- Published on
"It Has to come from your Toes" -MVDP
Thank You Mathieu Van Der Poel for digging deep on Sunday.
You are back on my Christmas card list.
...I take back anything bad I may have said about your Tacky Richard Mille.
The Vuelta is Yours if you even want it still.
Anyway, Thanks.
See you in September.
- Published on
If you knew the day, the time, and the way you were going to die, what would you change right now? Some whack-tastic experimental treatment? Sex-change?, Boob-Job? ...a Bavarian Nudist colony?, Sky-dive?, Fly to Mars, Eat nothing but Waygu, and French Ice-cream? Steal a plane and land it on the white-house ball-room?
Bet it all on a single Race?
If I've got a hard time getting my cycling friends to listen to "The Cycling Podcast", how the fuck could anyone get Non-Cyclists to wear a thong, paint themselves green, & run through the Tour De France Crowd? Even if you still don't know what "Off-Sides" means, you can cheer for the world cup.
In Futbol There will be upsets, because player can't be choosey.
**[DISCLAIMER: Tadej Pogačar is an amazing Athlete, and NOT at all like Lance Armstrong... as far as I know but he is bad for Cycling as a "Sport"]
As Usual, I have no Idea what I'm talking about, ...But the current TDF is a fucking bore, [SPOILER ALERT], There will be no upsets this year. No Underdog story, No Podium Upsets, No Mystery -- In short, No Joy. It's a repeat.
Groundhog day. Even if Number two breaks his collar bone, the outcome is still assured. A messianic annunciation of one uber-mensch. Sorry Del Toro.
Friends of the sport, and hostiles alike just can't get any joy from a race where the outcome is assured. The Tour De France is bad break-up sex without orgasm. A reminder that you should have kept your zipper up.
Sure there are exciting moments, Like when Focaccia lets a team-mate win a stage or two.
It's death in straight sets, A 5 - Nil soccer score.
When someone else wins the time trial, it's just to make things seem fair. But scattering some obstacles under the Monster-Truck is ONLY for the fan's satisfaction of splintering wood, and crushed barrels. The Monster-Truck is unstoppable, brutal, stinky, but it's not a sport.
Ignoring sports-washing by Gulf States. Ignore the Ads for Lux Duty Free Shops, masquerading as Desert Spas, There are no happy endings out back.
"Please come to our Disney-esque water-parks in an impossible oil-desert". We'll manage the kids, dad gets a rub and tug, while we empty mommy's account. Today's TDF is chugging de-sal pumps burning dinosaurs into blue water to fill swimming pools, But it's NOT amazing. It's 3D printing saddles, and bespoke carbon one-offs, but it's ignoring the sport. For sport to exist, we need athletes, and fans in a careful balance. If you can ignore $25,000. bikes, Poop-Transplants, Uber tacky Ricard Mille's, McLaren's, and the Monaco jet-set... What is a race for Third-place worth to you? Are we really so fanatical that we prefer Kings, Tsars, and Caesars over Art, Craft, Adventure, and Underdogs? Do we want to see our favorite band at an intimate club show?, or a Stadium Tour?
Relax, You cant afford this.
Suspend your disbelief, and embrace the UAE as the world's largest cruise ship, selling obscure Daytona's, Vuitton, Stainless Colnago's, and Patek's at the gift shop. When you disembark .0001% of attendees can afford the souvenir scarf or mug. As if it were not difficult enough to get your friends to watch a single stage of the TDF with you -- This race holds nothing but heartbreak. Other teams are holding bake sales to buy innertubes, and taking neutral support bikes to cut costs, while Oil Barons fix the fight by SMS.
We now have a void of competition. A single outcome. A surety that money talks and everyone else could either pander a Gulf state for an allowance, or sit on their fucking hands. There are NO underdogs, No surprises, No magical thinking which will change the outcome. Competitors will struggle and suffer as in any real race, but they wont podium. These are indeed strange times.
Bet it all on a single Race?
If I've got a hard time getting my cycling friends to listen to "The Cycling Podcast", how the fuck could anyone get Non-Cyclists to wear a thong, paint themselves green, & run through the Tour De France Crowd? Even if you still don't know what "Off-Sides" means, you can cheer for the world cup.
In Futbol There will be upsets, because player can't be choosey.
**[DISCLAIMER: Tadej Pogačar is an amazing Athlete, and NOT at all like Lance Armstrong... as far as I know but he is bad for Cycling as a "Sport"]
As Usual, I have no Idea what I'm talking about, ...But the current TDF is a fucking bore, [SPOILER ALERT], There will be no upsets this year. No Underdog story, No Podium Upsets, No Mystery -- In short, No Joy. It's a repeat.
Groundhog day. Even if Number two breaks his collar bone, the outcome is still assured. A messianic annunciation of one uber-mensch. Sorry Del Toro.
Friends of the sport, and hostiles alike just can't get any joy from a race where the outcome is assured. The Tour De France is bad break-up sex without orgasm. A reminder that you should have kept your zipper up.
Sure there are exciting moments, Like when Focaccia lets a team-mate win a stage or two.
It's death in straight sets, A 5 - Nil soccer score.
When someone else wins the time trial, it's just to make things seem fair. But scattering some obstacles under the Monster-Truck is ONLY for the fan's satisfaction of splintering wood, and crushed barrels. The Monster-Truck is unstoppable, brutal, stinky, but it's not a sport.
