Texas chainring massacre

Well, okay. He's still the daddy. Stunning.
Separation day in the Tour de France, with a mountaintop finish on Courchevel. It's not the steepest mountain in the Alps, but it's such a long climb that its slope seems to rise up every kilometer you ride. It's also long enough that, placed at a finish, such a mountain causes a decisive split between the pretenders and the contenders. Climbs like this put a magnifying glass to any disparities in power to weight ratio among the riders.
Who would have thought the list of contenders would contain names like Michael Rasmussen and Alejandro Valverde while the list of pretenders might just contain everyone else? Rasmussen is tall and lanky, and he looks like a white praying mantis with chicken pox in his king of the mountains jersey and bug-eyed sunglasses. The Tour checks riders for blood doping, but they might need to check Rasmussen for lack of blood he's so pale. How a guy can ride four to five hours in the blazing sun each day and still look like an albino is a mystery to me. Maybe Rasmussen is a descendant of Dracula. Whatever he is, he's a damn good climber.
It's occurred so many times in his six Tour wins, but the sight of Armstrong riding away from his opponents on the first mountain stage of the Tour is still an awesome spectacle. Team Discovery does resemble Apollo 13 on these monstrous climbs, each domestique exerting maximum effort before flaming out and falling away, ultimately leaving Lance to rocket ahead towards the finish line. The obscene pace of the race the first week manifested itself today in all the early explosions among the peloton.
I struggled up Courchevel once, a few years back, like a man crawling uphill on his stomach. Seeing Jens Voight riding up Courchevel as if pedaling in a vat of olive oil brought back those painful memories. Tomorrow is even tougher, with three mountains I remember with a wince: Madeleine and the linked pair of Telegraphe and Galibier. Madeleine is like Courchevel, moderate in slope but extremely long. The Telegraphe-Galibier combination is worse: longer and steeper. The day I rode the two, I felt strong, yet it still felt like the climb would never end. You have to be able to sit in the saddle and just pedal for an hour, not ideal for someone like Vino, not a pure climber. It's difficult to attack Armstrong on such a climb when Discovery Channel rides so hard you're gasping for air like an asthmatic smoker.
If Lance and his rivals feel the same tomorrow as they did today, the time gaps Lance could open up could effectively put the Tour out of reach to all but Valverde (I don't think Rasmussen's time trialing will allow him to threaten the yellow jersey). Chris Carmichael said he thought Lance would win the Tour by his largest margin ever this year, and that's starting to look prophetic. Lance has to be licking his chops at a chance to punish his opponents on the slopes of Telegraphe and Galibier, while his rivals have to be glad it's not another mountaintop finish.

We got ourselves a bike race


Thrilling stage in the Tour de France today. The finishing climb was a category 2, but only because it was near the finish of the stage. It wasn't that steep, maybe 4% or 5%, but it was long, and finishing climbs like that, especially early in the Tour de France, can make for exciting finishes because more riders can hang around than on the Alpine or Pyrenean climbs that can kick up into the 10-12% slope range (that's not to say I'm not amazed that professionals can turn a big chainring and crank up a mountain like the Col de la Schlucht at around 25 mph; that's just sick).


Everyone knew Vino would attack, but few expected the following:


  • Team Discovery Channel didn't have anyone strong enough to hang with the late attacks, leaving Armstrong isolated with his chief rivals on the final climb. Lance was clearly disappointed in his team after the stage, though he tried to be respectful, saying perhaps his team had been worked too hard. But Brunyeel and Armstrong aren't going to sleep as easy tonight, and no one will feel worse than Lance's teammates about not being there for him at the end. I don't think Brunyeel or Armstrong will chew the team out tonight. Everyone saw what happened and knows what they have to do. Still, all the confidence and psychological advantage Team Discovery earned in the prologue and team trial evaporated on the Col de la Schlucht today.

  • Andreas Kloden, who'd had a very disappointing early race season, looked super strong in finishing second, and that was a finish that even a photo couldn't clarify.

  • Pieter Weening wins the stage with after attacking on the last third of the stage. His winning attack was particularly impressive given how high the pace has been and how many A-listers were attacking on that final climb. Great day for Rabobank, with Rasmussen donning the polkadot jersey. Somewhere, the Dutch crazies were partying on some mountaintop. They may not have been seeing their self-composed can-can tune "Boogerd is the Best," but Weening has two syllables and fits in nicely. "Weening iiiiiiiiiis, the best-he-is-the-best. Weening iiiiiiiiis the best-he-is-the-best. Wee ning is the best-he-is-the-best. Wee-ning is the best-he-is-the-best." I'm not kidding, those are the lyrics. It's much more exciting when you're dancing in your bike cleats and singing it with several hundred Dutch youths dressed in cow suits on the side of the road on Alpe D'Huez.


I can only imagine what Brunyeel was shouting into the team 2-way radio on the final climb when Salvodelli became the last team member to drop off, leaving Lance alone.


"C'mon boys, we can't leave Lance ah-lone. Dis ees vuh-ry baaad. C'mon Paolo! C'mon Popo! Venga venga venga! C'mon guys! We can't leave Lance like this. Get up to the front, boys!"


If Kloden really is regaining his from from last year, then they can launch him, Vino, and Ullrich against Armstrong in alternating waves, as they did today. As soon as Lance covered Vino's second attack, he didn't have a chance to catch his breath before Kloden launched off the front. If Armstrong gets isolated again, things could get ugly. Toss in Landis, Leipheimer, and Basso, and Armstrong may not have one restful day in the mountains. Also, we have yet to hear from Heras and Mayo, and I'm anticipating some attacks from them in the Alps and Pyrenees. If Lance has any chinks in his form, he's unlikely to be able to hide them on a stage. Brunyeel will have to be in the team car doing lots of calculations to decide which attacks Lance should cover; depending on who has opened up which gaps, and depending on how much time he and Lance think he'll take from them on the final individual time trial, Lance can decide when to accelerate and when to sit tight. Ooh it's going to be a doozy of a Tour.


Armstrong's face looks particularly gaunt this year. Today he wasn't particularly strong, but at the end of the day he lost no time to any serious GC contenders, and that's with T-Mobile burning their three top guys pretty hard on a stage that wasn't decisive. Lance wasn't as explosive relative to the other riders as he usually is, in part because the slope was so gentle, but he still covered all the key attacks and finished with the same time as every rider that mattered.


Team Discovery Channel is more suited for staying around Lance on steeper climbs, and I suspect they'll bounce back when the roads rise up more quickly. It's been an interesting Tour thus far, with fortunes changing dramatically from one day to the next. One day Zabriskie is in yellow jersey, then a few days later he's almost dead last. One day Team Discovery Channel looks like they'll dominate, then the next day they seem to be the most vulnerable of the major teams. Early in the Tour, Boonen seemed like the next Petacchi, then a crash and a few more stages later, Robbie McEwen seems like the sprinter to beat.


A riders fortunes can change in one day on the mountains. Eddy Mercx, the greatest cyclist ever, seemed destined to win his sixth Tour. Then, on the ride up to the mountaintop finish at Pra-Loup, he cracked, and just like that it was over for him. The pace has been unbelievably high in the Tour this year. It's the fastest Tour in history thus far, and so I expect some riders to crack suddenly over the next two weeks. It's always difficult to predict who those will be, but it will happen.


