The Philter

July 26, 2007

Death of a Tour

The robots who analyze everything I do are wondering why I haven’t written a word about the Tour de France since 2005. There are two reasons. One is that I burned myself out writing about it every damn day for a month. The other is that it’s getting harder and harder to care about Le Tour. Last year, a doping scandal on the eve of the race forced many of the contenders, including Ivan Basso and Jan Ullrich, to drop out. Floyd Landis appeared to redeem the event with a superhuman comeback leading to a triumphant victory, then got caught up in a drug controversy of his own.

This year, things have gotten ridiculous. Just in the last three days:

• Alexandre Vinokourov got thrown out over a blood transfusion. This resulted in the withdrawal of his team, Astana, including Andreas Klöden, who was fifth overall at the time.

• Christian Moreni tested positive for testosterone and got the boot along with his team, Cofidis.

• And to top it all off Michael Rasmussen, who had been in the yellow jersey for a week and looked virtually certain to win the Tour, got kicked off his team for hiding his whereabouts, apparently to avoid a drug test, earlier in the summer.

As of today, only 142 of the 189 riders who started remain, and they’re dropping like flies.* The champion-apparent has vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving rookie Alberto Contador atop the general classification. And with three days to go before the Tour ends, we still don’t know who won last year’s race, because no definitive decision has come down on the Landis situation.

I’ve been trying my damndest to give a crap, but I don’t think I can keep it up. French newspapers have been saying that the Tour is dead (only in French—“Le Tour Est Mort,” something like that). Of course, they love to be dramatic, and I’m pretty sure they’ve considered the Tour dead since Lance Armstrong started winning every year…but this time, they may be on to something.


* Since I started writing this, I’ve learned that Rabobank leader Denis Menchov up and quit the race halfway through today’s stage. The Web site cyclingpost.com says: “No crash was reported to have happened prior to the abandonment, which makes it likely that the rider retired due to a lack of motivation following the Rasmussen scandal.”

Posted by bill at 11:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 24, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 21, a.k.a. The End of the Tour

Stage 21 wasn’t the first time Lance Armstrong and Jan Ullrich have held hands in public.

It was supposed to be a day for relaxation and celebration at the Tour de France. Since 1990 the last stage has been considered an “epilogue,” not a competitive part of the Tour per se, though the stage win is contested among the sprinters. To be honest with you, I’m a little fuzzy on how this part of the Tour works. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing actually preventing the riders in second, third, and fourth overall from trying to gain time on the leader in the final stage; it is simply not done.

There’s something very European about that. It seems strange to us here in the U.S., where we love a winner, hate a loser, and don’t give a damn about anything else; but in the culture of the Tour it’s very important to honor the code, follow the etiquette, and remain gracious whether you win or lose.

For a long stretch of Stage 21, which started at a mellow pace under sunny skies, Lance Armstrong and Jan Ullrich rode side by side. Now, Lance has humbled a lot of people in his seven years of dominance, but no one has suffered more than Ullrich. Ullrich won the Tour in 1997 and looked like he might be a candidate to run off four, five, maybe even six in a row. In a 1998 Tour marred by a drug scandal, Ullrich came in second. He missed the race in 1999 with a knee injury and since then Lance has won every year while Ullrich has finished second, second, second, third, fourth, and this year third again. He has also been the victim of several of Lance’s most cold-blooded moments, including one known simply as “the Look,” where he came up from behind Ullrich on a climb, passed him, glanced back at him with withering equanimity, and took off like a rocket, leaving the German far behind.

Despite all that, the two looked quite friendly today, engaging in what appeared to be a very pleasant conversation and even holding hands at one point. After that Lance made the rounds, exchanging greetings with a number of different riders, and team manager Johann Bruyneel showed up with the champagne.

Things got more serious as the peloton approached Paris and the first real rain of this year’s Tour came down. There were a bunch of crashes, including one that could have been a major disaster. George Hincapie, Lance’s right-hand man, skidded on a curve and went down, taking out two other members of the Discovery Channel team. Lance himself was slightly behind the others and only had to put his foot down and change direction; but had things gone a little differently, he could have been injured. This served as a vivid reminder of the fact that in winning seven Tours, Lance has been incredibly lucky as well as incredibly good.

It was still raining as the race moved onto the treacherous cobblestones of the Champs-Elysées for the first of the eight laps that conclude the Tour. Race officials had decided in advance that if it was raining, the Tour clock would be stopped after the first of the eight and the rest would count only for the stage win. So most of the riders played it safe for the last seven laps, but not Alexandre Vinokourov and Bradley McGee, who fought it out at the finish. Vinokourov turned out be just a little bit stronger and got the win.

And just like that, it was finally over. Lance was immediately taken off to be drug-tested for the 18th time this week, and my assistants and I took advantage of the break in the action to do a couple victory laps around the living room to “The End of the Tour” by They Might Be Giants.

I didn’t quite understand what I was getting myself into when I undertook this journey. There have been lots of ups and downs along the way, but now that it’s over, I feel as if I have completed my own personal Tour de France. In the famous words of the infamous J.R. Rider, I said I was going to do it and I did it; I have to love myself for that.

The ceremonial champagne awaits, and then perhaps a nap. There are just a couple orders of business to clear up first.

THE THANKS

I’d like to thank Mom and Dad for making me possible.

I’d like to thank the whole Vortex clan for their invaluable support.

I’d like to thank Crispy Bacon, who generously provides server space and tech support for this monkey-brained writer, as well as several others I could mention.

I’d like to thank Over Medium and Raw Meat Patrol, who watched the last stage with me while listening patiently to my ranting.

I’d like to thank my several faithful readers, without whom I would be unread.

I’d like to thank the kittens for being so goddamn cute.

And finally, I’d like to thank the Outdoor Life Network’s entire team of commentators — Al Trautwig, Phil Liggett, Paul Sherwen, and last but not least genial nutjob Bob Roll — for their knowledge, sense of humor, and unflagging enthusiasm. Even though it can be a little annoying when they insist that every single stage is among the most thrilling they’ve ever seen, they kept me going when things got rough. After spending an ungodly number of hours listening to them call the race, I feel like they are close personal friends. I may be in need of professional help.

THE PREDICTIONS

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel that I must take responsibility for the predictions I made at the beginning of the week. They didn’t go so great. I correctly picked the first, second, and third place finishers, but a woodpecker could have done that. I grossly overestimated Ivan Basso and Jan Ullrich’s ability to gain time on Lance; instead of making things closer through the week, they finished 4’40” and 6’21” behind, respectively.

I picked Mickael Rasmussen in fourth place, but he ended up finishing seventh. I’m going to give myself a pass on this one, because there’s no way I could have known he would completely fall apart in Stage 20, crashing twice, including one where he literally flew over the handlebars, and changing bikes four times. At one point it looked like Rasmussen was going to just throw up his hands and quit, but he did eventually finish, losing almost eight minutes on the day. Fourth place ended up going to Francisco Mancebo.

I had Levi Leipheimer in fifth place, and he was in fact in fifth place right up until the last minute of the Tour. But then there were some shenanigans. At first, we were told that there would be no time bonuses in the final stage; then somebody decided to award Alexandre Vinokourov a 20-second bonus for winning the stage, which was just enough to lift him over Leipheimer into fifth place. So I’m going to call that one a push.

I picked the white jersey and polka dot jersey winners correctly, but those were gimmes. The only tough call was the green jersey, which I am pleased to note went to mighty Norwegian Thor Hushovd rather than my pick, jerkface Robbie McEwen.

On the whole, I can’t claim to have made any prediction that was worth a damn. But this was only my third Tour, and my first as a self-proclaimed expert. I hope to do better next year. Which reminds me….

THE PLEA

Finally, I’d like to ask anyone who’s been reading this epistle to leave me feedback in the form of a comment. Writing about the Tour has been a form of practice�I’m not sure for what exactly, but we’ll find out. So let me know what you liked and what could have been better. Peace, I’m out.

Posted by bill at 2:51 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

July 23, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 20

Well, that mean ole devil want to catch Lance
Want to stick that pitchfork in his ass
Yes, that mean ole devil want to catch Lance
But Lance, he just too fast

–Blind Lemon Peloton
“Lance and the Devil Blues”

Let us now worship Lance Armstrong.

