Category: Tour de France

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.

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.