Month: July 2013

Paris, city of slights

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 18 Comments

Smiling into the cameras and dedicating his victory to his late mother, Zoom-Zoom Froome collected his final yellow jersey — and then the gendarmes leapt upon him, pinioning his arms and forcing him into a brisk perp-walk toward a jet-black Citroen 2CV, which whisked him away to a windowless concrete bunker where. …

Naw. Nothing like that happened. The Big Three duked it out at the line and Mad Manx found himself staring up the heavily muscled arses of a couple really fast Krauts. Not for the last time, either.

Meanwhile, Zoom-Zoom pissed away nearly a minute coasting home on the Champs-Élysées but still won the 100th Tour de France by 4:20 (ahem) over Nairo “That Creep Can Roll” Quintana, who must buy his kit in the Junior Girls section. Joaquim “Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em” Rodriguez finished third overall, 5:04 down, and was already talking about bringing some fresh pain at the Vuelta.

I don’t know how the big finish looked on TV, but it looked pretty feeble on an iMac, I can tell you that. Pro journos in attendance who shall remain anonymous were deploying phrases like “complete and total clusterfuck,” “totally overrun with VIPs and cellphones,” and “they turned the Arc de Triomphe into a video game that no one could understand.”

And the game has only just begun. Zoom-Zoom is all of 28 years old. Says St. Eddy: “I don’t see who can beat him in the coming years, unless Quintana significantly improves his time trialing.”

 

Slouching toward Paris

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments
Steelman Eurocross
The other day I rode my old Steelman Eurocross for the first time in a long while. It was a nice change from watching other folks ride.

Well, the Tour is sort of ambling toward the barn, and I guess I’ve officially lost interest.

Zoom-Zoom has more than five minutes on everyone now, and boy, wouldn’t this be an interesting race if he were not in it, with second through fifth separated by 47 seconds?

Not even a double helping of L’Alpe d’Huez and a bit of the bonk, exacerbated by a smallish fine and even smaller time penalty, could rattle Zoom-Zoom and his merry men.

Nor could today’s tough-on-paper stage, made tougher by a heavy rain that may have dampened the blue touchpaper back in the GC group as Rui Costa timed his attack perfectly and won his second stage. Saxo-Tinkoff is said to be focused on team GC now, since Super Spaniard apparently left his cape and tights in his other phone booth. This is right up there with kissing one’s sister.

Tomorrow brings a 125km hump from Annecy to Semnoz, the final summit finish of this Tour, and Sunday serves up the traditional Who Gives a Shit? parade stage, a festival of jackoffery that this time around will conclude in the evening, a brainstorm cursed roundly by the photographers who must shoot the race in the Parisian twilight and then try to file, eat, drink and sleep in a timely fashion.

Ah, well. Come Monday we will have our own bikes and (God willing) the time and legs to ride them. My ass is taking on the shape of this office chair, and it is an unfortunate combination, as neither has ever been a thing of beauty.

Charles Pelkey and I will be calling the final weekend of the 100th Tour over at Live Update Guy. Pop round and get your minimum daily requirement of snark while it’s hot.

¡Ay, Chihuahua!

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments

Ohhhhhhhhh-kay.

I thought Super Spaniard had this one in the bag. He was flat railing those downhill corners. Bobsledders, skydivers and fighter pilots were getting motion sickness just watching him.

And then Zoom-Zoom ambles on in after an ill-timed bike swap in the rain and croaks him by nine seconds.

You could read Super Spaniard’s face like a marked deck: “Hijo de la gran puta.” He shook his head ruefully and smiled with the lower half of his face, the way one does upon being cheated at five-card stud in a strange town while unarmed.

I don’t know what to think, myself. I’m deeply suspicious of this sort of dominance — call me irresponsible — and I don’t like it one bit that Zoom-Zoom is already trying to play the patrón without even having won the fucking race yet.

Bjarne Riis called him a pussy, but he sure doesn’t ride like one. In fact, I’m starting to think Zoom-Zoom can take Mr. 60% in a straight-up Huffy toss.

Backseat drivers

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments

Super Spaniard intercoursed the penguin in a downhill corner today and Zoom-Zoom enjoyed a brief dalliance with the roadside foliage.

Afterward, Zoom-Zoom was critical of the way ol’ Supe’ was leading him down that hill.

“If you ask me, it was dangerous for Alberto to do that,” said Zoom-Zoom.

“That’s cycling,” replied Supe’.

I’m going to have to rule for Super Spaniard here. Zoom-Zoom wasn’t looking any too skilled in the corners his own bad self, and in any case wheelsuckers don’t get to talk shit. Not even one who’s wearing the yellow jersey.

So, pipe down already. Don’t make me stop this blog and come back there.

Mont Saywhat?

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 21 Comments
What are YOU on?
Hey, this guy looks familiar. …

I needed a rest day after Mont Ventoux, having thrown my back out while picking my jaw up off the floor.

The smart money was saying that Zoom-Zoom Froome would not win the stage, but would take time on his rivals for The Big Shirt. Uh huh. Not even Nairo Quintana was buying that one, and he was riding alongside the yellow jersey. For a while, anyway.

Now Zoom-Zoom has more than four minutes on everyone with a week left to race and even the dumb money is going, “Mmm hmm.” For his part, Zoom-Zoom says there is no comparison to be made between him and Ol’ Whatsisface. You remember. That guy.

“I’m not cheating. End of story,” says Zoom-Zoom.

Well, actually, no, it’s not the end of the story, Zoom-Zoom old scout. These tales take a while to spin, if recent history is any guide, and this big yellow book is liable to remain open for a spell. Sorry ’bout that.

See, the last few tenants left the maillot jaune in an awful state and we’re still trying to get the damage deposit back.