The Tour de France is in full swing. As I’ve said before, I have no intention of commenting on the race. However, as the exploits that will become tomorrow’s legends and scandals unfold, I think it is important to remember that the roads of France are not the only backdrop for excitement. Countless dramas unfold in every local race as well. Here are just a few examples of beautiful moments of triumph and defeat taking place in our own backyard that rival anything in the Tour:
--6:00am, Prospect Park, Brooklyn. A rider on a $900 wheelset rolls up to the registration area with a $2,000 wheelset strapped to his back. We can only imagine that later today he will put on a suit to go to the grocery store and then change into a tux to do some barbecuing.
--A nine-man team wearing matching kit and riding custom-painted matching bicycles with SRMs discusses tactics as they line up to start in one of the lower category races.
--Lap three. A few riders go off the front. From the rear of the pack a rider just barely hanging on summons his last bit of breath to bravely shout, “Close that gap!” He is then dropped.
--A rider on a carbon-fiber Pinarello risks his fingers to adjust the hockey puck-sized computer sensor on his wavy Onda fork. He is apparently more concerned with closing gaps in his training data than with closing gaps in the actual race. He nearly takes out three other riders but manages not to sacrifice a digit to his bladed Zicral spokes. Reconnected to his life-giving data stream, he resumes not racing.
--On the big-ring “climb” during a lull in the action, a rider inexplicably blows up, sits up, and moves backwards diagonally, nearly taking out half the pack in a 7/10 split.
--A rider with no visible race number adjusts the volume on his iPod.
--The group laps one of the lower-category fields just as they are finishing. The matching nine-man squad has begun their leadout, jettisoning their water bottles in perfect synchronicity. However, as the two fields combine, there is some confusion as to which field should be neutralized. After the race, the protests will continue well into the afternoon. At stake for the lower category riders: pride, fulfillment of sponsorship obligations, and a tin novelty medal on a red, white, and blue nylon ribbon. At stake for the higher category riders: lunch money.
--One lap to go. All places up the road in a breakaway. A rider demands a bottle from his teammate and proceeds to shower himself like the Maillot Jaune on Alpe d’Huez. But the joke is on him. The bottle is filled with Cytomax.
--The guy on the $2,000 wheelset punctures and is out of the race.
--The marshals whose job it is to keep the park road clear have gotten impatient and gone home. A guy on a hybrid gets the scare of his life when 80 riders in lycra suddenly appear around him, screaming at him to “keep right.”
--6:00am, Prospect Park, Brooklyn. A rider on a $900 wheelset rolls up to the registration area with a $2,000 wheelset strapped to his back. We can only imagine that later today he will put on a suit to go to the grocery store and then change into a tux to do some barbecuing.
--A nine-man team wearing matching kit and riding custom-painted matching bicycles with SRMs discusses tactics as they line up to start in one of the lower category races.
--Lap three. A few riders go off the front. From the rear of the pack a rider just barely hanging on summons his last bit of breath to bravely shout, “Close that gap!” He is then dropped.
--A rider on a carbon-fiber Pinarello risks his fingers to adjust the hockey puck-sized computer sensor on his wavy Onda fork. He is apparently more concerned with closing gaps in his training data than with closing gaps in the actual race. He nearly takes out three other riders but manages not to sacrifice a digit to his bladed Zicral spokes. Reconnected to his life-giving data stream, he resumes not racing.
--On the big-ring “climb” during a lull in the action, a rider inexplicably blows up, sits up, and moves backwards diagonally, nearly taking out half the pack in a 7/10 split.
--A rider with no visible race number adjusts the volume on his iPod.
--The group laps one of the lower-category fields just as they are finishing. The matching nine-man squad has begun their leadout, jettisoning their water bottles in perfect synchronicity. However, as the two fields combine, there is some confusion as to which field should be neutralized. After the race, the protests will continue well into the afternoon. At stake for the lower category riders: pride, fulfillment of sponsorship obligations, and a tin novelty medal on a red, white, and blue nylon ribbon. At stake for the higher category riders: lunch money.
--One lap to go. All places up the road in a breakaway. A rider demands a bottle from his teammate and proceeds to shower himself like the Maillot Jaune on Alpe d’Huez. But the joke is on him. The bottle is filled with Cytomax.
--The guy on the $2,000 wheelset punctures and is out of the race.
--The marshals whose job it is to keep the park road clear have gotten impatient and gone home. A guy on a hybrid gets the scare of his life when 80 riders in lycra suddenly appear around him, screaming at him to “keep right.”
--Final lap. Five riders go down in the sprint for 19th place. $5,000 worth of carbon fiber shattered.