Can't wait for tomorrow's stage, and in about half an hour, correction, in about half a minute, I guess it will be on television. Might as well stay up at this point and catch the first half, though I'll be on a bus headed to DC during the stage conclusion. I'll have to catch the replay in the evening.


Tidbits


Cory Doctorow to virtually sign a virtual edition of his latest novel in Second Life


Download some live tracks by The Flaming Lips for free


***


In the Tour de France, you often hear how the Discovery Channel Team and Lance don't mind if another team takes the yellow jersey because then that other team will have to defend the jersey. What that means is that the team which has the yellow jersey rider will drive the peloton to chase down breakaways in order to keep their man in the yellow jersey for as many days as possible, even if that man has no chance of winning the Tour. This is one of the odd things about the Tour, where just being a leader for part of the race is worth fighting for. Each stage of the Tour is a mini race in itself. I don't believe you make any money for winning a stage, but the economic incentive often cited as the reason for contending for these intermediate goals is to garner more exposure for your sponsor, whether on the podium accepting the yellow jersey or in newspaper articles or on television in a breakaway. I'm skeptical that the math works out--team sponsors seem to go bankrupt every few years in cycling, but it does create dozens of stories within the overall drama that is race to win the Tour.


***


Speaking of cycling, Vinokourov went high risk-high reward today and attacked late on rain-slicked roads to take second place and make up 19 seconds on Armstrong with a 7 second gap and the 12 second time bonus. Vino has to be seen as Armstrong's chief competitor, chiefly because he's not intimidated by anyone and he's always attacking, something that can't be said of Ullrich or Beloki in years past. Vino will likely lose at least a minute to Armstrong in the last individual time trial so you know he'll be attacking in the mountains. Two alpha dogs butting heads will make for some exciting stages, especially if Ullrich becomes Vino's sidekick. Some have faulted Vino for taking too great a risk for such a short time gain, but I believe Vino recognizes he has to take risks to even have a chance to topple Armstrong. You can't sit back and wait for Armstrong to crack; the odds of that are as slim as the new Lindsay Lohan.


***


Say what you will about Tom Cruise, and many people have called him crazy, but he is acting with the passion of a true believer. That is, if he really does believe that Brooke Shields is hurting herself with whatever drugs she's taking, and if he really does believe that Scientology offers a better way out for her and others sharing her condition, then his behavior is consistent with those beliefs. Few are the people who tout their beliefs and act on them with equal ardor. That's not to say he's necessarily right, and I'm no expert on the topic, but he's at least consistent. And his interview with Matt Lauer was a refreshing change from the usual ass-kissing puff pieces that are celebrity interviews.


***


I was reading Chuck Klosterman's new novel Killing Yourself to Live : 85% of a True Story yesterday, and in it he opines that Radiohead's Kid A feels as if it predicted 9/11 in a way. He goes on to describe what he thinks each track signifies. Curious, I popped the CD in. Exhausted, I dozed in and out for most of the album. The next morning, my clock alarm radio woke me not with music but with the absence of music. Two serious voices gave updates on a developing situation in London, and the variance from the usual music caught the attention of my subconscious. It was that same divergence from my clock radio's usual morning music alarm that woke me the morning of 9/11.


I had a class in SoHo this aftenoon and took the subway. I wasn't sure if it was the London attack that had scared people off, but only one other person was in my subway car on the ride down.


***


The kickball team I'm on won its sixth game yesterday when the other team failed to show on a rainy day while the bare minimum eight of us trekked all the way up to Riverside Park in the storm. It's the second or third game we've won via forfeit. Our chief skill is attendance.


***


Boxing fans who missed it the first time around will want to set their TiVo for Showtime on Aug. 6 when they televise a replay of the epic Diego Corrales-Jose Castillo slugfest before the Jeff Lacy Robin Reid fight. They put their heads together from the opening bell and just pounded on each other from close quarters for 10 rounds. Nothing seemed to slow either of them down. By the eighth round, Corrales' left eye was a slit and Castillo's left eye was streaming blood. Each fighter was so possessed that even several low blows seemed to have no effect. In the eighth round, Castillo hit Corrales so hard that Corrales's mouthpiece flew out, but he kept fighting and landed a left that wobbled Castillo. Both fighters seemed indefatigable, throwing punches as if they were attached to button-mashing videogame players.


Then, in round 10, Castillo knocked out Corrales with a massive left hook to the chin. Corrales got back up but looked dazed, and Castillo proceeded to knock him down again with another left hook. Corrales stood up just on the ten count and said he was okay, but the ref fined him a point for excessive spitting out of his mouthpiece (a delaying tactic). He looked done, but then he proceeded to rise from the dead in one of the most amazing comebacks I've ever seen, pinning Castillo against the ropes and pounding his head like a pinata. Only the ropes seemed to be holding Castillo upright and the ref stepped in and stopped the fight.


Just a magnificent, brutal fight, as close to a modern day gladiator battle as I've ever seen. I may need to subscribe to Showtime again; all the best fights this year were on Showtime, not HBO, and a rematch is tentatively scheduled for Oct. 8 though nothing's been signed yet.


Team Time Trial, and my breakaway attempt


A highly competitive team time trial today, the closest ever, marred by David Zabriskie's crash near the finish. It's one of my favorite events, as I love the feeling of riding a blazing pace line with other riders. One of the things I most look forward to about going to France each year is flying through the French countryside with a couple of other riders, each taking a short turn up front. A group of riders like that can go faster than any one of the riders can alone, so a paceline like that allows you to sustain higher average speeds for longer periods of time. The feeling is exhilarating, and the formations of the professional teams resemble flocks of birds in their precision, a beautiful color-coordinated backlash of man and machine.




Photo ©: Roberto Bettini www.bettiniphoto.net


It's still not clear what happened to Zabriskie. The commentators theorized that he crossed wheels with the rider in front of him, but I haven't read any definitive account of the crash. A rider usually knows when he crosses tires with someone in front (UPDATE: Zabriskie has blamed a skipped chain). CSC is very fortunate in one sense in that they'd just come out of a corner, slowing them down just before the crash. Otherwise, I'm fairly certain that Roberts and more importantly Basso would have gone head over heels over Zabriskie. That would have lost Basso another minute or two on Armstrong (the crash was outside the 1km red flag, so Basso would not have received the protection of sharing his team's time).


Cyclists everywhere had to be wincing in empathy watching Zabriskie roll slowly to the finish line, the left side of his cycling shorts ripped open, revealing a massive patch of bloody, gravel-scored skin. As any rider knows, Zabriskie is in store for some hellaciously painful showers and several days of riding with a mixture of throbbing soreness, joint and muscle stiffness, and a sharp stinging pain. On a positive note, he's a bit lighter now, having lost some blood and skin to the road.


Team Discovery Channel set a team time trial record, averaging 54.93 kph or 34.13 mph. To sustain that for over an hour and ten minutes is absurd. Just silly fast. I'd need a long stretch of downhill to get myself up to that type of speed, and if I was lucky enough to sustain it for several minutes my heart would explode. That's assuming I could even turn over a 55-11 gearing. With a flat course and a tailwind, the conditions did not seem to favor huge time gaps, and the negligible time difference between CSC and Discovery Channel showed that to be true.


