For those of you who have already lost count, today is January 3, 2011. Every year at this time, I find myself doing three things....crossing out and rewriting the correct year on every flipping check I write for the next two months, making a resolution of just how much I'm going to ride the trainer that will last the next 72 hours, and earnestly commiting myself to using whatever gifts I was given for Christmas. The last item comes in direct response to what happened to me one Christmas many years ago. It was 1995, and that year, every male member of my family received from an old aunt in Baltimore, an autographed, commemorative Cal Ripken Jr. baseball issued for the game in which he broke Lou Gehrig's record of consecutive games played. That Christmas morning, I sat close to the Christmas tree, surrounded by packages and watched with eager anticipation as my father, cousin and brother-in-law all opened up identical square packages. In the year prior, we had all watched Ripken slowly approach the record and were on the phone with one another the night that he passed Gehrig's seemingly insurmountable display of athletic commitment which captivated the attention of baseball fans everwhere. Our aunt was quite aware of our collective fascination with Ripken's odyssey and clearly had decided to reward our fandom while simultaneously displaying pride for her own hometown of Baltimore. As the wrapping paper was ripped away from cardboard boxes, the interiors of those boxes revealed acrylic cases holding pristinely-stitched, MLB regulation baseballs with the number 2,131 printed over the Orioles logo signifying Ripken's record.
In my own lap rested an identically-sized box, still wrapped. I tore off the wrapping paper eagerly anticipating finding the same leather talisman of what I considered to be a true American athletic legend; the man that was nick-named "Iron Man," who played all 21 seasons of his career with the same team, a throwback to when athletes actually could be role models. The foil wrapping paper fell free from the cardboard box which I opened quickly. Inside, was not a baseball in a clear case, but rather a glass butter dish decorated with glued-on, purple-tinted glass grapes. Silence fell upon the room, and I could have sworn I heard someone abruptly drag the needle across the Burl Ives record playing "Have a Holly-Jolly Christmas!" A couple of weeks later, when I took my Christmas tree to the recycling center, I also visited the adjoining landfill. As I stood on a small dirt hill that rose above the expansive field of waste, I took from my coat pocket the butter dish. It felt heavy and awkwardly large in my hand, not at all conducive to the shape of something that can be thrown well or far. Nonetheless, I have to say that it demonstrated a suprising amount of lift as it carried over the discarded washing machines and radiators and made a genuinely satisfying sound as it connected with something large and metallic. Perhaps this is not how my aunt had intended I use the dish, but I never would have obtained such pleasure from it any other way.
All of that said, THIS year's haul was quite different, and I truly think I'm going to get some great use out of this little baby.
Anyway - onto more cycling related matters. Just a few things today. If you've not been keeping track, there is a growing concern over the altered evolution of professional cyclists according to Mario Cipollini. Yes, yes, I know it's old news by now - but a recent photograph released and published over at the Cycling Inquisition has shed some light onto why Cipollini might have made his recent comments....
It's called gynecomastia, Mario, and is nothing to be ashamed of.
And for what is certain to be a display of pure, unadulterated, non-emasculated cycling machismo, mark your calendars for January 16th which is the Cancer Council Classic warm-up criterium for this year's Tour Down Under. Of particular note is the number of sprinters that will be making the journey down under; the most spectacular showdown certainly to be between Mark Cavendish and ex-teammate, but persistent rival, Andre Greipel, now racing for Omega Pharma. Greipel better know what he is in for as Cavendouch has already been practicing some new finish line poses.....this one proves to be especially menacing....
"Do you see me thrusting my pelvis at you Andre? Are you ready for the Manx Missile?"
It's a tough week to be an Australian pro racer, I guess. And the worst possible thing you can do as an Aussie is apparently win at the Eneco tour. Robbie McEwen (Katousha) shows some late-season form in winning Stage 1...
and then Aussie track star and now road pro Jack Bobridge (Garmin) wins stage 5...
and both are snubbed from the Australian world's team for Mathew Hayman and Wesley Sulzberger? Who is doing the math on this one? I'm certainly not discounting the abilities of either Hayman or Sulzberger, but they haven't been truly competitive since the spring, while both McEwan and "Jacky Bobby" are racing well NOW. If performing well at the Eneco tour spells trouble for the selection to your respective country's world team, then Andre Greipel should be worried, as yesterday he took his second stage there. And consistent with nobody from HTC Columbia knowing how to execute an appropriate victory salute as they cross the line, Greipel busted this one out in Heers, Belgium as he won.