Ignoring sports-washing by Gulf States. Ignore the Ads for Lux Duty Free Shops, masquerading as Desert Spas, There are no happy endings out back.
"Please come to our Disney-esque water-parks in an impossible oil-desert". We'll manage the kids, dad gets a rub and tug, while we empty mommy's account. Today's TDF is chugging de-sal pumps burning dinosaurs into blue water to fill swimming pools, But it's NOT amazing. It's 3D printing saddles, and bespoke carbon one-offs, but it's ignoring the sport. For sport to exist, we need athletes, and fans in a careful balance. If you can ignore $25,000. bikes, Poop-Transplants, Uber tacky Ricard Mille's, McLaren's, and the Monaco jet-set... What is a race for Third-place worth to you? Are we really so fanatical that we prefer Kings, Tsars, and Caesars over Art, Craft, Adventure, and Underdogs? Do we want to see our favorite band at an intimate club show?, or a Stadium Tour?
Relax, You cant afford this.
Suspend your disbelief, and embrace the UAE as the world's largest cruise ship, selling obscure Daytona's, Vuitton, Stainless Colnago's, and Patek's at the gift shop. When you disembark .0001% of attendees can afford the souvenir scarf or mug. As if it were not difficult enough to get your friends to watch a single stage of the TDF with you -- This race holds nothing but heartbreak. Other teams are holding bake sales to buy innertubes, and taking neutral support bikes to cut costs, while Oil Barons fix the fight by SMS.
We now have a void of competition. A single outcome. A surety that money talks and everyone else could either pander a Gulf state for an allowance, or sit on their fucking hands. There are NO underdogs, No surprises, No magical thinking which will change the outcome. Competitors will struggle and suffer as in any real race, but they wont podium. These are indeed strange times.
So why Bother?
When will it end? When will the Yankee's stop winning? When will Jonas just say "Fuck This" Tumble over his handlebars, and retire? Why are we doing the Lance Dance all over again? I'm not suggesting that Focaccia is cheating, I'm suggesting that the struggle of teams to make ends meet as compared with boundless wealth pumped like Crude from the Emirate's means that whomever of your "Favorite Rider" -- Everyone else will remain a "Runner-Up". This is the TDF. If you don't sign with a Sultan, then you are the "Bad News Bears", (a sweet talent-show) -- unbound for Broadway. You will need to play dirty for airplay.
What gets me, is everyone fawning over the incumbent as though THE GOLDEN BOY KING, is good for pro cycling?
HOW, Pray Tell?
Let's have a snack, and protract our myopic narrow-minded opinionated vitriol into the broader world of sport. When Men's Swimming surrounded a single web-handed giant, all comers either pissed the pool, or exhausted themselves as runner-up. Nobody else won, and American's ordained their athletic anomaly as Messiah. Ironically, it's hard for a swimmer to sell Nike, so Phelps sells Underwear and Spas.
When Nadal was at his Zenith, every contender showed up merely for their thrashing.
When Shawn White hit the Bowl, Couched fans hit their bowl, shot-gunned a Coors Light and took a piss, No clapping, just another 2160 -- The outcome was assured.
When Lance raced, American's stoked a small fire which would expand cycling to record sales, sell some Treks, and then crash like a blimp.
When Lance reluctantly quit the dope he struggled to reinvent himself as the same toxic Male, but now criticizing everything but sponsored sports drinks & tech bros.
Lance, the fraud is sipping tea with Greg Mortenson.
His basement bully pulpit, spartan, A musky pundit for angry white males nursing a grudge.
For any film-maker, building audience suspense is a full time job. IF your pal spoils the surprise ending... Then the thrill is gone, because you know what to expect.
"Oh, Hey!... I've seen this one" ...It's a Re-Run. Everyone tries to catch this guy, and some crash hard, but in the end he sweeps everything. Is that Sport, or slaughter? Is it fun waiting for him to break the record and retire, so other riders can have a swing? I've already seen this one... He betters the current record and then steps down gently to ease out of his day job -- Retiring with a Gulf Stream, and a Calatrava.
It's a Re-Run!
Why bother, Yawn!... when you know the outcome? Why pour another box of Cocoa Puffs and sink into the couch, If you know the ending? "These Days", watching SNL waiting for the skit to land an actual joke, is a quarterly affair at best. We've devolved into stale Trump Impersonations, Country-Pop musical acts, and Sleepy Colin Jost.
Mbappe', Messi, Novak, Woods, The Fucking Yankees... are not all bad for sport, mostly because they don't cherry pick their challengers. When Focaccia choses to miss the Giro, or Vuelta, I'm tuning in for the duration.
We watch the TDF as though Pogacar is a Rabbit pacing greyhounds around a track. "While the children adore him"... I see him as a tacky stickered pace car, all Ricky-Bobbied out, leading teams to the flag.
So now we wait for the GOAT to break all the records, and burn up in the sun. As with Lance, we can then get back to bike racing.
So Siexas sleeps. Sitting out a year or two, until a gap opens. Why not fantasize? Why not imagine a game where anyone can win?, Even a French guy.
Because without some imagination, the game is lame, The outcome is assured, and teams are systematically dismantled for lack of funding.
Yawn!
By the rules, UCI cycling is unwittingly pushing people toward Gravel, and Epic Races such as Unbound, Cape Epic. Rogues, and Privateers fill the void, because while the TDF has great food, beautiful scenery, and good wine, the theater is empty. Clap for the underdog.
This movie is re-run of a stale sequel.
