Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Post-Giro 2008: The World I Know

As a board-certified Cougar for Cook, that song (as sung by David) has been in heavy rotation on my iPod, and about fits my mood as I recover from the Giro.

Damn there's nothing like Stanley Cup hockey. The speed, the suspense, the crowd noise - I don't follow hockey now like I used to, but I'm instantly sucked in and now up past my bedtime in triple OT.

Oh yeah, the Giro. I couldn't seem to find the time to post as the race went on. Fortunately, CFA was speaking my mind on a regular basis. Most pointedly in the last paragraph here, on being a cycling fan in this day and age. Amen, brother.

My ambivalence over the GC contenders continues. I was encouraged that they were each having good and bad days, and no one was running away with it, but I hate being reduced to thinking that way. Continuing to let CFA do the heavy lifting, the second paragraph here is as good a last word as any on them.

I resorted to focusing on the Slipstream-Chipotle boys, and delighting in their internal victories. Great finish for Christian Vande Velde and Danny Pate. And I loved seeing Jens Voigt take a stage, I had a hunch he would after seeing his pedals in anger on the insane mountain TT.

Mark Cavendish is still a punk, but I have to give him credit for finishing his first Grand Tour, especially such a grueling one as this. And helping Andre Greipel win a stage, even though it got messy afterwards.

As for Sella and his miracle CSF team, ugh. I was moved by Sella's emotion on his first win; I was moved by him stopping in the middle of the race to hug his Papa. He seems like a very nice guy, and very well may be. But in one of the most grueling grand tours in recent memory, he won three mountain stages and very nearly won two more. He had a consistency that the best riders in the world couldn't match. I really don't know how Phil and Paul call it straight. "Gee, Paul, his winning margin in the green jersey competition is the largest I've ever seen, isn't that lovely." I realize they can't just accuse a guy, but can't you at least acknowledge a few raised eyebrows? Bad for business I suppose, but still, the way they call it, it's like they aren't even suspicious. They're either very good actors or that's just how you have to see things to be a professional commentator.

I can't even escape doping in my guilty pleasure, the steamy love story that is Ollian on German soap Verbotene Liebe. Big conflict as talented boxer Christian is tempted by steroids and boyfriend Olli frets. Is nothing sacred?

Not to harp on P&P, but I dare say I think they're really losing it. Phil fumbles more and more, they both get overly hysterical and try and outdo each other with predictions and action calls, it's getting a bit unseemly. Even the greats have to go sometime, I say bring on Frankie Andreu! Who to pair him with - maybe Paul would work, it would be a new marriage so perhaps the old bad habits wouldn't apply. Bobke might be awkward, what with him being "I have a career because of Lance," and Frankie being "I've lost a number of career opportunities because of Lance." In any case, Frankie's really grown as a commentator, and it would be nice to have someone not invested in the Lance lore for a change.

An undisputed highlight of the weekend is the arrival of baby Waylon Zabriskie - congrats to Dave and Randi, he's beautiful!

No comments: