Cycling God Totem: De Vlaeminck Drops

In a previous post, Fabian Cancellara was moved down the The Best Bike Blog EVER's Cycling God Totem for post Flanders and Paris-Roubaix douchyness.  He is still not forgiven.  Like I said before, "...I don't care if my cycling gods win.  I prefer them to be heroic with a hint of humility."  Like Kramer said on Seinfeld once, "Poise Counts!"  Today, Roger De Vlaeminck moved a couple notches down the Cycling God Totem for comments he made about the rest of the peloton after Boonen's win at Paris Roubaix.  With that win, Boonen moved up.

Sure, Boonen was the man on Holy Sunday, deserving of the spot between Cancellera and Lance.  But to have De Vlaeminck label Boonen's competition at Paris-Roubaix as 3rd rate riders drips with douchyness.  Let's take note of the so called "3rd Rate" riders finishing behind Boonen: Thor Hushovd, George Hincapie, Flecha, Stuart O'Grady....while not competition for the win, even the 3rd rate Andre Greipel managed to get the bell on the velodrome with a group only 13 minutes down.  Of the 86 finishers, there's a lot of hard men on the list.

While Boonen has had his own personal problems (sniff) and as of yet has not posted wins at San Remo and the Giro Di Lombardia (which apparently is a measuring stick for De Vlaeminck,) we disagree with Roger and move Boonen ahead of De Vlaeminck on the Cycling God Totem.  Keep it up De Vlaeminck, the next totem notch is underground.  


Totem order: Eddy, Marco, Hinault, Lance, Boonen, Cancellara, De Vlaeminck.

Douchyness Drops Cancellara On Cycling God Totem

Pre-2011 Roubaix Cycling God Totem

After holding the 3rd spot on the podium of my Cycling God Totem Pole for years behind Marco and Top-God Eddy, Fabian Cancellera fell to 5^th position.  He’s now behind Hinault and Lance, not because of his self proclaimed losses at Paris Roubaix and Flanders but, because he grew a dick nose after Flanders and it got bigger after Roubaix. 

Douchexhibit 1: The post Flanders doucheness I read in Cycling News: “Congratulations to Nuyens, but for me [winning] like that has no value.”

Wha-huh?  Did my cycling god just kick me in the nuts?  It certainly feels that way.  Winning like that has no value?  Did Nuyens cut the course, use a motor or grab onto the team car a little too long while getting a can of Coke?

I prefer my cycling gods to look inward in the face of defeat and not spoil someone else's moment with a tirade of excuses like an amateur.  If only I wore sunscreen.  I was boxed in.  They all raced against me.  I expect that from a newbie, but Cancellara stealing the steam out of Nuyens win was as out-of-line as Kanye West taking the microphone from Taylor Swift.  I personally know hundreds of cyclists that would love to win like the way Nuyens won Flanders.  Most of them would love to win a pair of Ace of Spade socks in a Cat 5 race in Nowheresburg, OH like that.  I’ll never forget the day I finished 18^th in a UCI Cyclocross race, 8 long minutes behind Jeremy Powers.  Despite the thumping, I felt honored to even compete on that level, to even be on the same starting grid.  That comment shows no respect for the sport, the competitors and the millions of fat Cat 3 guys like me who’d have to go to the hospital for the loss in blood pressure caused by the giant wood they’d be sporting just to roll one wheel over a meter of Belgian cobblestone. 

Pre-douchness 2010 Tour of Cali

Douchexhibit 2: Yesterday after Roubaix: Everybody raced against me. The victory was not possible. This second place is like the victory to me. Today, I lost, but the others lost a bit more than me.

Douche say what?  "I" lost?  Victory not possible?  Others lost a bit more than me?  Seems to me that Garmin won and Thor didn’t lose.  They're probably still on the bus shouting “woo hoo” in 8 different languages including Norwegian.  Last time I checked 6^th, 8^th, 9^th and being only: 47 back at Roubaix is a pretty great accomplishment.  Just ask Hincapie.  Here’s the list of the top 10 from Velonews.  Tell me, who lost Roubaix?

·      

  1   1. Johan Van Summeren (B), Garmin-Cervélo, 6:0:7:28

·         2. Fabian Cancellara (Swi), Leopard-Trek, at 0:19

·         3. Maarten Tjallingii (Nl), Rabobank Cycling Team, at 0:19

·         4. Grégory Rast (Swi), Team Radioshack, at 0:19

·         5. Lars Ytting Bak (Den), HTC-Highroad, at 0:21

·         6. Alessandro Ballan (I), BMC Racing Team, at 0:36

·         7. Bernhard Eisel (A), HTC-Highroad, at 0:47

·         8. Thor Hushovd (Nor), Garmin-Cervélo, at 0:47

·         9. Juan Antonio Flecha Giannoni (Sp), Team Sky, at 0:47

·         10. Mathew Hayman (Aus), Team Sky, at 0:47

Cancellara Demoted to 5th on God Totem

Leopard didn’t have a man in the break and failed to reel in a giant well represented breakaway that had 2+ minutes on the peloton going into the Arenberg.  Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty certain there were some Leopard teammates in the race.  Come to think of it, I didn’t see any.  Did you?  After looking at the results, it appears eight Leopard-Trek riders started the race.  Fabian finished 2^nd.  The next best placed teammate Martin Mortensen finished 13:53 back in 94^th.  The six others, including semi-favorites O’Grady and Weylandt are listed as DNF.  Maybe that’s why victory for Douchelara wasn’t possible and he felt as if everybody was racing against him.  They were.  He was the only Leopard-Trek guy left. 