Lance — I feel comfortable calling him Lance now — came in first in the time trial today, beating a very motivated Jan Ullrich by 23 seconds. In doing so, he won his first stage of the 2005 Tour and guaranteed that he will complete his seventh overall victory tomorrow.

Just about the whole world is united in its admiration for his achievement, and while I am constitutionally averse to holding popular opinions, I just can’t find any reason to feel otherwise.

Sure, there are some haters out there who will tell you that we should turn against Lance because a) he’s on the juice, b) he dumped his wife for Sheryl Crow, or c) he’s only pretending to be such a nice guy and underneath is a cold-blooded, manipulative egomaniac.

Well, a) he’s had more drug tests than Robert Downey Jr. has had drugs, b) that’s really his own personal business, and c) if he’s pretending, he’s every bit as good an actor as he is a cyclist.

Try as I might to avoid becoming a Lance partisan — mostly because I detest the screaming, flag-waving yahoos you see cheering for him at the Tour — I am continually disarmed by his demeanor. He is supremely self-confident without crossing the line into arrogance. He believes in himself more than anyone I’ve ever seen with the possible exception of Muhammad Ali and Michael Jordan (for those of you keeping score at home, that’s the third Jordan reference in my Tour coverage). But he never talks trash about his opponents, never disparages them, just crushes their will by outperforming them.

So I surrender. I, too, am a big Lance fan and will be toasting him as he rides into Paris tomorrow.

Meanwhile, it’s Saturday night here in Oaktown, and I have neither the time nor the inclination to assess Lance’s legacy in detail, as every sportswriter in creation is doing today. Chuck Squatriglia did a very nice job in today’s San Francisco Chronicle, so I am providing a link to his article here.

But before I go, I just want to say this one thing: We have precious few heroes and precious few reasons to celebrate these days. All you haters, take tomorrow off.

Posted by bill at 7:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 22, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 19

“Everyone knows which comes first when it’s a question of cricket or sex — all discerning people recognise that. Anyway, don’t forget one doesn’t have to do two things at the same time. You can either have sex before cricket or after cricket — the fundamental fact is that cricket must be there at the center of things.” –Harold Pinter

Little of import happened in Stage 19 unless you’re a big fan of Giuseppe Guerini, the stage winner, or Oscar Pereiro, who moved into the Top 10 as a result of his time gain. At this point watching the Tour has become kind of like watching cricket — or rather what I’ve always imagined watching cricket would be like, since I’ve never actually seen a cricket match.

You find yourself a comfortable seat next to a tall, attractive adult beverage. You have your snacks and if possible your pets close at hand. You drink a toast to Montgomery Scott and after a while you begin to enter a pleasant sort of fugue state. The competition recedes into the background and your mind wanders to other places, other times. You think of friends not present, a favorite child, romances that may or may not have actually happened. You contemplate what could have been or better yet, what might still be.

You may even drift off into a light slumber from time to time. Then the race approaches the finish line, there’s a perceptible but not jarring uptick in the excitement level, and you bring yourself to a state of alertness for as long as it takes the day’s proceedings to come to a conclusion. As the competitors fight it out for the victory your heart rate quickens slightly but only slightly; you know that the stakes are not too high, that there will be more to see tomorrow and the day after.

Tomorrow will be Stage 20, the last time trial and the last “real” stage. The day after is the ceremonial ride into Paris, where it is considered bad form to make a spectacle of yourself by trying too hard. So everyone’s final standing will depend on how they perform in the penultimate stage, a 55.5-kilometer (34.5-mile) loop from Saint-Etienne, across some medium-sized climbs and descents, and back to Saint-Etienne.

Most people think that Lance Armstrong, who’s still looking for his first stage win this year, will take Stage 20. Armstrong himself has been coy, saying that he thinks Jan Ullrich is the man to beat. And Ullrich will certainly be pushing himself to max and making lots of ugly faces, because he has to make up two minutes and twelve seconds on Mickael Rasmussen to move into third place and onto the podium. Levi Leipheimer, meanwhile, has to beat Francisco Mancebo by a minute and five seconds to achieve his stated goal of moving into fifth place, thus vindicating my prediction that he would do so.

The forgotten man in second place is Ivan Basso, who would have to beat Armstrong by 2’47” to shock the world and take the yellow jersey. This is virtually impossible, but let’s imagine for a moment what would happen if it weren’t. Certainly Armstrong wouldn’t concede; he and Basso would have to fight it out in the final stage, etiquette or no etiquette. Now that would be a race worth staying awake for.

Posted by bill at 6:46 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

July 21, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 18

James Doohan will be drinking Scotch and smoking a cigarette in heaven tonight.

Today’s stage of the Tour de France was cancelled due to the death of James Doohan, who played Scotty on Star Trek.

Psych! No, they went ahead with the race, but for the fourth stage in a row, there’s not much to report except that:

A) Lance Armstrong did not fall off his bike and was not poisoned by a vengeful French chef or punched in the pancreas by a wine-crazed fan. Nor did a giant hand reach down from the sky and flick him into a crevasse. He was not beamed up into a starship that had traveled back in time to prevent some dire future event. If these things continue to not happen for the next three days, Armstrong will win his seventh Tour de France.

B) Somebody who’s been riding anonymously in the peloton all this time had a chance to grab some glory for himself, his team, and his country by winning the stage. In this case it was Marcos Serrano, a Spaniard who rides for Liberty-Seguros.

C) The TV coverage continued to focus less and less on the race and more and more on the scenery, the in-jokes among the broadcasters, and just about anything else. Here’s an exchange that took place between commentators Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen concerning a roadside crop design in the shape of a bicycle:

Liggett: “I’ll never know how they make the wheels so perfectly round.”

Sherwen: “That’s extraterrestrials done that.”

Liggett: “Was it?”

Sherwen: “Oh yeah, definitely.”

For the next three days, expect a non-stop Lance lovefest. And what the hell, he’s earned it. A couple weeks back, one commentator compared winning seven Tours to hitting a thousand home runs, and I think that’s about right. He’s been so good, so consistently, for so long that he’s broken the spirits of everyone else in his sport.

Armstrong hasn’t shown a single moment of doubt or weakness in this year’s race, and if there had been little thought bubbles over the peloton in Stage 18, a lot of them would have said this: “Jeebus, I hope Lance retires after this year like he says he’s going to. Maybe then I’ll have a chance to win. I wonder what’s for dinner tonight?”

Posted by bill at 4:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 20, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 17

Upon further reflection, I think I can answer my rhetorical question from the previous entry. The question was, if you’re Ivan Basso or Jan Ullrich, what do you have to lose by going all-out to try to beat Lance Armstrong? The answer is, you could wipe yourself out and end up falling way down in the standings, or even not being able to finish the Tour.

Maybe I’m letting my reflexive American fetish for being number one cloud my judgment. Maybe coming in second or third is good enough. Maybe I should apologize to Ullrich, Basso, and Mickael Rasmussen for calling them “surrender monkeys.”

Maybe. Even having said all that, I can’t help but feel that after having ridden so many miles, suffered so much, and come so close, you would want to push yourself and see if you couldn’t win the damn thing.

Actually, for just a minute in Stage 17, Ullrich looked like he was taking a shot. After covering a fairly exciting if meaningless sprint to the finish by a group of non-contenders, the TV cameras switched back to the peloton and found Ullrich at the front, charging hard with a look of grim determination on his face.

But nothing came of it. Ullrich, Basso, Rasmussen, and the other big names all finished with the same time, and the Armstrong juggernaut rolled on for another day.

The stage winner was Paolo Savoldelli, who became the second Discovery Channel rider to win a stage. Oddly enough, neither one of them is Lance Armstrong, who has maneuvered into the overall lead without ever taking a stage himself (he was part of the winning team in Stage 4). He has four more chances before he hangs it up, theoretically for good, on Sunday. Will he pull it off? Do we care? Well, we’d better; it seems to be the only drama left.

Posted by bill at 9:04 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 19, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 16

Rasmussen, Ullrich, Basso: surrender monkeys?

If there’s one thing that still perplexes me about the Tour, it’s this: Everyone connected with the race, including the actual competitors, always seems to be falling all over themselves to declare a winner as soon as humanly possible.