The next few days will be somewhat uneventful, as Lance and Team Discovery would prefer. They spoke of perhaps sending George up in some breaks to see if they could transfer the yellow jersey from Lance to George, but I'm skeptical. It would tire George out needlessly before the mountains. I'd love to see it happen, though. These are the least interesting stages of the Tour de France, everyone riding together to the finish, perhaps chasing down a break or two, before the sprinters amass for the insanity of the bunch sprint. The first several stages, with the team time trial and a longer than usual prologue, has probably left many riders exhausted, so riders will be more reluctant to break away the next day or two.


Tom Boonen has just been a beast this season (he won the Tour of Flanders and the fabled Paris-Roubaix), and it's just a shame Alessandro Petacchi isn't at the Tour so the two leading sprinters in the world could duel it out. That would make this first week more compelling.


***


I went for a bike ride yesterday, trying to find my away to the George Washington Bridge and across into New Jersey. I printed out a cue sheet and stowed it in a sandwich bag in my rear jersey pocket. The first time I reached for it, up in Harlem, it was gone. I may have lost it within a block or two of leaving my apartment. Finding my away across the GWB wasn't difficult, but once over to the other side, I had no idea where to go.


Though most cyclists seemed to have stayed home to avoid the auto traffic for the 4th, I managed to run across a local who talked me through a moderately hilly loop just on the other side of the bridge. He was a scrawny, stick-armed, middle-aged man with a big white beard and a deep tan, riding an old, beat-up road bike. I imagined him to be the town crazy, spotted everywhere but rarely spoken to, the kind that turns out to be a former Nobel Prize winner in the movies. He had a voice like Will Ferrell's Old Prospector from SNL.


Harlem streets are rough (literally). My rear tire flatted on the return trip. It wasn't a blowout, so I managed to drag myself home by stopping every two or three miles to put a few pumps of air in. I'll have to change that tube and find some tires more suited to shattered-glass-and-pothole complexion of New York city streets.


I didn't realize so many New Yorkers abandon the city on summer weekends, especially holiday weekends. I should have stolen away, somewhere, anywhere. I think I need a time out from the city. Riding around the city by myself and past so many families out at parks with picnic coolers and BBQs, I felt a vague sort of longing that the warm summer air always seems to stir up. A yearning for something, but I wasn't sure what.


Well, that's not exactly true. I am yearning to be in France, where my life would be as different as possible from life in Manhattan. My daily concerns on Tour de France bike vacations has always been so wonderfully circumscribed. Wake up, prep my bike clothes and equipment, eat a good breakfast, study the route map, check the bike and pump up the tires, and set off. Then you eat, stroll through quaint little French towns, watch the race finish, and choose a restaurant in which to eat a two to three hour dinner. Then it's back to bed or on to the next town.


Everything moves slower except the cyclists. People walk more slowly, meals are eaten at leisure, and one senses that everyone around them has the same, simple outlook and daily concerns. Even when I'm out for a leisurely stroll around NYC, I can't help but be swept up by the current of suits streaming in both directions on sidewalks and subway. People here are like molecules compressed into a low volume space, oscillating at higher speeds under the pressure. Compare it to Los Angeles, a horizontal city as opposed to New York's vertical configuration. With so much horizontal space per person, everything moves more slowly, and even those looking to speed around get caught in gridlock.


I do think that finding some routes out of Manhattan on my bike will help. My breakaway didn't quite succeed, but attack enough and one day you'll outrun the peloton. I'm going to tape that cue sheet to my forearm on my next trip.


Tour Day 1


Well, I guess Lance is in good form. His performance today was like coming out in the decisive game 7 of the World Series and knocking out the other team's starter in the first inning, or coming out in the first round of a prize fight and knocking his opponent to the canvas twice. Or like Michael Jordan reversing baseline to elude a double team against the Knicks and then throwing down on Patrick Ewing. In actually catching and passing Ullrich, Lance dealt a humiliating psychological blow to one of his chief competitors. It sounds as if Armstrong and Brunyeel and everyone in the know consider Vinokourov the chief competitor from T-Mobile anyway, but it was still a bit shocking and sad to see Ullrich actually passed in a medium length time trial (TT). Mentally, it's always easier to chase a target on a bike than to be out front, and as soon as Lance saw Jan, everyone knew what was going to happen.




(Image by famed cycling photographer Graham Watson): check out Lance's

sweet custom Bontrager rear disc wheel, covered with graphics of significance

from his life, including the number 7 and the Zodiac symbol for Cancer.





Another timely pic by Graham Watson: Armstrong lines up Ullrich.


Ullrich was fortunate to be able to mount his bike at all today. In a TT training ride yesterday, Jan was pacing behind his team station wagon when a truck cut them off. The station wagon braked hard, and so did Jan, but as anyone knows, road bike brakes suck. Jan flew through the rear window of the station wagon head first and ended up in the back seat, shattering the rear window. He's lucky to be alive.


Prologue winner Dave Zabriskie showed that his TT win in the Giro was no fluke. He rode the second fastest average speed in a TDF TT ever. Amazing! In 19km, he was putting gaining about 3 seconds a km on riders like Vino, Landis, Cancellara, Voigt, and Ullrich. On a flat TT course that's massive, requiring a large advantage in power output. The future of American cycling may not be that grim after all.


The future may be grim for Lance's Shimano rep or mechanic, though. I'd hate to be that guy. Lance came out of his pedals at the start of the TT, just as at the Dauphiné. I believe Lance still rides Shimano Dura-Ace pedals. Don't expect Lance's cleat to pop out in Tuesday's TT, or they'll be building another roadside memorial for someone.


Bill Gifford writes in Slate that the Tour de France has become a bore and suggests some ways to spice it up. The article is a bit of a mess, and it's not entirely clear what Gifford claims is boring. At first he blames the French and the course layout. He feels the template of flat stages, a time trial, followed by the mountain stages is dull. The Tour organizers have actually altered the course every year the past few years to try and make things more challenging for Armstrong, but it doesn't work because the best rider is the best rider, and Armstrong adapts to each course and turns it to his advantage. I don't think Gifford seriously considers going back to a Tour with fewer, longer stages (in the past, some stages have run nearly 300 miles and forced riders to ride on into darkness) or to a Tour with riders slogging through unpaved roads. He cites both as evidence of the good ole days of the Tour.


Then Gifford writes that the riders today are "overtrained automatons," reminiscing about colorful characters like Eddy Merckx and Jacques Anquetil, "whose ideal race preparation consisted of 'a good pheasant, some chapagne, and a woman.'" The truth is that there are colorful characters in cycling now, but a cyclist who drank and ate and didn't train to his full potential wouldn't survive in today's Tour, nor would they in most other sports.


Gifford's first suggestion is to put more mountain stages in the first week of the Tour, or insert some steeper mountains like Spain's Angliru, a mountaintop finish so steep that David Millar got off his bike a foot from the finish line and retired in protest after riding up Angliru in the rain one year. I'm fine with more mountaintop finishes, even steeper mountains, but adding these, especially in the first week of the Tour, would likely just give the Tour to Lance sooner. You'd also lose all the top sprinters, many of whom retire when the mountains arrive anyway, and I enjoy watching the huge sprinters haul ass towards the finish at some 45mph the first week.


