Round two

Via Facebook, Charles Pelkey advises as follows:

“Pathology is mixed. Nodes are clean, but tissue margins are not. Ready for Round II. The Rolling Stones were right: ‘What a drag it is getting old.’

Charles faces a second round of surgery to clean up around the edges, plus a dash of radiation, but he’s not lying around on the floor, drink-sodden and weeping, the way I would be (and often am anyway, regardless of how well things are going). He was in court today, handling a case, and another client just walked into his office for a consult as we were chatting on IM. So he’s still very much up and at ’em.

In other Velo news (ho ho ho), Neal Rogers has been named editor in chief, replacing the departed Ben Delaney. Please say a prayer, light a candle or sacrifice a goat on his behalf, but don’t blame him for the unintelligible quotes in the press release, which appears to be a Google machine translation of the original Cretin.

My personal fave is attributed to Peter Englehart, CEO of CGI: “His sense of what makes a strong editor will continue to represent Velo as the voice of authority in the cycling space that speaks with authenticity and uniqueness to the sport’s many fans.” But I doubt he actually spoke these words. Nobody can be this stupid, not even a TV guy.

The VeloHerd thins

It took a while for the word to filter down to the cycling press, but it seems that even a blind dog finds a Milk-Bone now and then — Bicycle Retailer and Industry News reports today that John Wilcockson and Charles Pelkey both got the heave-ho last week from Velo (formerly VeloNews) and VeloNews.com. They followed Velo editor in chief Ben Delaney out the door shortly after the 2011 Tour de France wrapped. Ben was not pushed; he jumped.

I’m not a staffer with Velo or VeloNews.com; never have been. I’m a free-lancer — an “independent contractor,” in the parlance of our times — and my contract with San Diego-based Competitor Group Inc., now the owner of Velo, VeloNews.com and a number of other publications and events, bars me from discussing any “confidential information” that I may come across in the course of doing my little bit of business with the company.

Given that the information about the sacking of John and Charles has become generally known — throughout the industry, anyway, via BRAIN, for whom I also perform my one-ring circus act  — I no longer feel compelled to refrain from discussing it, albeit with some circumspection. Like John, Charles and Ben, I have bills to pay.

John has covered more than 40 Tours and Christ only knows how many other races in his years with VeloNews and other publications. He is a walking, talking VeloHistory book, so crucial to the chronicling of the sport that I even forgive him for having been born a Limey instead of an Irishman. He and the original Trio — the other two being David Walls and Felix Magowan — hired me as a cartoonist in ’89, and the work that they and editor Tim Johnson kicked my way when I quit my last newspaper job in 1991 helped keep food on the table, beer in the fridge and the wolf from the door.

Charles, in his 17 years with the company, not only covered a ton of races, he became a respected authority on cycling’s governance, the abuse of performance-enhancing drugs and the arcane testing/appeals process. He wrote a popular online column, “The Explainer,” and assembled a worldwide audience of devoted fans who attended his live updates from the Tour and other events as if they were papal addresses from St. Peter’s Square.

The silly sod also routinely got up at 3 a.m. to post cycling news from Europe. You might get me up at that hour to face a firing squad, but probably not. “Fuck it, just shoot me here. Bring me a cup of coffee first. And a newspaper. And Elle MacPherson. Not necessarily in that order.”

Charles and are old pals who tag-teamed the VeloNews.com op’ for a lot of years, and I always worked the late shift, because I was not born a German and have no children to interrupt my sleep. Being old newspaper guys, we have the sort of professional relationship that lets us shout “Fuck you!” at each other without anyone’s feelings getting permanently hurt.

I’d say we’ll miss these guys, but that seems kind of obvious.

Pizza, love and understanding

It’s been heavy lifting over at VeloNews.com this weekend. You know you’re in for it when the memo describing the tasks to be performed bears the subject line, “Glad I’m not you. …”

Cactus flowers
I slipped out for a quick ride and saw that the recent light rain had lit up the Palmer Park cacti.

Tour de Suisse, Route du Sud, Ster ZLM Toer, Giro del Trentino, Giro della Toscana, Nature Valley Grand Prix, Harlem Skyscraper Cycling Classic, Nevada City Bicycle Classic, Tour of America’s Dairyland, Tour de Grafton, Tour de Beauce, the Race Across America — I’m telling you, the party never stopped. I’m still waiting on stuff and here it is wine-thirty already.