As of yesterday, 15 of the 21 stages had been completed, a full week’s riding remained, and Lance Armstrong led his closest rival, Ivan Basso, by less than three minutes. And yet all the coverage assumed that an Armstrong victory was a foregone conclusion.

Including mine; I said yesterday that Armstrong is a mortal lock, and indeed it is highly unlikely that anyone will beat him. But it’s one thing for me to say it and another for Basso himself to say, as he did yesterday, “I’m not stupid. He’s strong. It’s finished.”

Memo to Mr. Basso: Dude, don’t give up so easily! If you take that attitude, you certainly are gonna lose. Meanwhile, Jan Ullrich was quoted thusly: “My aim now has to be the podium [top-three finish]. I can’t expect to do any better.”

I hate to say this, but…is it being in France that makes everybody so eager to surrender? Is it something in the water? Maybe these guys are just being realistic, but you’d like to see them believe in themselves a little bit. Isn’t that what we have professional athletes for in the first place?

Anyway, Stage 16: The stage winner was Oscar Periero, and good for him, because he’s ridden his ass off in several stages but kept coming up short until today. Armstrong rolled along very comfortably, and none of his main rivals made a peep. The most exciting moment of the day was when Andrey Kashechkin was whacked in the face by a fan at the side of the road, apparently with a blue noisemaking stick. With blood dripping from his nose, Kashechkin turned around and rode against the direction of the race — which you most decidedly are not allowed to do — looking like he wanted to find the fan in question and go all Ron Artest on him.

And then the TV coverage cut away and never mentioned the incident again. The only mention of it I could find on the Web was on CNN.com, which said that Kashechkin was “struck in the face by a spectator.” Roger Legeay, Kashechkin’s team manager, is quoted as saying “He received a punch in the face.” So maybe he was hit by a fist rather than a noisemaker, which makes rather more sense given the severity of the injury.

How sad is it that this is the big story of the day? Wouldn’t it be much better if there were actual Tour news to report? Basso, Rasmussen, Ullrich, I’m begging you: Suck it up, make some noise, add some drama to these last five stages. What do you have to lose?

Posted by bill at 12:48 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 18, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Rest Day 2

Among those recuperating today will be George Hincapie (far left), Oscar Pereiro (near left), and some dimwit who ran onto the course and got hit by a motorbike (bottom center).

You would think that, after riding 1152 kilometers (715 miles) in six days, the cyclists on the Tour would welcome a day off. But no, I am told that they don’t really want a rest day, that it throws off their rhythm. I don’t much care for the rest day either, because it reminds me that, to paraphrase Col. Kilgore, “Someday this Tour’s gonna end.”

Actually, on Sunday this Tour’s gonna end, as Stage 21 brings the peloton to Paris. Here’s what it will look like when they get there:

The winner — drum roll please — will be…

…duh, Lance Armstrong. Not a real exciting choice, I know, but you’d have to be an idiot to pick anybody else at this point. Lance has the form, the conditioning, the team, the strategy, and perhaps most importantly, the aura. Barring an injury or other act of God, Armstrong is a mortal lock to win his seventh Tour.

Second place will go to Ivan Basso of Team CSC, who will finish one minute and fifty-nine seconds behind. After looking very strong in the mountains, Basso is already in second with a time deficit of 2’54”. I figure he will gain some time at the beginning of the week and get close — agonizingly close — to Armstrong before falling back a little in Stage 20.

In third place will be Jan Ullrich of T-Mobile, 3’38” behind. Ullrich is currently in fourth place behind Mickael Rasmussen, but Rasmussen has shown signs of fading and the somewhat flatter stages this week are better suited to Ullrich’s style. I’m thinking Jan will have one really good day this week and pick up some time on Armstrong, but not enough to challenge for the crown.

I like Rasmussen to hang on for fourth place, about five minutes behind. He will probably be perfectly happy take his stage win and his King of the Mountains title — a.k.a. the polka dot jersey — and go home.

Fifth place, it says here, will go to Levi Leipheimer, say 30 seconds behind Rasmussen. Leipheimer has come on strong in the last week and is the star of the Tour’s best ad campaign, where a crew comes to interview him about his training but never gets to talk to him because he’s too busy training. (OK, I wouldn’t call these ads classic, but it’s a weak field.)

Also, the green jersey for the best sprinter will go to Robbie McEwen, because he is the goddamn devil; and the white jersey for best young rider will stay with Yaroslav Popovych, Armstrong’s heir apparent on Team Discovery.

One last prediction: If all these other predictions come true, I will be totally insufferable for at least a month and a half. This is the most reliable of all today’s many predictions. As Crispy Bacon might say, “It’s money in the bank.”

Posted by bill at 9:59 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 17, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 15

A mostly, but not entirely, flattering photo of the late Fabio Casartelli.

This was a strange day for the Tour de France because it was the tenth anniversary of the death of Fabio Casartelli, the third and most recent Tour fatality. Casartelli was descending the Col de Portet d’Aspet on July 17, 1995 when there was a crash in front of him. He was thrown from his bike and whacked his head on a concrete block at the side of the road, hard enough to cause a hemhorrhage that killed him.

The other two Tour deaths, in case you’re curious, were Tommy Simpson, who died of (possibly amphetamine-related) heart failure in 1967, and Francesco Cepeda, who “plunged into a ravine” in 1935. It’s serious business, this bike racing.

In Casartelli’s honor, Tour planners arranged for today’s Stage 15 to pass his memorial on the Col de Portet d’Aspet, and many of the riders were wearing “Fabio” wristbands. Before the stage, the TV commentators were saying that Lance Armstrong, who was Casartelli’s teammate in 1995, would make a special effort to win Stage 15. But as it turned out, it was Armstrong’s sidekick George Hincapie who crossed the finish line first, winning the first Tour stage of his 11-year career.

Hincapie joined an early breakaway of 14 riders that led by almost 20 minutes at one point. By the time they reached the finish, four first-category climbs and one beyond-category climb later, only Hincapie and Oscar Pereiro of the Phonak team remained. In the end, Pereiro appeared to concede the stage to Hincapie, unwilling or unable to make one last push at the end of a very long day.

Armstrong himself again rode much of the day in the company of Ivan Basso, who moved into second place overall on the strength of a very solid performance. Basso is now unquestionably the guy to watch if you want somebody to challenge Lance in the last week of the Tour. Mickael Rasmussen rode reasonably well but still lost time, falling to third place 3’09” behind Armstrong. Rasmussen is looking less and less like a threat and may not even be trying to win the Tour, aiming instead for the King of the Mountains title.

In fourth place now is good ol’ Jan Ullrich, 5’58” back. Ullrich keeps falling a little further behind in time every day, but keeps moving up in the standings because everybody else is doing worse. God love him, Ullrich doesn’t have the speed to hang with with Armstrong and Basso but he simply will not quit. He just keeps coming on like a Terminator in pink spandex.

Tomorrow is the second and final rest day, and after meditating for several hours I will publicly predict the top five finishers, in order, with time deficits. Then I will be flying to Vegas to win the money to attend next year’s Tour in person. Who wants to go?

Posted by bill at 5:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 16, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 14

This mascot is only one of T-Mobile’s many problems.

After a couple of mellow stages where the main contenders sat back and watched the also-rans compete for stage wins, things heated up in Stage 14.

I mean, literally, it was hot. The cyclists were pouring sweat as they suffered through one climb after another in the Pyrénées. They were taking any water bottle they could get from anybody, and most of the time just dumping it over their heads to cool off a little. It was so hot that one the guys from Euskaltel-Euskadi burst into flames at one point.

Or I may have imagined that. I was suffering too, for different reasons having to do with Scotch whisky. I was having trouble getting enough caffeine into my system to get my brain started, so when the moment came I’ve been waiting two weeks for — when somebody finally got Lance Armstrong in their crosshairs — I almost missed it.

Thank goodness for Phil Liggett, the main OLN play-by-play guy, who has mastered the baseball announcer’s art of speaking in a relatively soothing voice most of the time, then kicking it up a level to jolt you out of your stupor when things get exciting.

In my semi-consciousness I noticed that Phil was getting all worked up about something, then I saw that Armstrong in yellow was surrounded by guys in pink instead of his usual coterie of Discovery teammates in pale blue. As in Stage 8, the rest of Armstrong’s team had dropped out of the picture, leaving the boss to fend for himself.

Not only that, but he was being challenged by T-Mobile’s three best riders, Jan Ullrich, Alexandre Vinokourov, and Andreas Klöden. So this is it, I thought; T-Mobile is finally putting together a coordinated attack on Armstrong. Vinokourov surged ahead, and then something very strange happened: Instead of hanging back and letting their teammate get away, Ullrich and Klöden stepped on the gas, in effect leading Armstrong back into contact with Vinokourov.

Liggett and his partner Paul Sherwen started freaking out, wondering what the hell Ullrich and Klöden were doing. I couldn’t figure it out either, and I still haven’t. Even the official Tour de France Web site, usually totally devoid of opinion or insight, openly questioned T-Mobile’s strategy: “It was a tactic dreamed up to taunt Armstrong but the American didn’t need to do anything. Why? Because Ullrich and Klöden teamed up and set off in pursuit of their colleague. Huh?!”

Just like that, after momentarily looking vulnerable, Armstrong was back in charge and started pushing the tempo as the race climbed the 7.9 km, 8.3% slope to the ski resort at Ax-3 Domaine. Georg Totschnig, the eventual stage winner, was off on his own and mostly forgotten; all the attention was focused on Armstrong, who was accompanied by an ever-changing group that eventually came down to just Ivan Basso, the only rider who’s shown a consistent ability to stay with Armstrong on climbs, and Jan Ullrich, implacably soldiering on after Klöden and Vinokourov had dropped away.

Ullrich tried to move ahead, but overestimated the amount of energy he had left and was caught, then left behind by Armstrong and Basso. Finally, inside the last kilometer, Armstrong found a little burst that Basso couldn’t match, and managed to finish two seconds ahead. Ullrich came across 18 seconds after Basso.

Well, if that’s T-Mobile’s best shot, so much for them. The only riders who appear to still have a chance to create any problems for Armstrong are Basso and Michael Rasmussen, who lost a little time in Stage 14 but remains in second, only one minute and 41 seconds behind. Both Basso and Rasmussen are strong climbers and will probably go all out in Stage 15, the last in the Pyrénées. Ought to be a great race; come to think of it, I already have Stage 15 recorded, so why am I sitting here?

Posted by bill at 12:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 15, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 13

Sylvain Chavanel and Chris Horner are pursued by the forces of conformity.

For the most of the 160-some guys remaining of the 189 who started the Tour, this was as close to a day off as you can get while riding 108 miles. Stage 13 was almost completely flat, so none of Lance Armstrong’s rivals had a chance to try any funny business. Armstrong rode along looking almost happy, which is unusual for a man whose face is usually mask of concentration.

Meanwhile, five noncontenders broke away from the pack early and built up a lead that reached almost nine minutes at one point. I usually find myself rooting for a breakaway to succeed; it’s symbolic of individuality, nonconformity, something like that. In this scheme the peloton represents society, and every time you try to get ahead, it exerts a gravitational force that tries to suck you back in.

So I was pulling for the five escapees as their lead dwindled to 7’35”, then 6’40”, then 5’40”, then 4’35”, and so on, until it got all the way down to 15 seconds. Just when it looked like they were certain to be caught, Sylvain Chavanel — perhaps thinking it was still Bastille Day — peeled out from the peloton, caught the breakaway, stayed with them for awhile, and then surged ahead on his own. Of the five riders in the break, only Chris Horner had the wherewithal to catch up with Chavanel. The other four were quickly absorbed by the peloton and as the last kilometer approached, Chavanel and Horner were pedaling furiously to maintain a lead of about ten seconds.

The twists and turns in the last section of the course created a number of really dramatic images. Horner and Chavanel would turn a corner and be alone in the shot for a few fleeting seconds; then the leading edge of the peloton would appear behind them like an ominous cloud. The theme from Jaws would have been appropriate.

Alas, Chavanel and Horner just didn’t have enough left in their legs to stay ahead to the end. Instead they were swamped by the peloton and became just faces in the crowd. The stage was won, again, by goddamn Robbie McEwen, who is becoming my least favorite guy in the Tour. This may well be irrational, but I just think there’s something cheap about the way he wins, by staying back in the group the whole way and then sprinting to the finish.

He’s not the only one who does it, of course — there’s a whole subculture of sprinters in the Tour — he’s just the best. But the race could use a villain, and after head-butting Stuart O’Grady in Stage 3, then preening like Terrell Owens when he won Stage 5, McEwen is a good candidate.

Speaking of T.O…well, no, let’s not go there, it’s not a happy subject. Let’s stay focused on the Tour. In Stage 14 the riders will reach the Pyrénées, where the climbs will be even steeper than the ones in the Alps. Lance will be looking for a chance to take Mickael Rasmussen down a notch, but Rasmussen has shown no signs of weakness so far. It ought to be thrilling; but first, I think, a nap.

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July 14, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 12

It was a proud day for France. Go France!

I love to kid the French. They’re easy to kid: They talk funny, smoke all the time, love Jerry Lewis, wear berets, etc. etc. But in all honesty I have to say that I feel a lot more in tune with France these days than I do with many parts of the U.S. I’d much rather hang out with chain-smoking snobs than gun-toting fundamentalists any day of the week. And if I have to choose, I’ll certainly take The Nutty Professor over Blue Collar TV without hesitation.

I’ll take the Tour de France over NASCAR while we’re at it. At least the Tour goes somewhere instead of round and round in circles. But I am not here today to pick on Middle America and its diversions. I’m here to talk about Stage 12.

Today was Bastille Day, so the French riders were all jacked up. The French haven’t done so well in the Tour lately; no Frenchman has finished in the money since Richard Virenque came in second in 1997, and the last French champion was Bernard Hinault, who won his fifth Tour in 1985. This does not sit well with the natives, but they are somewhat placated if a French rider takes the stage on Bastille Day.

No doubt champagne glasses are being raised and calves’ brains fried all over France in honor of David Moncoutie, who crossed the finish line of Stage 12 well ahead of the peloton with a huge smile on his face. Maybe he was thinking about the honor he was bringing to his country, or maybe he was thinking of how he could get laid behind this for the rest of his life…no matter, the result is the same.

The good news for France didn’t stop there: Moncoutie’s fellow-countrymen Sandy Casar and Patrice Halgand finished second and fourth, respectively. The French sweep was broken up only by the third-place finish of Spaniard Angel Vicioso, who finally got his award-winning name into the papers.

I feel a little cruel for pointing out that all this meant nothing in the overall Tour picture, where that guy from Texas remains in the yellow jersey and the Dane in polka dots lurks 38 seconds behind.

There was one piece of news from Stage 12 with the potential to affect the outcome of the Tour: Armstrong lost one of his top lieutenants, Manuel “Tricky” Beltran, who fell on his head and had to drop out of the race. There are no substititions in the Tour de France, so Team Discovery will be a man short, but most of the teams have lost somebody by this point. I think that some of the commentators have been overplaying the impact of Beltran’s departure to heighten the drama, but we’ll see. After a flat stage tomorrow, the Tour hits the Pyrénées in Stage 14, and that’s when the real challenges to Armstrong’s dominion are likely to begin.

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July 13, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 11

It was a proud day for Kazakhstan. Go Kazakhstan!

It was a big day in every possible way. We finally passed the halfway point of the Tour. The riders had to deal with two huge climbs in the Alps, including the high point of this year’s race, the 8658-foot Col du Galibier. And the Outdoor Life Network responded with five hours of televised coverage, of which I was determined to watch every single minute, regardless of the risk to my health and sanity.

By pacing myself throughout the day, and with the Motorola DVR providing a big assist by allowing me to fast-forward through commercials, I was able to accomplish the great task. I’d like to thank my family; my kittens, Precious and Johnny Boy, who kept me company throughout the ordeal; and of course you, my many readers. Go ahead and pat yourself on the back.

The stage winner was Alexandre Vinokourov, who gave an exceptionally courageous performance a day after losing major time in Stage 10. Vinokourov joined an early breakaway that led the race up the Col de le Madeleine and down the other side. Then, as the route travelled up the Col du Télégraphe, down a little jog, and up the enormous Col du Galibier, the other members of the breakaway fell back one by one until Vinokourov was left all alone at the front.