Gifford also suggests adding more unpaved roads to the route a la Paris Roubaix. Well, the Tour added cobblestones in last year's route. By virtue of having the strongest team, Lance was out front safe while Mayo crashed and never recovered, effectively dropping out of contention that day. Gifford wants more mountains to separate the contenders from the pretenders, then asks for more unpaved roads, which just add more random accidents that might actually hurt the real contenders.


His next suggestion: lose the dope. Sure, everyone would love to see that, though that doesn't necessarily correlate with a more interesting Tour. It's just the right thing to do, but Gifford doesn't offer any proposals as to how to clean up the sport.


Lose the race radios. An interesting idea, to remove the element of on-course tactical coaching. This is how cycling used to be. It could be interesting to do so, allowing for more breakaways and forcing cyclists to rely on themselves on the road. In practicality, live television coverage means even the average spectator knows how far ahead a breakaway is, and without radios domestiques would simply have to ride back to the team car to get an update from a coach watching a live feed on television or hearing it over the cell phone from someone in a hotel room. Gifford believes this would allow more breakaway packs to stay away, which might be true, but a pack of unknowns in a breakaway has never really been all that exciting to me. A solo breakaway? Yes, that makes for good drama, and with race radios, they're all the more compelling when they succeed, which still happens at least a few times each Tour.


I agree with Gifford that the French are over-represented in the Tour. The race organizers favor French teams, even when they don't earn their spots on merit. It dilutes the field, and last year the Tour missed the flamboyant Italian sprinter Cipollini, who earned a fine in every Tour for wearing an outlandish costume of some sort.


Finally, Gifford comes to what feels like the crux of his argument: "Lance must lose." Gifford felt Lance rode defensively last year. I seem to remember Lance sprinting to a stage win over Kloden, even when he didn't need it. Asked why he hadn't just given Kloden the meaningless stage victory, Lance replied: "Pas de cadeaux." Lance won five out of the last eight stages, hardly riding defensively. I think Gifford simply doesn't like the fact that Lance dominated the Tour last year. Maybe Gifford should mail Lance a pheasant and a bottle of bubbly to share with Sheryl in the hopes of throwing the king off his game.


What the Tour needs are some challengers to push Lance in the mountains, like Pantani did in 2000. Vino, if healthy, is a lot of fun to watch, always attacking, and if Ullrich throws his support to Vinokourov, that would be a compelling storyline. Another potential adversary of not would be Iban Mayo if he survives to the mountain stages without losing too much more time and if he can find his pre-Tour form from last season. Maybe former teammates Floyd Landis or Levi Leipheimer or even Roberto Heras will attack in the mountains.


Another way to spice up the Tour might be to toss in a time trial as the final stage, as in the 1989 Tour when LeMond edged out Fignon to win by 8 seconds in the closest Tour ever. In all of Lance's Tour victories, the final stage has been ceremonial, a victory parade up and down the Champs Elysees.


The truth is, however, that Lance peaks for the Tour and is always the strongest rider coming into the race. No amount of meddling with the course will hold off the inevitable, especially when he rides on the strongest team. Contrarian sentiments are always refreshing, but Gifford's critique of the Tour lacks punch.


***


I wouldn't go so far as to call Wimbledon a bore, but the absence of the pure serve and volley game at the All England Club saddens me. On the women's side, all the top girls are baseline mashers. Since Navratilova, I can't recall a single woman other than perhaps Novotna who played the serve and volley game on grass. On the men's side, Tim Henman and Taylor Dent seem like the last of the serve and volley grasscourters. Federer actually came to net less than Hewitt in their semi. Part of this is because racket technology has increased the effectiveness of the backcourt game. You can hit a lot more winners off the ground, and increased spin and pace on passing shots and service returns decreases the effectiveness of going to net. There was something beautiful, though, about seeing guys like McEnroe and Edberg charge net and turn a huge return into an unreachable, angled volley. Maybe with so many hard hitters and big returners in the juniors, no one ever develops a serve and volley game. Grass court tennis is starting to look just like tennis at the Aussie Open or U.S. Open.


Doyle Brunson wins his 10th World Series of Poker bracelet. And, though I didn't even know she played poker until James and Angela told me she did, actress Jennifer Tilly won one, too. There are so many WSOP events that soon there will be as many WSOP bracelets going around as Livestrong bracelets.


It's Tour time, baby!


Ever since 1999, July has meant one thing in my mind: Lance in France. The 2005 Tour de France kicks off Saturday morning, and I'm all geeked up. One thing, though, does have me down. I'm not headed over to watch the Tour in person for the first time in four years. The cost proved prohibitive this time around, and I'm going to ache as much as if I had to work through the Christmas holiday season. There's nothing like being in France and watching the Tour in person. It's the type of vacation I could do every year for the rest of my life, and for a while I thought I just might. Everyone should try it at least once.


I'll miss riding through the beautiful sun-drenched French countryside, hundreds of thousands sunflowers swaying in the wind; suffering up the gorgeous but soaring Alps as if climbing into the azure skies; inching up the steep and unforgiving Pyrenees in sweet agony; eliciting a few cheers of my own from spectators from all over the world, camped out on the roadside waiting for the Tour to pass by; burning so many calories that no amount of delicious French food can keep me from dropping a few pounds; struggling to make sense of sweat-drenched paper maps and unmarked backcountry roads; French cheese and bread; the thrumming bass of helicopter blades from further on down the mountain, portending the arrival of the head of the peloton; the sound of several hundred thousand fans, worked up to a frenzy; partying with crazy Dutch contingent on a mountaintop finish (so generous the past two years with their satellite television, their beer, their music); the invigorating chaos; feeling the breeze from these god-like cyclists screaming by at 35 mph just a foot or two from my face; les femmes françaises; discussing cycling with people who've followed the sport nearly all their lives, who know cycling like few people in the American public do; Paris.


I wish I could be there to watch Lance's last Tour. As those of you close to me know, I feel a particular kinship with Armstrong. I lost my mother and grandmother to cancer in 1998, the year Armstrong came back from cancer to prepare for the Tour. My left knee exploded (just about) that same year, that awful year, and after surgery my physical therapist prescribed cycling, a low-impact way to regain mobility in my knee and strength in my legs. In 1999, when Lance Armstrong shocked the cycling world by winning his first Tour de France, I purchased a road bike and became a cycling junkie. In 2000 I completed the Seattle to Portland (STP) one-day ride with a group of friends. In 2001 I got a taste of what it means to suffer in the mountains during the Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day (RAMROD).


In 2002 I really learned what it meant to suffer in the mountains during a Tour de France cycling camp led by Lance Armstrong's coach, Chris Carmichael. Tom Simpson died on Mont Ventoux in 1967, and under a scorching French sun I thought I might join him. In 2003, on my second tour of duty in the south of France, Lance survived all sorts of calamities to tie the record of five Tour victories. And last year, my most recent trip to France, Lance broke that record.


Though American television has carried very little of Lance's race season, I've followed his performances online. He looked strong in the Dauphiné Libéré, and he looks to be peaking at just the right time. Meanwhile, Jan Ullrich looks just a bit heavy and slow, as if he'll have to ride himself into shape during the Tour yet again. Some things never change.


I don't see any reason why Lance shouldn't be favored to win again. He has Tour preparation and his team dynamics down to a science. Despite living at the eye of a hurricane of publicity and fame, he has an iron grip on every variable in his control.