Speaking of parties, I had to quick whip up another tub of pico de gallo for a friend’s 60th birthday yesterday, between bouts of frenzied pixel-pushing, and naturally I was missing a few key ingredients and had no time to leg it to the store. So I subbed a couple jalapeños for the missing serranos and some Deschutes Twilight Summer Ale for the traditional Mexican beer and you know what? It didn’t suck.

But I could do with a break from the kitchen tonight, and thus Herself will be fetching a Luigi’s pizza home after her stint at the local Humane Society, where she spends a couple days each week helping lonesome critters find happy homes.

Me, I’m still helping Mr. Microsoft find a few typos that spell-check can’t handle.

I want my 60 minutes back, please

Well, that was sort of … meh. Got to admit, I didn’t catch the whole “60 Minutes” exposé — I was working the Amgen Tour for VeloNews.com and for some reason thinking 7 p.m. instead of 6, but wised up in time only to find out that the rabbit ears wouldn’t pull in CBS, so I had to try another pair and then rescan for channels, and yeah, duh, I’m an idiot — but from what I saw and have read since, I’m thinking CBS News can forget about the Peabody Award for this one.

It’s nice to see the mainstream media investing time and money in the Adventures of Big Tex and His Merry Men, but the tifosi knew most of the “revelations” going in, including the big one, which was “60 Minutes” alleging that faithful lieutenant George Hincapie may have tweeted before a grand jury in a canary-like fashion that would not get an attaboy from the Twitterer-in-Chief, Texus Maximus, El Jefe, to wit, Juan “Scarnads” Pelota his own bad self. As anyone who ever read Jimmy Breslin’s “The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight” knows, the only proper response to a question from a copper, a DA or anyone who can’t instantly provide you with the names of all his cousins is, “What could I tell you?” accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders.

Hincapie and “60 Minutes” agree that they did not speak to each other for this report — I haven’t seen anything about Hinc’ denying that he ratted out the Boss, no matter what you read elsewhere — and Big Tex’s goon squad are treating Hinc’ with kid gloves, refraining from calling him a serial liar, a drunkard, an admitted doper, a hater or a penny-dreadful author in search of a publisher, as they have Floyd Landis, Tyler Hamilton, Frankie and Betsy Andreu and just about anyone else who unlimbers his or her yap to do anything other than plant a wet one on Tex’s ass.

In fact, the Texicans say CBS has smeared Hincapie too, calling the statements attributed to him “inaccurate” and “the reports of his testimony … unreliable.” As for Hincapie, all he has said publicly is: “As for the substance of anything in the ’60 Minutes’ story, I cannot comment on anything relating to the ongoing investigation.” Hey, what could I tell you?

So as usual, it appears that the the shoes have only begun to drop. Envision Imelda Marcos flying a Stealth bomber with a full payload of Manolo Blahniks. Then take cover.

The art of sportswriting

Sunset on Herself's birthday
Here's another Hawaii shot — of the sunset on Herself's birthday as seen from the lanai of our rental house.

Matt Goss won a pretty damn’ exciting edition of Milan-San Remo today, pipping Fabian Cancellara and Philippe Gilbert in an eight-man dash to the line.

I watched the last couple hours of the race via streaming video, courtesy of La Gazzetta dello Sport, and once again was left wondering just how much longer print-and-pix websites are going to be able to keep hold of their readers. I mean, how are you gonna keep ’em down on the old Velo-farm when a guy can watch the entire race online — attacks, counters, crashes and all?

An unimpressive bit of popular fiction I was reading during vacation contained an interesting aside about sportswriters. The author, a former journo’, had a cop-shop reporter say that the sports guys had to be pretty good writers because their readers had already seen the televised events they were describing a day late and a dollar short. It took that little something extra to hold the fans’ interest, and the sportswriters had it.

Looks like our gang is gonna have to ramp it up a notch or two. Or three. I’m too old, cantankerous and unskilled to go looking for work, especially since I don’t particularly want to find it.

• Late update: I just noticed that there were all of two Americans in today’s race — George Hincapie (22nd) and Tyler Farrar (46th). Where the hell is everybody else, racing industrial-park crits in Boulder?

• Later update: Oh, goody, another war. A day without war is like a day without sunshine. The 3rd Brigade grunts who just got back to Fort Cartoon must be delighted. A fresh desert to fight in, don’t you know.