Vinokourov never faltered and reached the summit well ahead of the peloton. He was joined on the descent by Santiago Botero, and those two rode together all the way to the finish. In the last few kilometers Vinokourov’s legs were shaking visibly; he had obviously used up all the energy he had and was now going on sheer will. Yet he found the strength to beat Botero in a sprint to the finish.

And after all that, Vinokourov gained one minute and fifteen seconds on Lance Armstrong, remaining 4:47 behind. He regained his pride but ultimately did little to get himself back into contention for the Tour victory.

The guy to keep an eye on in that respect is Michael Rasmussen, who stayed glued to Armstrong’s back wheel all day without appearing to break a sweat. Rasmussen remains in second place overall, just 38 seconds behind Armstrong. He must be part mountain goat, because he gets up and down these massive peaks with disturbing ease. Physically, he seems quite capable of challenging Armstrong; the question is going to be his psychological fortitude.

Like Michael Jordan, who I can’t seem to stop comparing him to, Armstrong is a master of the psychological game. He gets you to believe that you can’t possibly beat him, and so when it gets down to the nitty-gritty, you end up beating yourself. I’m pretty sure that this is why Jan Ullrich keeps falling short; he’s totally convinced now that he’s going to lose, and that’s exactly what happens.

Rasmussen has never faced the pressure of being in contention down the stretch, so he may crack, or he may be as oblivious as he seems. Hard to say; but you would be very, very foolish to bet against Lance.

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July 12, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 10

Stage 10 had everything you could ask for from the Tour de France: spectacular scenery, dramatic racing, a few crashes just to mix things up. This was the first stage this year where, if you weren’t watching, I think you really missed something.

Between the scenery and the racing, it’s hard to say which was more impressive. Even on TV, the cloud-wrapped peaks, towering waterfalls, and serene lakes of the Alps were too much to process. In person, it must be completely overwhelming.

The riders were not enjoying the terrain quite so much. This was an absolutely insane stage featuring two separate climbs of more than 6000 feet each. Now, I’m not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but I don’t think that’s such a smart idea. Shouldn’t you get the altitude sickness from that, or worse? I kept waiting for one of the cyclists to just explode, showering the crowd with blood and gristle.

You have to give much respect to anyone who’s willing to even attempt such a thing. And the climb isn’t even the most dangerous part of the day; that would be the downhill, where the riders routinely reach speeds of 60 miles an hour. Think about that for a minute. That’s 60 miles an hour, not kilometers. On a bicycle. Downhill on a winding mountain road. And if you pussy out you’re going to be disdained by your peers, yelled at by your boss, and possibly called out on international TV. No pressure there.

After ascending and descending the 1967-meter Cormet-de-Roselend, the riders got a little break in the valley and started up a 2000-meter peak called Courcheval. Up to that point, there had been some breakaways and some people getting left behind and some shifting around in the peloton, but nothing of major import.

On the way up Courcheval, Lance Armstrong’s Team Discovery took over the front of the peloton and set a brutal, grinding pace that started leaving riders behind almost immediately. One by one, the team members used up everything they had riding at the front and dropped away. Finally, with 7.1 miles left to go, Armstrong rode up beside his one remaining teammate, rookie Yaroslav Popovych, and yelled something in his ear.

That was Popovych’s cue to exhaust everything he had left in one furious 30-second burst and get lost, leaving Armstrong alone at the front of the pack. From that point on it was Armstrong alone against everybody else.

As with Michael Jordan, at some point you get tired of trying to come up with new ways to say how awesome Armstrong is. Just when you think you’ve had enough of the guy, he does something to remind you how he got be who he is.

This was simply a superhuman performance. Armstrong put on his game face and did not change expression the rest of the way up the mountain as the world’s greatest cyclists struggled to keep up with him. Three of them were up to it: Michael Rasmussen managed to look cool even in the polka-dot jersey, while two guys from the Illes Balears team, Francisco Mancebo and Alejandro Valverde, kept hanging around even though they were clearly in pain.

Speaking of pain, Jan Ullrich modeled an impressive repertoire of grimaces while riding two minutes behind — but give Jan some love, he didn’t quit, just kept propelling his big body up toward the finish. Meanwhile Alexandre Vinokourov had faded more than five minutes back and the man in the yellow jersey, Jens Voight, looked as if he’d lost the will to live, pedaling very tentatively about ten minutes behind the leaders.

Armstrong started the last kilometer still in a group with Rasmussen, Mancebo, and Valverde. Rasmussen prematurely tried to get away and was easily caught; then Armstrong, after riding 120 miles and climbing 12,000 feet, somehow found an extra gear and shot away from everybody. But wait — Valverde kicked it up a notch and stuck with him, and those two rode together to the finish line, where Armstrong appeared to ease up and cede the stage to the 25-year-old Spaniard.

After the finish Armstrong gave Valverde a nice handshake, as if to say, “You done good, kid.” Of course, had the stage win been important to Armstrong, things might have been different; as it was, Valverde got his day in the sun, Armstrong got the yellow jersey back, and all was right with the world.

There won’t be much chance for anybody to relax and enjoy it, though. Believe it or not, Stage 11 will be even harder than Stage 10, with two beyond-category climbs: the 1993-meter Col de le Madeleine and the 2645-meter Col du Galibier. Better start carbo-loading right now.

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July 11, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Rest Day 1

I should have my head examined for awarding these guys Best Uniform.

Since there’s no race today, I’d like to take a minute to award some prizes for the first 9 stages.

First, though, I must apologize to Alexandre Vinokourov, whom I described as “Russian.” Vinokourov is, of course, the national champion of Kazakhstan, a fact well attested to by his groovy, blue-green National Champion of Kazakhstan jersey.

And now, the awards:

Best Crash:

This is a tie between David Zabriskie’s mysterious fall in Stage 4 and Christophe Mengin’s slam into the barrier in Stage 6. Both riders are now out of the Tour, and while Zabriskie’s crash had a greater strategic impact, Mengin’s affected not only himself but also a bunch of the riders behind him. A moment of silence, though, for the Tour hopes of Berkeley Dave, who went from wearing the yellow jersey, to lagging more than an hour behind the leaders, to out of the race in just a few days. Hopefully he’ll be back on Grizzly Peak real soon.

Best Uniform:

This is a tough one, because all the uniforms pretty much stink on ice. The slick navy blue of the U.S. Postal team has been replaced by the nondescript light blue of Team Discovery, and no one has stepped up into the breach. I’m going to have to give the nod to the bright orange of the Basque team, Euskaltel-Euskadi, mainly for lack of a better option.

Worst Uniform:

Hands down, the painful pink of T-Mobile.

Best Name, Individual:

This is another tough one, but for the opposite reason: There are so many lyrical and fun-to-say names among the multinational cast of characters. I have a soft spot for the aforementioned Alexandre Vinokourov, whose name trips easily off the tongue and shortens nicely to “Vino.” Some of Euskaltel’s Basque names are nice, like Unai Extebarria and Inigo Landaluze (“My name is Inigo Landaluze, and you killed my father. Prepare to die.”). Possible contenders Alessandro Spezialetti, Jaan Kirsipuu, Igor Gonzalez-Galeano, and Leon Van Bon are disqualified for having dropped out of the Tour. You could make an argument for David Loosli, Karsten Kroon, Janeck Tombak, Santiago Botero, Joost Posthum, Fabian Cancellara, and of course Vladimir Karpets, who already knows what business he’s going to be in when his racing career is over. But I’m going to give the award to Angel Vicioso, whom I’ve never heard mentioned once during the race, but man, what a name.

Worst Name, Individual:

Well, let’s see. Wim Vansevenant has one of those names you get lost in after two syllables. Michael Boogerd…need I say more? Stage 8 winner Pieter Weening has two reasonable names that just don’t go well together. Alexandre Moos has a name that starts off well and ends up sounding like somebody’s fraternity roommate. Marcus Ljungqvist and Gorazd Stangelj suffer from major superfluous consonants. Wilfried Cretskens and Bram Tankink sound like the worst act the Borscht Belt ever produced. But I’m giving the prize to Rafael Nuritdinov, because I initially read his name as “Nurditinov” and didn’t stop laughing till just now.