The team he's bringing to the Tour de France is, on paper, the best cycling stage team ever. The new ICU rules requiring teams to enter all the Grand Tours actually consolidated power with the top teams, and Discovery Channel Cycling is now the strongest team in the world. Among those shepherding Lance around the outside of France:


  • Jose Azevedo, sixth in the Tour in 2002 and fifth in the Tour last year.

  • Manuel Beltran, three time top-10 finisher in the Vuelta.

  • George Hincapie, Lance's faithful lieutenant, someone who's evolved into the ultimate domestique. Also the guy who's lived every male cyclist's dream by hooking up with one of the Tour de France podium girls.

  • Yaroslav Popovych, perhaps the best of the rising young stars in the cycling world and Lance's future successor as Discovery Channel team leader.

  • Jose Luis Rubiera, four time top-10 finisher at the Vuelta and Giro.

  • Paolo Savoldelli, winner of the Giro in 2002 and this year!


If they stay healthy, they'll be a juggernaut.


At this stage in his career Lance would not ride the Tour de France unless he felt he could and would win. The athlete Lance reminds me of most is Michael Jordan, and not just because they both have their own buildings at Nike HQ. Both are hyper competitive, brash and magnificently arrogant, and both maximize their freakish genetic athletic gifts with an unmatched work ethic. Both say the right things to the press, managing their public images with meticulous care, yet ask any of their opponents and they'll tell you that Lance and Michael are vicious, ruthless killers. I remember reading an article by Jason Williams (the one who shot someone on his estate) in which Williams described Michael as a "hard, hard man," that if you crossed Mike on the court he'd track you down and utter, "I'll f***ing break you" in what I can only imagine was a voice from hell. Mike even cracked many a teammate in practice, before they'd even made it into an actual game. One of the images of Michael I'll always remember is his face-off with Xavier McDaniel in the 1992 Eastern Finals. The Knicks had been beating up on the Bulls all series, and the X-Man had finally crossed a line. Michael locked foreheads with McDaniel, shooting him a look of raw fury and uttering what I doubt was the Lord's prayer. Then Jordan went out and led the Bulls to a Game 7 rout.


Various stories of how Lance and Mike gain a psychological edge on their chief competitors circulate among followers of the sport like myths. Lance calling his competitors during the offseason from mountainside climbs and asking them if they knew where he was. Michael trash-talking opponents like Charles Barkley during offseason rounds of golf, probing for any sense of doubt or weakness. Jeff Van Gundy called Michael out on it one season in the press, and the next time the Bulls played the Knicks, a game I was at, Jordan dropped 51 on the Knicks and then cussed Van Gundy out from the court after points 50 and 51 dropped through the net.


They both also demand absolute loyalty from those around them. Slip up once and you'll go from the inner circle to the doghouse just like that, and that doghouse is like a max security prison. Pippen was the perfect teammate for Jordan because he didn't want to be the alpha dog. Hincapie is the perfect sidekick for Lance because for three weeks each July he has no thought other than to put and keep Lance in yellow. Lance's teammates who've left for other teams--Kevin Livingston, Roberto Heras, Floyd Landis--well, let's just say Michael Corleone telling Fredo, "You're dead to me now" comes to mind. One can't shake the sense that even those loyal to Michael or Lance are scared of them. Tiger Woods is the same way, as his former caddy will attest. At this year's Tour of Georgia, when Lance Armstrong helped lead out teammate Tom Danielson to the overall race lead over ex-teammate Floyd Landis on the brutal Brasstown Bald climb, Lance pointed at Landis and then the race clock as they crossed the finish, as if to point out that Floyd could have had the race lead if he'd just stayed by Lance's side.


Even if they didn't have enemies, I suspect Lance and Michael would conjure some up. Both athletes have origin stories for their greatness, almost like comic book heroes. Peter Parker became Spiderman when bitten by a radioactive spider and when his neglect of a criminal led to his Uncle Ben's death. Michael Jordan set out to prove the world wrong when cut from his high school basketball team. Lance Armstrong carries an eternal chip on his shoulder because his father abandoned he and his mother to grow up in a rough neighborhood in Dallas. Later, the cancer that nearly killed him actually transformed him into a champion. Mentally, he had cheated death, and no human competitor could ever intimidate him. He'd live life to the fullest because he had been given a second chance. Physically, it didn't sap his power but did shave some ten or fifteen pounds off his frame, turning him into a that rare combination: a cyclist who could climb and time trial. Who knows if these events have any significance at all? The stories may be passed around more for the rest of us than for Lance or Michael.


Both elevated their sports in unique ways. Jordan, as documented in Playing for Keeps by David Halberstam, Jordan was a once in a lifetime player on the court and off the court, transcending his country, sport, and race to become an international mega celebrity. The NBA is still searching for Jordan's successor as its international mega-ambassador. Armstrong's first Tour win came a year after international cycling seemed ready to collapse under a series of drug scandals. Though cycling still has the drug-use sword of Damocles hanging over it, Armstrong has stayed clean and remained the sport's top story. Having beat cancer, Armstrong is more than just a cyclist; he's an living miracle, an all-purpose motivational speaker, and a deity in the cancer survivor community. Though not everyone loves to see one person dominate a sport year after year, having a single lightning rod for the fan's adoration and attention or hatred allows mythologies and legends to sprout. The NBA hasn't been the same draw since Jordan retired from the Bulls, and I highly doubt the Tour de France will see the same number of American spectators in 2006 that it did in 2004.


Lance's toughest competitors in the 2005 Tour? Himself and bad luck. He's definitely older, not quite as dominant in the time trials on mountains as he once was. For a professional cyclist he's an old man at 34. In a three week stage race, when only minutes or seconds separate the top several riders after over 90 hours on the road, any number of mishaps can cost a rider the race. A crash, an injury, one bad day on a mountain, food poisoning, an overzealous fan, a political protester, mechanical failure.


After that, his toughest competitors, as named by Johan Brunyeel, will be Jan Ullrich, Alexandre Vinokourov, Ivan Basso. Ullrich is a great time trialist but isn't explosive on climbs, and he's like Patrick Ewing or Karl Malone to Armstrong's Michael Jordan: perhaps just not vicious or cold-blooded enough to deliver the winning blow. Vino is a brave, aggressive rider, but not a great time trialist, and he'll be marked the whole race through this time around. Basso hung with Armstrong on two mountaintop finishes last year, but his time trialing isn't in that topmost echelon. Levi Leipheimer, and old teammate of Armstrong's, is also a strong time trialist and climber, but his team may not be strong enough to carry him through. None of Armstrong's former teammates has ever really damaged Lance in the Tour, and there may be a psychological barrier at play there.


Two ways to get pumped for the Tour this week: read Lance Armstrong's War by Daniel Coyle and watch the Lance Week programming on the Discovery Channel family of cable networks. Sang first alerted me to Coyle's book (his cousin used to date Coyle), and then I spotted a few rave reviews in the press. I'm a sucker for any non-fiction Lance Armstrong and/or cycling-related book, and the details at the book's official website sealed the deal. In particular, don't miss the Q&A with Coyle about Lance. Coyle moved to Europe and followed Lance for the year of his sixth Tour de France win, living my dream life, and in doing so, Coyle appears to have captured a more intimate portrait of the man. Most people who've been around cycling for many years know that Lance can be brash in a Texas-sized way, and Coyle donned his wings for a flyby of the sun. This quote from a Velonews interview with Coyle is revealing: "he is a good hero for my 10-year old son, but I wouldn't necessarily want him to date my daughter." Sounds like Michael Jordan, no?


