Month: July 2013

Break dancing

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 5 Comments

For a minute there today it looked like a Frenchie was actually going to score one for the home team, but it was not to be. In the final kilometer the chase swept past him as though he were the Maginot Line. One of Khal’s people got there fustest with the mostest.

But at least a break finally got ‘er done. I live for these long, doomed breaks, and now and then one actually makes it to the line. So chapeau to Matteo Trentin, who is probably no relation to Mario Trantino, the bike racer from Catanzia who figures so prominently in Jimmy Breslin’s “The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight.”

Tomorrow brings the Tour’s longest stage, up Mont Ventoux, a.k.a. The Giant of Provence, The Bald Mountain, and Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here. I don’t expect a long break, but I do anticipate plenty of doom.

Charles Pelkey and I will be rendering the action incomprehensible over at Live Update Guy, or at least I will be, so pop round and help console the consigliere for having employed such a feeble assistant.

Spanish fly

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

One Spaniard flies forward and another flies backward as Mr. 60%’s Saxo squad catches Zoom-Zoom Froome daydreaming about his big date in Paris. It may have been the most fascinating sprinters’ stage of the Tour that I’ve ever seen.

Sure, Zoom-Zoom still has more time than a Swiss clock factory. And yes, the mountains loom large starting this weekend. But it’s nice to see that not everyone is ready to take a knee just because Sir Dave unsheathed Nextcalibur on Corsica while Brave Brave Sir Wiggo’ rusts away back on Dear Old Blighty.

What we need to keep the ball rolling is some go-to-hell contender to launch a kamikaze attack on Ventoux or L’Alpe d’Huez. “Fuck a bunch of podium! Victory or death! Yaaaaaahhhhh!”

A guy can always dream.

House of Pain

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments
The Broadmoor
Stately old pile, ain’t it?

Between deadlines today I slipped out for a pleasant 25-miler, doing a couple of leisurely laps around The Broadmoor.

There’s a short, steady climb between halves of the golf course — a bit of road that the resort would like to close, the better to attract prestigious gatherings of prominent duffers — that tops out at Old Stage Road, just below the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, and you can approach it using three or four different routes.

Each summit ends with a shortish descent for recovery’s sake and a pass by the hotel itself so you can see how the other half lives before starting uphill again. It’s a nice way to flush out the headgear before getting back to business.

Upon returning I saw that our “leaders” in the House have decided that piling more misery atop the poor, infirm, elderly and unemployed is now called a “win.” How wonderful for them. Perhaps they can celebrate with a round of golf at The Broadmoor.