Best Name, Team:

This one also goes to Euskaltel-Euskadi. I don’t know what it means, but it sounds great.

Worst Name, Team:

That would have to be Liquigas.

And, finally, the Leon Trotsky Invisible Man Award goes to Tyler Hamilton. An eight-time Tour veteran, Hamilton is out of the race this year after receiving a two-year suspension for blood doping. He has steadfastly maintained his innocence — which, of course, they all do — and the circumstances surrounding his suspension did seem a little fishy; but, jeez, who knows with these things. What I find curious is that Hamilton’s name has not been mentioned once in 800 hours of TV coverage, even to note his absence, even during an extensive discussion the other day of collarbone injuries. Hamilton, you may recall, was the guy who rode the entire 2003 Tour with a broken collarbone and came in 4th, making him everybody’s favorite feel-good story at the time. Now, I imagine, he’s watching the Tour alone in a dark room with a bottle of whiskey close at hand. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

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July 10, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 9

Mickael Rasmussen: Somebody buy that man a pizza.

Monday is a rest day for the Tour, which is a damn good thing. I think we all could use a rest; I am exhausted from just watching Stage 9, a painfest featuring four category-3 climbs, a category-2, and this year’s first category-1 climb, the Ballon d’Alsace.

I can only imagine how Mickael Rasmussen feels. In the most impressive individual performance of the 2005 Tour, the Dane who rides for Rabobank shot away from the peloton early and stayed away for the rest of the day, charging up the Ballon d’Alsace like a man possessed.

And “possessed” is the right word for it — in his post-race appearance Rasmussen had the haunted look of an undernourished marathoner. I hope that on the rest day he’ll sleep in and have an eight-course breakfast in bed served by a voluptuous, sex-starved farmgirl.

Meanwhile, Lance Armstrong ceded the yellow jersey after Stage 9 to Jens Voight, who finished three minutes and four seconds behind Rasmussen but far enough ahead of Armstrong and the peloton to take the overall lead. Apparently this was all according to Armstrong’s plan; and here we come to an aspect of Tour strategy that I’ve never entirely grasped.

The common wisdom is that the team with the yellow jersey has to work harder to keep their guy in the lead, and therefore that it’s to your advantage to give up the jersey for a while in the middle of the Tour. It’s never been quite clear to me why a strong team couldn’t dominate all the way through, but what do I know? I’m from Philadelphia.

I will be using the rest day to catch up on my email and play with the kittens. The riders will be using the rest day to…ride bikes, keeping themselves loose and ready. Tuesday the poor bastards will have the Alps to deal with. Stage 10 has two category-1 climbs, while Stage 11 features a category-1 and two HC (“hors categorie,” or as I prefer to call them, “holy crap”) climbs. What’s more, the long-promised rainstorm may finally materialize, adding that little extra bit of difficulty to the proceedings.

Enjoy your day off, guys…it’s still a long way to Paris.

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July 9, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 8

T-Mobile rode well in Stage 8; too bad about those uniforms.

“Ven ve have good legs, ve make ze attack.” -A. Klöden

Somehow in the last entry I got my stages mixed up. The stage with the Côte de Dobel, Côte de Bad-Herrenalb, Côte de Nachtigal, Côte de Zimmerplatz and Col de la Schlucht — that was Stage 8, not Stage 9. It’s probably my own fault, but I’m going to shift blame onto the official Tour de France Web site, which is the worst-organized, least-intuitive major site I’ve ever seen. It’s such a disaster that there’s not even a clear home page for you to bookmark. But I digress.

The big climb at the end of Stage 8 had the desired effect, splintering the peloton and creating a tense, wide-open situation. The stage was won by a Dutch rider named Pieter Weening — yes, that’s right, Pieter Weening — who took off from the pack at the foot of the Col de la Schlucht and held on to beat Andreas Klöden literally by millimeters. But the real story in the stage was the relative strength shown by Klöden and the rest of T-Mobile, and the relative weakness shown by Lance Armstrong’s Team Discovery.

Armstrong was unconcerned when Weening sprinted out. But when Klöden, who had been invisible in the first week of the Tour, took off like he had a rocket in his ass, that got Lance’s attention. The next to attack was Klöden’s teammate Alexandre Vinokourov, one of the guys Armstrong is most concerned about. When that happened, Armstrong looked around for help and found that he was alone. The rest of Team Discovery, usually the very model of efficiency and dependability, was nowhere to be seen.

Armstrong was forced to chase down Vinokourov on his own, which he did, but he wasn’t too happy about it. “We have some talking to do tonight,” he said drily in a post-race interview, rubbing his eyes and looking exhausted.

Does this mean that Armstrong is vulnerable? Hard to say. This stage may have just been a fluke; you have to think that Discovery will get its act together and return to form in Stage 9. But T-Mobile has three very strong riders in Vinokourov, Klöden, and Jan Ullrich. If they ever decide who their leader is and start working in a coordinated fashion, they’re going to make things interesting.

If only they could do something about those ridiculous pink uniforms. I honestly don’t see how you can ride in a getup like that. The only thing sillier than T-Mobile’s uniform is the polka-dot jersey awarded to the “King of the Mountains,” the rider who performs best in the mountain stages. If you can put that thing on, shave your legs, and still feel macho, well…you’ve got to love yourself for that.

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July 8, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 7

Coming soon: mountains.

The Tour entered Germany today, traveling 228 kilometers to finish in the city of Karlsruhe. Otherwise, Stage 7 was another ho-hum flat stage won by a sprinter with no shot at the overall title (Robbie McEwen, a little less demonstrative this time).

I have to admit to finding this kind of stage less than thrilling. The sprint finishes ought to be exciting, but since they don’t mean anything in the big picture, it’s hard to get very worked up about them. Fortunately, tomorrow the Tour hits the mountains.

Stage 8 won’t be a full-on mountain stage, but it will include this year’s first category 2 climb. In bike racing climbs are ranked according to difficulty, with category 4 being the easiest and 1 the hardest; there are also even harder “beyond category” climbs, which to me indicates a certain lack of imagination in the people who came up with this system.

As Han Solo might say, this is where the fun begins. The fun for us, the spectators, that is. For the riders, as Mr. T might say, the forecast is for pain. The mountains separate the men from the boys, the wheat from the chaff, the contenders from the pretenders, or whatever cliche you prefer. Not that riding 100+ miles every day for a week, as the Tour competitors have already done, is anything to sneeze at; but Saturday and Sunday’s stages will give us the first indication whether anyone is serious about challenging Lance Armstrong for the Tour victory.

I’m especially looking forward to Sunday’s Stage 9, when the forecast is for rain, as well as pain. The riders will climb the Côte de Dobel, Côte de Bad-Herrenalb, Côte de Nachtigal, and Côte de Zimmerplatz before arriving at Col de la Schlucht, a 16.8 km category 2 climb, right before the finish line. That ought to split the peloton into a hundred pieces, creating a line of wet, miserable cyclists straggling up the side of the Col as I recline in my living room, sipping chilled wine and nibbling on fine cheeses. And that, for me, is what the Tour is all about.

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July 7, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 6

Time is short, and so this entry will have to be as well.

For the first 190 kilometers or so, Stage 6 was the the first stage I would have officially characterized as “boring.” But it got pretty crazy at the end.

A five-man breakaway led the way almost all day, but it seemed a pretty safe bet that they would be caught as had the breakaways in Stages 2, 3, and 5. However, there was a fair-sized climb toward the end of the stage, and this created some chaos in the peloton, slowing down its pursuit of the leaders. Even so four of the five riders in the breakaway were caught, but at the 1 kilometer mark Christophe Mengin was clinging to a very slim lead with Alexandre Vinokourov in hot pursuit.

Then, on a hairpin right turn with 900m to go, Mengin skidded on the slick pavement and wiped out. Since the turn was so sharp that no one could see what was ahead, this started a chain reaction that ended with a huge pileup. Vinokourov managed to avoid crashing, but slowed up just enough to allow unknown Lorenzo Bernucci to pass him and win the stage.

