virtual reality or for Real Life Video where I ride along the island of Majorca or some other pre-filmed route.

Check them out at: http://www.tacxvr.com/en

There is also CompuTrainer: http://www.racermateinc.com/computrainer.asp

Let me know if you find any others.

Cycling Nations

Ever since the return to trade teams in the 1969 Tour de France, the thought of having national teams has been firmly buried. In the last few months this burnt Phoenix has been squawking.

Notably there has been talk of a British cycling team. There are enough pro’s of British descent to mould a team GB. Riders like Scot David Millar, Manxman Mark Cavendish, Geraint Thomas and Bradley Wiggins are all potential riders on this squad.

Katusha – the new Russki formation has also been promulgating its desire to form an eastern bloc team.

Astana is basically a national team – with a peculiar combination of a Belgian manager, a Spanish leader and baby-making Texan as the co-leader. Vino – the monosyllabic cyclist - is so popular that he could even manifest political desires in his country where its name - Kazakh - means “Man”.

The Basque riders of Euskaltel-Euskadi are a patriotic bunch of cyclists. There a no known links to ETA - the terrorist organization.

The organization of national teams is beset with polemic dilemmas:

• Vinokourov was given a 1 year ban by his fan worshipping national doping agency.
• The Orange clad riders could call on plastique explosive experts to resolve Pyrenean stages.
• Team GB will avoid races like the Sun Tour because of their lily white skins. Just look at Millar’s sun screen bill.
  

All cycling needs is another Cold War and the return of the Peace Race.

Keep national teams out of the ProTour – it will be a lot less messy and probably less bloody too.

Rock Steady Ship

When Rock and Republic tycoon Michael Ball started Rock Racing it was met with mixed feelings in the cycling community.

On the good side there was an injection of sexiness and showmanship into an otherwise traditional arena. His detractors, however, admonished him for using cycling as his own quick-win marketing fiefdom – with no regard for further sullying cycling’s name.

Most fans have stopped to dream of angels on wheels a long time ago. We have become hardened to the professionals who treat our sport with disingenuous disdain.

We understand Rock Racing's logo of a macabre skull with Gabriel’s wings. It is reflective of our sport today.

What I do have a problem with is Michael Ball's marketing men’s tagline – “Here to stay”. It reminds me of the Titanic’s claim to be unsinkable.

How many souls perished in that disaster?

Italian Inquisition

Cycling’s rogue gallery is swelling. The Italian Olympic Committee has recommended that Ricardo Ricco’s stick-like sidekick – Leonardo Piepoli - get a two year ban.

Piepoli is another rider along with Kohl, Schumacher, Duenas, Cobo and Ricco who treated us like fools. Forget polygraphing these idiots, they are so full of themselves and EPO that they won’t register a jot of guilt on the truth sheet.

I have come up with a plan, after studying hours of race footage, especially centered on the finale of a race, and the podium.

Here it is: any rider winning and not displaying genuine emotion after slogging over 220km’s of ragged-toothed terrain, or cyclists on the top step being indifferent will be reason enough to get Team Dracula to request a bloody sample on the spot.

This comes after watching the likes of Ricco and Piepoli soil the victory ceremony.

It may seem like a throwback to the Spanish and Italian inquisition, but cycling’s faith is at stake.

Enough of these specimens contaminating our sport!

Weight Watchers

Jan Ullrich suffered from Christmas pudding stuffing. Greg LeMond’s winter weight gain excuse was excessive cross-country skiing (adding bulk to his upper body).

Cycling is a sport as anal about weight as ballet dancing. Luckily ballerina’s can smoke as an appetite suppressant. Cyclists aren’t even allowed to take diuretics, and I haven’t seen a smoker in the professional peloton for as long as I can remember.

If there was ever a smoking contender, I would have to point at the chameleon like Dave Zabriskie. Puffing on a pipe would actually suit his All-American looks. I can imagine him pulling out a hubbly- bubbly at the back of the Garmin cruise-mobile, enticing some of his compatriots with his tentacled bong. Or perhaps he would be more (m) aligned to the Clint Eastwood style cheroot.

Regardless of smoking gammon or fat turkeys, more professionals are turning up at their off season camps as lithe as a southern-hemisphered Aussie. To me it sounds like a deprived Christmas. I, with both hands, will be eating mince pies like a Japanese hamburger-eating-world-champion.

Wii Cyclists

Nintendo Wii injuries are becoming more prevalent in the computer household. I can imagine the emergency room nurse taking down the details of “how it happened.” No doubt the nurse will at least snicker and at worst burst out in laughter when you let on that your injury was computer-generated.

Smashing your computer rival in the face with a wireless tennis volley or putting out your back in an overambitious NHL puck-lunge have become common lounge disasters.

Just ask Mark Cavendish who recently injured his calf in the snowboarding computer game. This is almost as embarrassing as Laurent Jalabert’s light bulb changing accident.

When Wii brings out its Tour de France version make sure you and your team-mate avatars are ergonomically compatible, especially in the TTT. The emergency room nurse is unlikely to believe your version of events.

Ban White Shorts

It may seem absurd that I want to ban white clothing from the peloton, especially since Mama wears predominantly white robes. But I am making explicit reference to white cycling shorts.

It only recently dawned on me why the Fd'Jeux team have alternate blue cycling pants (note that Agritubel are still unaware of their faux pas).

It happened in a race a few years ago that started in perfectly good African weather – hot and balmy. Dark storm clouds soon ballooned overhead and then gushed down on us.

The water-roosters sprayed into my grime filled eyes. I perched my Oakley’s onto the edge of my nose as I looked onto the rider in front of me. It was with shock that I noticed his white shorts had become see-through, completely revealing.

There is no way to rewind a memory, or erase chunks of mind data (I contemplated a pre-frontal lobotomy, but I need all the grey matter I’ve got).

Snow professionals advise new skiers in snow abundant regions - “Don’t eat the yellow snow!"

I say that it should be emblazoned on every cyclist’s short purchase – “Don’t wear white cycling shorts in the rain!”

Dumb and Dumber

It has been brewing for a while – a venting session against the dopers (another against the prepatore is to follow). My vexation this time is squarely reserved for the Teutonic pixie – Stefan Schumacher.

Not only because of his dumb and dumber antics of attacking in back-to-back mountain stages, but also for taking two stage wins while doped up to the gills. Add to this the fact that he still wants his Quick Step contract honoured for 2009! Does this man not know his own intellectual limits?

Now Bernard Kohl, his awkwardness apparent on the podium and in just about any social gathering, was a slightly more tolerable cheat. He didn’t go on a day-to-day blitz session like his Prussian counterpart. The Austrian was seemingly contrite and made a number of heart wrenching public apologies.

We will probably find Herr Schumacher and Kohl in a few years time delivering the post or selling DB railway tickets in Dresden. That is where all bad pros spend their post-cycling careers.

Last year on July 15th, Stage 8 to Tignes, Stefan Schumacher was struggling up the 20 km Cormet de Roselend climb.

I was positioned just 5km into the climb. Papa was some 60km’s away near the finish at Tignes.

Schumacher was behind the main group - alone and soundly dropped. And this is where I gleefully beat a rival fan to a keepsake that the German discarded. And now I can’t believe that I have a talisman of his – a jettisoned Gerolsteiner water bottle from his cage (probably where he belongs).

Prepatore - doctors or preparers who help cyclist's to dope