I just received my review copy of the book today, and it will be a miracle if I don't devour it in the next few days.


Tour coverage in the U.S. will be on OLNTV, as usual, live from 8:30 to 11:30am EST daily, with several replays on into the evening. In most years, the Prologue doesn't provide much separation among the race contenders. This year, however, the Tour begins with a medium length time trial rather than the more customary short prologue time trial. This will limit the top finishers to true time trialers, of which Lance and Ullrich are two of the best, and it might provide significant separation among the contenders right away. Santiago Botero and Michael Rogers are also excellent time trialists, and Lance's former teammates Leipheimer and Floyd Landis could be near the top as well.


Follow daily updates on the Tour online at Velonews. Find collections of links at the Tour de France blog, which I'll be checking out this year for the first time and through which I discovered this gorgeous infographic on Lance (PDF). Read commentary at The Paceline and Team Discovery Channel websites. And this year Sirius is offering a daily Lance in France podcast during the Tour; iTunes 4.9 makes it a cinch to subscribe.


And to ease the blogging load on myself so I can keep up with the Tour, I'll try to post bits from my personal journal from my first visit to the Tour de France in 2002.


Best man speeches


Bawdy best-man speeches given by the actual best man on earth at the time

I hate to generalize based on such a small sample size, but based on all the weddings I've been to, the Best Man speech is humorous, poking fun at the groom and leaving the room in stitches. With a bit of alcohol, there's always a chance that something inappropriate might be said. The Maid of Honor's speech is sentimental and weepy, leaving the entire room uncomfortably silent, a few girls dabbing at their eyes while the guys look at the floor wishing it would end.


Phil Jackson returns to coach the Los Angeles Lakers


Asafa Powell of Jamaica breaks the world record in the men's 100 meter dash

He ran it in 9.77 seconds to beat Tim Montgomery's disputed (b/c of doping suspicions) record of 9.78.


The magic sunscreen that's still illegal in the U.S.

Mexoryl is not FDA-approved, but it blocks UVA light better than any ingredients in sunscreens in the U.S. Bootleg it from drugstores on the Upper East Side or from Canadian pharmacy websites.


Discovery Channel goes 1-2-3 in final stage of Tour de France tune-up race

George Hincapie, Yaroslav Popovych, and Lance Armstrong take places 1 through 3, respectively, in the final stage of the Dauphiné Libéré. Armstrong finishes fourth overall, behind unknown Inigo Landaluze, who was the only rider on his team to finish the race, and Santiago Botero and Levi Leipheimer. Vino finished fifth. Should be a really competitive Tour de France. I recall that OLN TV had much more coverage of cycling leading up to the Tour last year. Much to my disappointment, cycling television coverage has been sparse this year outside of the Giro d'Italia.


The New York Asian Film Festival 2005 has a sweet lineup of movies


Michael Jackson to change his lifestyle

"Michael Jackson's lawyer said today that the singer will no longer share his bed with young boys."


Rockefeller Center hosts free Drive-In Movies from tonight through Saturday evening at 9pm each night. Seating begins at 6pm.

The lineup this year is documentary-heavy:

June 14th - “Rize” - David LaChapelle's documentary about krumping, a style of dancing from the L.A. ghettoes. Saw and enjoyed this at the Tribeca Film Festival.

June 15th - “The Baxter” - Michael Showalter romantic comedy set in Brooklyn.

June 16th – “All We Are Saying” - Rosanna Arquette's star-studded documentary on the state of the music business.

June 17th – “Show Business” - documentary about the brutal Broadway production business.


Hub


Living in NYC is like hosting a party attended by a lot of supermodels. Or getting a boob job. People you haven't seen in ages just drop in all the time. I've had old friends in town for seven weeks straight now. Compare that to living in Seattle when I'd be surprised if more than one person visited within the span of half a year.


Jen stopped in over a month back, and we grabbed dinner at Blue Ribbon Sushi in Soho. It was my first time there. Visitors are always a good excuse for a nice meal out. Who else did we spy in the lobby of Jen's hotel? Clive Owen. I wanted to ask him to repeat one of the funnier lines from the movies in 2004 (delivered with his signature venom in Closer, "You writer.").


Rich was in town the week after. Martinis at 2pm in the afternoon, and a slab of bacon at Gramercy Tavern at happy hour (my first time in the bar area there; the bacon entree, if it's still there, is artery-clogging nirvana). After that, Glengarry Glen Ross on Broadway, followed by an 11 pm surf and turf dinner at some steakhouse near Times Square. They brought out a slab of red meat the size of half a loaf of bread. It took me a week to recover, and even then, angioplasty looms large.


Then Bill dropped into town. More late afternoon martinis as we waited for a seat at Union Square Cafe. Seated at the bar, we battled the dizzying influence of the martinis with USC's famous garlic potato chips, then chose some heavier artillery in the roast suckling pig.


Karen was in town for James's birthday, and we visited EN Japanese Brasserie in the West Village. We had the omakase dinner. I've been a few times now, and I prefer to order a la carte. The omakase wasn't all that satisfying taste-wise or portion-size as compared to the food my previous visits. Go a la carte, order the pork belly. I can't but help thinking of izakaya restaurants in Vancouver when I try izakaya in NYC. Vancouver's are better and two orders of magnitude cheaper.


Who was next? Howie, I think. His tastes are quite specific. We had Double Shack burgers at Shake Shack on a sunny afternoon. Nothing better, though the lines there are borderline prohibitive. The burgers are really good there, but remember to get at least a Double Shack burger. The regular Shack burger doesn't have enough meat, the Double is just right, and the Triple is indulgent. I needed all the calories to keep up, what with Howie keeping me up past 5am some four nights in a row. My body clock is still on the graveyard shift some two weeks later.


This past weekend, I was waiting for Scott to join me for a bike ride when Audrey called me on my cell. Turns out she was in town for a wedding and only a few blocks away. I rode over and walked her and her boyfriend and friends down to the Ashes and Snow exhibit, then met back up with Scott where we battled the annoying Fleet Week crowds all the way up the West side until we reached Central Park. The Central Park loop of 6 miles was just barely tolerable, what with pedestrians wandering out in front of us with nary a look in either direction. We couldn't really go that fast for fear of running over some fellow New Yorkers. We rode back down 5th Ave., my first taste cycling NY city streets in high traffic, and it was an adrenaline rush. Just plain terrifying. Scott rode without a helmet; he's crazy (Scott's also training for an Ironman, more proof he's crazy). A few times I felt like I was in a BMW commercial as city buses on either side of me collapsed in on me. This must be what it felt like in the approach run towards the exhaust chute of the Death Star in Star Wars. Not an experience I'd seek out, and I shudder to think of someone trying to learn to ride clipless pedals in Manhattan.


I also visited my new nephew Evan and happy/tired parents Alan and Sharon out in Long Island this weekend. We celebrated Sharon's birthday by battling Mace Windu and General Grievous in James's copy of Revenge of the Sith for XBox. No wait, correction. We ate cupcakes to celebrate Sharon's birthday. The light saber battling was just calisthenics for the fingers.