The ultimate significance? Very little. The general standings remained mostly unchanged, although Vinokourov did pick up some time on Lance Armstrong. This ought to add some fuel to the split in the T-Mobile team between Vinokourov, currently 53 seconds behind Armstrong, and Jan Ullrich, who’s 31 seconds behind Vinokourov.

There was a mixed metaphor in that last sentence, I know, but time is tight. What do you want for nothing, a rubber biscuit?

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Tour de France 2005, Stage 5

Robbie McEwen points to his erect nipples after winning Stage 5.

Stage 5, 183 kilometers from Chambord to Montargis, was another flat stage that had no real impact on the overall scheme of things. Four riders broke away from the peloton early in the day but were easily caught. There were a few minor crashes that didn’t affect anyone’s finishing time. And the stage was won by sprinter Robbie McEwen, who pumped his fists and pointed to his chest in an almost NBA-like display of self-love. McEwen had a chip on his shoulder because he’d been penalized for head-butting Stuart O’Grady in Stage 3; he rather childishly insisted that O’Grady had started it. Maybe so, but McEwen was the one who was caught on video flagrantly interfering with O’Grady’s charge toward the finish.

So much for that. This was one of those stages where you can safely let your mind wander. I spent a lot of time digging the scenery, which was particularly lovely on this overcast day in central France. But I also kept thinking about Dave Zabriskie’s crash in Stage 4, which just keeps getting weirder. A closer study of the replays showed that he didn’t make contact with another rider or with the barrier; he just fell. His team manager speculated that his knee might have bumped into his elbow, which is an odd thing to suddenly have happen right at the end of a 42-mile bike race.

In fact, if you’re a fan of conspiracy theories, there’s plenty of space for one here. Consider:

• Right after the race, Zabriskie said he felt like he’d been elbowed. Later, coming out of the hospital, he looked dazed and said he really didn’t know what had happened.

• A mysterious figure leapt out of the crowd and over the barrier just after Zabriskie hit the ground.

• The crash occurred just over 1 kilometer from the finish. If it had been within 1 km, Zabriskie according to rule would have been awarded the same time as the rest of his team. Instead, he was stuck with his actual time, which cost him almost a minute and a half. That may not sound like much, but a minute and a half means a lot in the Tour.

• And, of course, the guy who crashed just happened to be the guy wearing the yellow jersey and clinging to a two-second lead over Lance Armstrong.

Am I suggesting there was some funny business here? No, I’m just saying that the picture as a whole is very suggestive. Make of it what you will; I am falling behing in my viewing and must be off.

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July 6, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Interlude

The cable box had a meltdown overnight and had to be reset, so I missed this morning’s broadcast of Stage 5. No need for panic, though; everything’s OK now and I’ll be able to catch the expanded coverage at 9 PM.

So I used my extra time today to go to the gym and to watch Breaking Away, which has been sitting in my Netflix pile for a couple weeks now.

The first thing I noticed about this movie is how much star Dennis Christopher looks like Beck:

I mean, it’s spooky, isn’t it?

So what happened to this guy? In the 70s he was in Fellini’s Roma, Robert Altman’s 3 Women, and this. He was named one of the “Promising New Actors of 1979.” In 1981 he was in Chariots of Fire, and then…well, his resume includes things like 1987’s Alien Predator (a.k.a. Cosmos Mortal, a.k.a. Mutant 2, a.k.a. Mutant II, a.k.a. The Falling); 1991’s Dead Women in Lingerie; 1992’s Willing to Kill: The Texas Cheerleader Story; 1994’s Plughead Rewired: Circuitry Man II; and 1995’s Deadly Invasion: The Killer Bee Nightmare. Apparently he continues to work, though — last year, he played Joshua “Carrots” Beale in the New Zealand film The Ballad of Lucy Whipple, a.k.a. California Gold.

The second thing I noticed about Breaking Away is that Jackie Earle Haley is in it. In 1976, Haley played Kelly Leak, the biggest, toughest Bad News Bear, the one who rides a motorcycle and can slam the shit out of a baseball. In Breaking Away, made three years later, he plays Moocher, whose defining characteristic is that he’s short.

I say again, what happened? Did all those cigarettes he smoked while playing Kelly in three Bad News Bears films stunt his growth? You have to think that Jackie Earle Haley could bring a fairly lucrative lawsuit against the tobacco industry for damage to his career, which after 1979 got pretty spotty. He was in the Breaking Away TV series (the only one of the four friends in the movie to take the gig; Christopher was replaced by Shaun Cassidy); made four more films in the 80s; then landed roles in Gravedale High (1990), Dollman (1991), Nemesis (1993), Prophet of Evil: The Ervil LeBaron Story, and Maniac Cop 3: Badge of Silence (1993). After that, he dropped out of sight completely, hopefully of his own volition; he seems to be mounting a comeback, though, because his IMDB page lists two movies currently in production. Just for kicks, here’s a picture of him bald:

The third thing I noticed about Breaking Away was a brief appearance by P.J. Soles, credited by her full name, Pamela Jayne Soles. Those of you saying to yourselves right now, “Who’s P.J. Soles?”, obviously were not 14-year-old boys when Stripes came out. Here she is with Bill Murray:

P.J. was one of Hollywood’s favorite babes for a while, with roles in Halloween, Carrie, and The Boy in the Plastic Bubble. Her career after Stripes in 1981 shows a similar arc to Christopher’s and Haley’s, with roles in things like Saigon Commandos, Alienator, B.O.R.N. (a.k.a. Merchants of Death), Mirror, Mirror IV: Reflection, and this year something called Pee Stains and Other Disasters. In her case I won’t say “What happened?”, because her shtick was always bubbly and cute (or in horror films, screaming and cute), and that’s not going to last you much past 30. She too continues to work, though, with roles in five movies in 2005.

Finally, the last thing I noticed about Breaking Away (Jesus, this thing has gotten long; I seem to have diarrhea of the blog today) was that it’s about a guy named Dave who recovers from a catastrophic wipeout to win the bike race of his life. Which brings us right back to the Tour de France. Is this a sign that Dave Zabriskie will recover from yesterday’s disaster and go on to unseat Lance Armstrong as Tour champion? I’m hesitant to go on record predicting such a thing, especially since, as I pointed out Monday, he’s not even the leader of his team. But if it happens, I fully intend to edit this entry to show that I did predict it.

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July 5, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 4

Lance finishes the race as Sheryl makes an ugly face.

I wanted some drama, and today’s stage was dramatic alright.

Stage 4 was the team time trial, in which each team rides seperately to see who can get five guys to the finish line in the shortest time. The leading time crept down throughout the day until Lance Armstrong’s Discovery team, the second-to-last team to finish, came in with a time of 1 hour, 10 minutes and 39 seconds. That left only Team CSC and current leader Dave Zabriskie with a chance to challenge.

CSC was pushing toward the finish line, looking like they had a good chance to beat Discovery, when suddenly Zabriskie hit the pavement, hard. It was hard to see in the replays exactly what happened to him — whether he touched the wheel of the rider ahead of him or made contact with the barrier — but in any case, this was yet another case of the dreadful bad luck that seems to befall anyone with the temerity to challenge Armstrong.

The other members of Team CSC, only momentarily distracted, went on to finish 2 seconds behind Discovery, while Zabriskie pedaled gingerly to the finish line looking like a broken man. It was painful to behold. I can’t really put it better than this dispatch from the official Tour de France Web site:

17:11 - Armstrong Wins Again

The yellow jersey will be worn by Lance Armstrong in the fifth stage. Dave Zabriskie is still limping to the finish line after crashing in the final 1,200m of the stage. His yellow jersey is torn and blood is dropping out of open wounds on his arms and legs.

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July 4, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 3

Dave Zabriskie has championship-quality hair.

This is how dumb I am — I only found out today that Dave Zabriskie, who won the first stage and continues to wear the yellow jersey, lives in Berkeley. This makes me want to root for him, which is pointless, because he has pretty much zero chance of winning. It’s not his job to try to win; his job is to provide support for his team leader, Ivan Basso.

The Tour is weird that way. Each team is organized around one guy who is thought to have the best chance of winning the race; the other eight team members are there to help him, mainly by riding in front of him and giving him someone to draft off. (My, that’s an awkward construction. “Off of whom to draft”? Well, never mind.)