Personally I loved watching both Flanders and Roubaix.  I dug my nails into the couch.  I covered my eyes.  I shouted “get on his wheel and go-go-go!”  Even though I had to revise my totem, it’s nice to be reminded that cycling is still a team sport and there are no favorites at Roubaix.  Lastly I don't care if my cycling gods win.  I prefer them to be heroic with a hint of humility.

Lighting My Sven Nys Prayer Candle

Dear Sven Nys,

I'm kneeling in my cycling man-cave in the back of my garage.  I'm about to light the wick.  I’m not crazy.  That’s what we cyclocrossers do when times get tough.  I believe in you.  I’m certain there are cycling Gods.  Right?  Otherwise a Google search of the phrase wouldn’t turn up hundreds of blogs and websites addressing general cycling deities.  Of course, you, Sven Nys, top the list when the term “Cyclocross Gods” is searched.  So, Dear Sven Nys, with seven OVCX races left on the docket, enough for a virtual redo to the start of the season and to qualify for an overall series placing, pretty please with Dugast on top, God of Cyclocross, tell me a heavenly chorus of cowbells will ring for me through November and December. 

Pozzato’s tattoo reads: “Only God Can Judge You.”  Obviously someone’s looking after him.  Of course with all things cyclocross concerning me, I turn to you.  I know you’ve been watching me from your team RV in the sky.  You saw it happen.  At the first race of the season I rolled a tubie on an off camber hillside.  Immediately, I heard your deep accent thunder across the sky of the Kings CX venue, “You Mahst Use Fresh Gloo Avery Season.”  Lesson learned.  Saving a buck doesn’t play in cross.  I get it.  While registering for Fisherman’s Park in Louisville I sausage fingered the sign-up and clicked on the wrong race which cascaded into a whole mess of issues.  As of today I am still not scored in the race.  I know it was your way of saying, “Faht Feengers Mean You Mahst Loose A Few Kilos.”  Done.  At USGP, my seat post broke on the first lap.  It was my fault again.  I don’t blame the EC70 carbon.  The post got stuck in the seat tube over last winter and heroic measures had to be taken to remove it obviously resulting in stressing the carbon weave.  Understood, I should’ve learned the same lesson from my tubie rolling that saving a buck doesn’t cut it. 

Well, that’s three things.  I’m done.  That’s how it works right? 

From now till I hang up the bike in the garage, I thought I’d be blessed with laser quick clip-ins at the start line, the Nys heavenly light would illuminate the best lines on the course, guys who normally smoke me would have mechanicals, bonk, wreck and leave me to snag a piece of that tasty Elite Masters top-ten payout pie.  But no.

Getting ready for cross practice last night, I noticed my Challenge Fango tubie has a tear in the sidewall.  Really?  C’mon Sven.  I’ve paid my dues in tears, sweat, snot, bruises and good old cash money.  For the love of Jean Robic don’t make me light this ridiculous Sven Nys prayer candle.

Hup Hup,

Joe Biker

Chicken Soup For The Cyclist's Soul

Even If there’s a bike race, she attends Sunday mass or at least the Saturday matinee.  God before bikes.  Not preachy, fun, and always good humored, the only thing that might tip you off that she’s somewhat religious is when she blurts out “Jesus help me,” on a particularly tough climb.  She’s not using the Lord’s name in vain, but sincerely asking Jesus for help. 

While I haven’t been to a church since a 5k festival run last year or been to service since I spent a Christmas at my mother’s house, I grew up in a Catholic family.  I believe in God, just maybe not how my mother wished.  Regardless, between kneeling, sitting and standing, I can imagine the sermon she heard on Saturday about how God can help one overcome life’s difficulties.  

Priest: And, now a reading from the book of Peter.  "So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and at the right time he will lift you up in honor. Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you."  Amen.

“You just have to ask God for help,” he preached.  “Too many times, people get themselves into a difficult situation and they don’t ask for help.  All you have to do is ask,” he added.  She had communion, gave thanks and made a beeline for her car to meet the caravan to the bike race.

Not a day for the deep dish wheels, the wind forced riders to lean into the crosswind.  In the headwind the mph’s dropped into the lower teens.  With the temperature hovering at 85 degrees, on the third lap the salty crust formed on her upper lip and helmet  straps.  She struggled to suck wheel, doing her best to hang on to the pace of the lead breakaway group of five.   The next attack went, and she popped off.  She tried to regain contact, but the lead group of four were gone.  She reached for her bottle, half empty.  “Jesus help me,” she muttered in her head.

Trying to salvage a 5^th place finish, she hunkered down flat backed hoping to stick out a no-womans-land finish between the breakaway and the chasing peloton.  However, behind her, the pack had splintered in the crosswind.  She powered on for an entire lap solo, but fading.   As she crossed through the start/finish she looked back and could see another girl within 100 meters of her wheel. 

It was her teammate.  On the next climb the two made contact.  “Let’s work together to stay away,” her teammate said.  “I don’t know if I can make it,” she sputtered between breaths.  “Get on my wheel,” her teammate replied.  Through the headwind section on the wheel of her teammate she gained her composure.  When it was time for her to pull-through, she pulled even with her teammate and jokingly said, “You know.  I was asking Jesus for help about a lap ago and now you’re here.  You’re my Jesus!”   

They laughed.  She pulled to the front and got back to the business of keeping the gap to the women chasing behind.  When they hit the 200 meter mark she said, “you can take the sprint.”  “No let’s cross together,” her teammate said with a smile.  At the line, the two locked hands and took 5^th together.