(This photo reminds me of how my grandmother used to try to pry her dog's ancient lips open to spray this stuff into her mouth called "happy breath" in an attempt to squelch the distinctive odor that can only come from a 15-year-old Miniature Schnauzer's mouth. There's just something impressive about the ability of those Germans to purse their lips: both Andre and Heidi....)
But for all this worrying, someone who is certainly not worried, according to cyclingnews, is Bjarne Riis.
Despite losing the Shlecks, his directeur sportif Kim Andersen, Jakob Fuglsang, and likely both Stuart O'Grady and Jens Voigt to the new Shleck-tastic Luxembourgian team as well as watching Matti Breschel leave for Rabobank, Riis is content with the three Spanish amigos of Ben, Dan and Jesus (Noval, Navarro and Hernandez.) And the article published by cyclingnews regarding Riis' lack of concern is accompanied by three photos of Bjarne looking definitely NOT worried:
While Bjarne is busy not worrying in Denmark, the country of Luxembourg is also not worried, and in fact rejoicing in celebration, and not just because Frankie got married on Saturday...
but because Andy has become a national hero and is beloved by all Luxembourgian children....take this photo he posted on Twitter of himself with some kids who painted a mural for him:
"Message: Nice welcome gift! Big Hugs to the kids in my street for this!!!"
If you are having difficulties making out what is on the front of Andy's t-shirt as he sits amidst the gaggle of children, you can see it better here....because it's the exact same shirt that teammate Jakob Fuglsang is wearing at the post-Tour gala......I'm sure the boys especially liked to hug him while he was wearing this...to get a better view....
There's nothing that weird about two friends sharing a shirt, is there? I mean, Contador and Shleck are also friends....so maybe Bert will share his Maillot Jaune with Andy for a bit. I think Andy must feel virtually naked without it....as was depicted in another gift Andy received from "his biggest fan, Sigrid (8 years old), also posted on Twitter.
"Message: Just got a painting from my biggest Fan 8 year old Thanks Sigrid :)"
I'm guessing that's Contador on the right, pantsless, but in the Maillot Jaune with the big smile, and Andy on the left with the Luxembourgian flag over his head, frown on his face and wearing nothing but a black hole in his chest where his heart should be? All that's missing is the dropped chain...
Ok - so maybe somebody is a little worried in Luxembourg....
Anatomic form, fit and comfort on a bicycle is always a pressing concern, no matter what kind of a cyclist you are. As a much more experienced rider once told me when I had just started cycling, "I don't care who you are, after about 65 miles in the saddle, shit starts to hurt." Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong - it likely depends on the individual cyclists' Taintal Sensitivity Index (or TSI).
But a huge part of cycling marketing is geared toward optimizing taintal happiness. Which is exactly why Dave Zabriskie is apparently "halfway to your anus."
Dave is no stranger to exploring the boundaries of taintal bliss as he is the well known creator, owner and chief spokesman for his chamois cream, DZNuts. But now in partnership with Pearl Izumi's recently enhanced 4d chamois, Zabriski is taking his product straight to "Ur-anus."
I think at this point, some anatomical clarifications are in order. The complete disregard for appropriate anatomical references that this new marketing ploy demonstrates comes as some concern to me since "ur-taint" is really quite different than "ur-anus". Although they are close in physical distance, they are light years away in function. Aside from burning after many miles on a bike saddle, "ur-taint" really has no modern-day uses and is simply the vestigial remnant of that part of the groinal region that our Homo erectus ancestors used to sit on their eggs, keeping them warm until they hatched (if you believe in evolution that is).
But "ur-anus" has an altogether different purpose and is still used today, by some, for purposes of passing solid wastes out of the body. No one knows this better than Mark Cavendish who was just today quoted regarding the act of defectation.
Cavendish was speaking in response to his teammate, Andre Greipel's, criticism of his recent non-winning performance in Milan-San Remo. But shitting is not the only function "ur-anus" is good for. Some also use it for picking (especially when they are just standing around doing nothing). However, Cavendish swears that all of his picking has been relegated to a different part of his body.
What Cavs should remember, however, is that although one may pick their nose, and also their butt, they cannot pick their teammates....and he and Greipel are stuck with one another......or maybe not?
The two will at least be separated in May as Cavs is slated to race at the Tour of California while Andre will be competing in the Giro d'Italia. That is to say, they will be as separate as "ur-taint" and "ur-anus" are....one causes pain, the other a lot of noise and stench - both pretty undesirable.