It’s usually clear who that guy is on each team, although rivalries do develop within teams. Apparently one is going on right now on the T-Mobile team, where Jan Ullrich is the nominal leader but some of the riders think Russian Alexandre Vinokourov is the best bet.

So I suppose it’s possible that if Zabriskie holds on to the yellow jersey for a while longer, Team CSC will consider demoting Basso and making Zabriskie the guy. I have to say that in my limited experience, I’ve seen nothing from Basso to make me think he’s got what it takes to win the Tour. Mainly, whether it’s Zabriskie, Basso, Ullrich, Roberto Heras, Iban Mayo, or whomever, I’d like to see someone step up and make this thing interesting in the last few days. Last year was Lance Armstrong’s coronation as the first six-time winner, and that was fine; this year, it’d be nice to have some drama.

Oh, I almost forgot, Stage 3, like Stage 2, was won by Belgian Tom Boonen in a sprint to the finish. Again, this has no impact on the overall race, because Boonen has no intention of trying to win the Tour. His goal is to take home the green jersey, which goes to the best sprinter. Stage 4 ought to be a little more intense: It’s a 42-mile team time trial in which Armstrong’s Discovery team will have a chance to boost him into the race leadership. Last year this team, then called the U.S. Postal Service, put on an astounding display of power and discipline in the team time trial, more or less assuring Armstrong of the victory. This year, Discovery is missing two key cogs: Floyd Landis, who jumped to the Phonak team, and Viatcheslav Ekimov, who is injured. So we’ll see. In fact, I’m going to see right now, because I have Stage 4 waiting on the DVR already. More later.

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July 3, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 2

Sheryl Crow and some guy who is not Lance Armstrong.

Today was the first full stage of the Tour, 181.5 km (112.8 mi.) from Challans to Les Essarts, but unlike yesterday nothing of much significance happened. Every single rider finished with the exact same official time, except for three losers who finished 36, 39, and 47 seconds behind. Lance Armstrong and the other main contenders were safely nestled away inside the peloton and hardly seen all day.

I didn’t get a good look at Jan Ullrich to see how he was handling yesterday’s beatdown, but he kept pace, finishing 19th of the 186 cyclists who had a time of 3 hours, 51 minutes, and 31 seconds.

See, anybody who finishes in the peloton — which, in case ya didn’t know, is what they call the giant pack of cyclists that you see flying across France like a swarm of bees — gets the same time, regardless of when they actually cross the finish line. This greatly reduces the amount of jockeying for position that goes on near the end of the stage, and thus prevents a lot of accidents. Which is very prudent, but not exactly riveting TV — we, the viewers, might like to see a few more crashes.

In this situation the only riders going all-out are the sprinters, i.e. the guys who can ride the fastest for a short period of time. In the final kilometers they all make their way to the front of the peloton, and then in the last half-kilometer or so they all take off like crazy to see who can come away with the stage win. Today it was a Belgian named Tom Boonen who edged out Norwegian Thor Hushovd and Aussie Robbie McEwen to take the stage. Nobody cares too much except those guys, but still it must be nice to win a stage and stand on the podium, where you get to be on TV and be presented with a stuffed lion by the local hotties.

Speaking of hotties…er, lame transition, I’ll have to fix that later…but anyway, we actually saw much more of Sheryl Crow today than we did of Lance. The folks at the Outdoor Life Network seem to think that her status as rock-star girlfriend of the six-time champion makes her qualified to be an analyst, and she was interviewed for at least 10 minutes after the race. Not that I have anything against Sheryl — she’s smart, she handles herself well, and she looks like she spent the last couple months working out and tanning up to prepare for the Tour. I’m just not sure why she’s getting so much screen time.

Could be that the Tour is desperate for a female presence of some kind. The only other woman I’ve seen in two days of coverage was doing a really, really bad travelogue piece. Oh, and the girls on the podium, but you only see them very briefly. You know what would make the Tour more interesting to a mass audience? Each cyclist should have to carry a model from his home country on the back of his bike. Imagine Ullrich and Heidi Klum working their way up the side of a mountain as Kraftwerk plays in the background.

God, I’m a genius.

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July 2, 2005

Tour de France 2005, Stage 1

Stage 1 of the Tour is largely symbolic. Today, for instance, the competitors rode only about 19 kilometers (12 miles), spending only about 20 minutes on the road. But that doesn’t mean it’s insignificant.

What mattered today was not who won the stage — Dave Zabriskie, a young American in his first Tour — but that Lance Armstrong whupped the ass of the man considered to be his main rival, Jan Ullrich.

Armstrong, by virtue of being the reigning champ, was the last to start today’s individual time trial from Fromentine to Noirmoutier. Ullrich — the German who won the Tour in 1997, has come in second five times, and finished fourth last year — started second-to-last, a minute before Armstrong.

In a shocking display of competitive brutality, Armstrong actually caught Ullrich and passed him, taking a minute-six advantage. This was embarassing for Ullrich. You might even say humiliating. Sorry for all the italics — I am possessed today by the spirit of Dr. Thompson.

So in one swift blow Armstrong may have crushed the morale of the man with the best chance to beat him this year. I hate to kiss Armstrong’s ass — the constant hype surrounding him does get awfully tiresome — but Jesus. In the words of Rick James, “that’s cold-blooded.”

I have to admit I’m always tempted to look at Ullrich as a chump, even though in seven Tours he’s never finished lower than fourth — which most of us would consider a pretty bitchin’ track record. I didn’t see him win, and in the Tours I’ve watched he’s always seemed to come up small when it mattered. Plus he’s an easy guy to dislike: big, methodical, Teutonic, kind of a pretty boy. But you hate to see anybody treated the way Armstrong treated him today. It’s going to be interesting to see how he rebounds from this painful body blow in Stage 2.

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Tour de France 2005, Prologue

From the 2003 Tour: Lance Armstrong (in yellow) hits the deck; Jan Ullrich (top) worries about his hair.

Two summers ago I discovered something that really surprised me, something that nothing in my previous life had prepared me for, something that people who know me might find a bit strange: I love the Tour de France.

I first started getting into it two years ago, when I just happened to tune in on the day Lance Armstrong got his handlebars hooked on a spectator’s handbag. Or it might have been a shopping bag, I can’t quite remember…the point is, it was pretty damn dramatic watching Armstrong pick himself up and go on to win the stage. And pretty cool seeing the other riders follow Tour etiquette and slow up to let him back in it.

After that I started watching regularly and, at first, I mostly just got lost in the scenery. You can easily forget why you’re watching as the race rolls through the French countryside, all undulating hills, charming villages, and meadows dotted with cows and sheep.

But then they get to the mountains, and everything changes. In the mountain stages, the Tour is all about pain — who can endure the most and come out on top. In the long shots, as you watch the pitiful little humans struggle up the flank of some massive Alp or Pyrénée, many thoughts run through your head, but mostly this one: Better them than me.

And then you have the spectacle of the crowd. There is no crowd control to speak of at the Tour de France, and no practical way there could be with a field of play so long and narrow. There’s nothing at all to stop some yahoo from running out of the crowd and accosting one of the riders, and this has in fact happened.

In 1975 legendary cyclist Eddy Merckx was trying to win his sixth Tour when a French fan, upset that the Belgian Merckx might eclipse the record of 5-time winner Jacques Anquetil, leapt from the crowd and puched Merckx in the kidneys. Merckx finished the Tour, but the injury and the pain medication he took were enough to keep him from winning. This is why no one had ever won six tours until Armstrong did it last year.

On the mountain stages the riders are moving so slowly that the crowd swarms the course and only barely clears the way in time for the riders to come through. The racers have no choice but to have faith that the spectators will in fact get out of the way, and to endure whatever taunts, loogies, and foreign objects that fans choose to hurl their way.

That’s just the surface level; there’s also a whole universe of strategy that I don’t want to get into here. The Tour is a weird combination of individual and team sport that it’s hard for Americans to get our heads around, though it is worth the effort. We will get into all that later.

Anyway, I decided that this year I am going to cover the Tour from my living room. I’ve got the wireless Internet, the digital cable, the kittens, and a good supply of Peet’s coffee (which Lance Armstrong drinks every morning — word is he’s a fan of Major Dickason’s blend). Stage One is already starting, so I’m going to sign off for now.

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