Dave's in town this week. We had dinner tonight downstairs at BLT Fish (upstairs, the fancier half of the restaurant, is reservations only). I hadn't eaten all day when I met up with Dave, and two beers on an empty stomach left me a little loopy. This always happens when people are in town--I end up drunk before dinner. My fish and chips? Nothing special, but Dave's striped bass impressed. Afterwards I stumbled home, and just as I collapsed on my sofa, my phone ran. Bill was in town for Book Expo. A short cab ride later, he was sitting on my beanbag. We caught up again for an hour or two. By the time I jumped online, Dave had already posted about our dinner.


Emily's in town next week, and then nearly the entire family comes through the week after. Cirrhosis the weekend after? Exhaustion, at a minimum.


Of course, I'm under no illusions that anyone is here to visit me. I'd like to think it's personality, personality, personality, but as with real estate, it's all about location, location, location.


Somewhat related note: is there a term for someone you haven't heard from in ages who suddenly e-mails, then when you respond, they go silent? E-mail and run? Pump fake?


...


Darn, Lance is going to skip Paris-Roubaix after all


I like this week's New Yorker cartoon of the week. My nephew Ryan is a Babar fan; I'll have to save this for him.




New York Magazine's Best of New York 2005


John Updike reviews Jonathan Safran Foer's second novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Updike would have preferred the novel slightly further away, and a bit quieter


Food porn

Agh, I'm so hungry


Waiter Rant

Meant to post this a while ago--I think I saw it it in a NYTimes article a while back--but it's still a fresh read


The movie rental version of "Who's on First?"


NASA's World Wind is a sweet app that allows you to browse photos on any place on earth via satellite photography

Sadly, it's only available for Windows users, but I demoed it on a friend's computer and it's cool, if a bit slow


The compressed world of Manhattan


I was chatting with a guy in my cooking class, and he mentioned he was from Austin. I told him I wanted to visit Austin sometime to do the Ride for the Roses, and he said his brother was best friends with Lance Armstrong and helped to organize the ride.


"Wait, your brother is Bart Knaggs?" I asked, in some disbelief.


"Yeah!" he said.


I met Bart the first time I visited the Tour in 2002. On the last day of our trip, he joined us for dinner at our hotel. Good guy, and a bull of a rider.


Today I read that one of the finalists is New York Citi Habitats real estate broker Judd Harris. He was one of the brokers who showed me apartments when I first arrived in NYC. He was one of the more humane of an otherwise sleazy profession, though he didn't find me any sterling properties. I'll have to check in on American Idol from time to time this season to cheer him on. May he sell to Simon, Paula, and Randy better than he did to me.


Lucky 7?


Lance Armstrong announced today that he will ride in the Tour de France this year and attempt to win an unprecedented 7th title. He's also riding the Tour de Georgia again April 19-24. Wow, he has a packed racing schedule this year.


I'm torn. Financially, I'm not sure I can swing another trip to the Tour this year, but it's become an annual voyage for me. In the heart of summer, it just wouldn't be the same if I wasn't gasping for air while climbing one of the Alps or the Pyrnees, melting pavement below, screaming French to either side, and nothing but blue skies above.


...


Fighting cancer with HIV


Best places for viewing The Gates in Central Park


Lance Armstrong to ride Paris-Nice this year

Awesome. He's also riding the Tour of Flanders, Amstel Gold, Fleche Wallonne, Liege-Bastogne-Liege as part of his renewed commitment to the one-day classics, i.e., he was bored of dominating the TDF


Interesting sports photo from the Paralympic Games

Lots of other great 2005 World Press Photos of the Year. Some others I like (here here here here here here here here here here)


Google Print

Google's answer to Amazon's Search Inside the Book


Crumbs


The Face Analyzer purports to determine your personal characteristics from your portrait


The description of the methodology leaves a whole lot to be desired, but it's worth a few chuckles around the water cooler on a slow day. The results seem erratic. they tagged Bill Gates as a 10.0 out of 10.0 for income but Paris Hilton at just a 3.9 for promiscuity. No, I did not upload my photo yet


An avalanche of new products from Apple announced at MacWorld

Too many cool things to list, and most of the coolest is on the software side, in my opinion. Includes HD support across the iLife and Final Cut Express apps. Multi-way video and audio iChat. Being a Mac user is a hell of a lot more fun than being a Windows user. Microsoft has a ton of great ideas and smart technologists, but their product life cycles are much too long (their margin of error is provided by their massive installed base). Meanwhile, Apple seems to issue new hardware every 4 months, productivity app upgrades every half year, and operating system upgrades every year (take the Tiger tour; how many big cats are left?)


iCal calendars to subscribe to (e.g. U.S. holidays, sports schedules, movie openings)

Now that I don't have a Windows computer anymore, I use iCal to manage my schedule and to-do list. Now that Macs are available for $499, maybe some more of you will switch over as well and find these of use


Ciphire Mail is a free e-mail encryption client

Yo, folks I e-mail regularly: let me know if you download this, too, so our trivial e-mail conversations will be secured from the eyes of the prying world


The USPS Cycling team is now Team Discovery Channel

Strange to see Lance in the new uniform. He still hasn't decided if he's going to ride the Tour de France this year. Nervous TDF bike tour operators wait in suspense.


Six Apart's comprehensive guide to stopping comment spam

Since I get hit with this crap almost daily, I plan to implement these steps in the next week or so


The website of the girl from Fox's reality TV show "Who's Your Daddy"

Included is a letter clarifying some issues surrounding the show. I never watched it, but that didn't hinder my enjoyment of the letter. Supposedly the show was originally titled Reunited, or so she was told.


Robot makers are confident they can win the World Cup by 2050


An Acehnese man swept out to sea by the tsunami survives for two weeks

He ate coconuts for 12 days, clung to a log, climbed in a damaged wooden boat, and finally cobbled together a raft from floating debris. In the wake of all the tragedy, good to read a story of survival. A real life Cast Away. He's the third Indonesian rescued from open sea since the tsunami. The others include a pregnant woman who clung to a palm tree for five days and man who spent eight days aboard an uprooted tree.


Search for illicit weapons in Iraq ends


Just for the record, they didn't have any when we sent in the troops


Malcolm Gladwell and James Surowiecki, two New Yorker giants, discuss their books Blink and The Wisdom of Crowds at Slate

I read the latter and enjoyed it, and am awaiting my Amazon shipment of the former


Stephanie Zacharek, David Edelstein, A.O. Scott, Charles Taylor, and Armond White discuss the year in movies at Slate


Bare Bones Software makes its text editor TextWrangler 2.0 free

Good for them, and good for us


Mr. Blackwell issues his annual worst dressed list


Nicollette Sheridan is the worst of the worst, joined by Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Courtney Love, Serena Williams, Britney Spears, Paula Abdul, Meryl Streep, Anna Nicole Smith, and the Simpson sisters. Best dressed include Nicole Kidman, Natalie Portman, Barbara Walters, Kate Winslet, Annette Bening, Oprah Winfrey, Scarlett Johansson, Gwen Stefani, Jennifer Garner, and Teri Hatcher


SmartDeck, a new intelligent cassette adapter for the iPod

Allows you to use your cassette player buttons in your car to control your iPod. Simple, and brilliant


For you lazy people: gargling with Listerine is not as good as flossing

But by all means, keep gargling. Halitosis stinks


So does B.O., so wear Federline, the new scent by Britney Spears


Phonak fires Tyler Hamilton

Phonak fired Tyler Hamilton, but the UCI still banned the team from the 2005 Pro Tour. Just a tragic story all around.
Anyone who thinks expansion adds too many new teams to leagues like the NBA or MLB would be shocked at pro cycling, where the average life of a pro team must be around two or three years before the team's sponsor pulls out for financial or (as in the case of Phonak) legal reasons.
Meanwhile, Tyler continues the fight to clear his name.

