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.

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