OLN interview with Lance Armstrong

The Paceline has a transcript of OLN's post-Tour interview with Lance Armstrong. It's split into five parts (1, 2, 3, 4, 5), and it's worth the free registration to access them.
In particular, it answers a few open questions I had.
For example, what did Ullrich say to Lance after the descent from Col de la Croix Fry? Jan wanted Lance and Floyd to work with him, but Lance rightly urged Jan to pull since he had the most to gain on Basso that day.
Is it true Levi wants to rejoin US Postal? Lance was coy but made it known he'd love to have more Americans back together on Discovery Cycling. Personally, I think Rabobank does not have the right team to support Levi in his effort to win a major Tour (he rode too many kms alone this year to crack the podium), so rejoining a stronger team like Postal/Discovery would be smart.
Why didn't Lance gift Kloden stage 17 in the sprint? "...from the beginning of the Tour I said there are not going to be any gifts this Tour, I have done it as often as possible in most Tours and I never get paid back, in fact you end up getting slapped in the face for it..." I watched that stage end on Eurosport, and afterwards Lance recounted in French in an interview that Hinault had congratulated Lance on the podium afterwards and said, "Pas de cadeaux."
Phonak looked so strong, what went wrong? It didn't help that they used 19 mm tires during the team trial. As Lance puts it, "In the Team Time Trial they would have been close even with 3 or 4 flat tires, the only thing I go to there is: it was a terrible day, terrible weather

Discovery Cycling signs Popovych

U.S. Postal, soon to be Discovery Cycling, has signed Yaroslav Popovych to a 3 year contract beginning next season. The 24 year old is a future grand tour contender. Guillaume had told us that this move was rumored to be near, and Oleg, a fellow Russian, was excited at the possibility.
All the major cycling teams will need to beef up their rosters because of the new rules going into effect that will limit teams in the Tour de France to those who compete at all three grand tours. Since Lance will likely focus his efforts on only one of them (and bring lots of the teams' strongest cyclists with him), Discovery will need strong cyclists to contend in the other two tours. Popovych can race either the Tour or the Giro, whichever Lance turns down.

The hottest fashion accessory: LIVESTRONG

The hottest fashion accessory around the globe? The yellow LIVESTRONG armband being sold for $1 each to raise money for the fight against cancer. Nearly everyone in our tour group at the Tour de France had one, and many brought dozens to give away. If you didn't have one, you could have purchased one from vendors walking up and down the roads at every stage of the race.
I hear they're ubiquitous in the States as well, though I haven't been back to confirm it. Right now, every SKU for the armband is completely back ordered. As an alternative, you could purchase a $250 t-shirt and photo package.


Bubbly

As with most sporting events, the Tour de France is best seen on television. To experience the Tour, though, one has to come to France and stand on the side of the roads to cheer the riders on.
I finally attended a TDF finish on the Champs Elysees yesterday. We watched from the friends of Jean-Marie Leblanc section. Apparently Jean-Marie has a lot of friends, many of them tall. Saddled with a cough and sore throat, I felt light-headed most of the day and couldn't find the strength to fight my way to the race barrier.
Most stores and restaurants near the Champs Elysees are closed Sunday, especially on race finish day, so food was difficult to find. I ended up having to settle for a bare hot dog (the bun would have cost 3 euros) and some bland frites (french fries).
I've been riding 50 to 60 miles a day, much of it up massive cols, yet standing all afternoon was almost more draining. By the end of the day my feet and back ached. Fortunately, the weather was near perfect. Sunny, on the cool side.
We observed most of the race on a giant screen. As usual, the riders soft-pedaled most of the stage, allowing Lance and his team to form the ceremonial line across the road for a stretch. Only Simeoni attempted to ruin the festivities by breaking away to try and reach Paris first. Tradition is to allow the team of the race leader to enter Paris first. US Postal shut that down quickly, and indeed, they led the first lap around the Champs Elysees, wearing ceremonial blue jerseys with yellow stripes.
When Lance ascended the podium and held the yellow cap to his heart as they played the Stars and Stripes, I thought back on his six consecutive victories and how they overlapped almost perfectly with my near seven years in Seattle. I started cycling and following cycling intently almost immediately after he won his first Tour, though it was because of a need to rehabilitate my knee after ACL reconstruction. Lance's story, his comeback from cancer to capture his first Tour in 1999, riveted me because I had just lost my mother to cancer in 1998.
So I wanted and needed to be here this year for this, his sixth.
The evening was not over. Our Breaking Away group went for an evening boat ride down the Seine. Then I grabbed dinner with Guillaume, Richard, Jim, Angela, Kathy, and Oleg. Guillaume was one of our tour guides, the quintessential Frog, as he calls himself in jest. Everytime I hear a male French voice, I think it's Guillaume, so archetypal is his French accent. Richard and Jim are two Kiwis, traveling through France. Angela is Richard's partner and Kathy is Jim's wife, and I met them for the first time that evening.
Oleg has been my riding partner for most of the trip, though he usually drops me about halfway through each ride. He and I share similar vices: fine dining, high end home theater equipment, and of course all things cycling. He lives on the coast of San Diego, and I expect I'll see him again once my parents move out there. Oleg is a caterer/chef, and his description of the kitchen he has at home is so over the top that I absolutely have to visit him once, just to see it for myself.
After a Middle Eastern dinner, we cruised over to Barfly after midnight to celebrate Richard's birthday with a bottle of champagne. Barfly is chic, one of those places beautiful people go to be seen by less beautiful people like myself.
Then it was on to the OLN party at the top of an office complex on the Champs Elysees. Guillaume's brother Tibo (or Thibeault, I suspect) works for OLN and just seems like one of those genial socialites about town. The balcony had a gorgeous view of the Eiffel Tower, lit up in a fiery hue until a concluding ten minute shimmering light display at 2:00am. Oleg and I got the greatest kick out of meeting Frankie Andreu, Phil Liggett, Paul Sherwen, and Kristen Gum.
Speaking of OLN, I missed a lot of their coverage since I was over here, but the EuroSport coverage is excellent. They show entire stages here in Europe, from start to finish, and each evening at 10pm they broadcast an hour recap on two channels, one in French, one in English. The English commentary is provided by David Duffield, Sean Kelly, and Christi Valentine-Anderson (wife of former pro Phil Anderson). Christi in particular is excellent; she's like a Mary Carillo for cycling, extremely knowledgeable and astute. Good on her for carving out space in a predominantly male field.
I'm still staggering a bit this morning, champagne on the breath, some virus still beating up my already sore and weary body. But the overcast streets of Paris call me out today, as everyday.
I adore Paris. Someday I'd like to live here for a year or so. Last night I tried to think of another city that exceeds the Paris for sheer beauty, and I could not.