Month: July 2008

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Dog Geography

Scout, a.k.a. The Dog, is full of surprises, especially when it comes to what we think of as him memory and awareness of where he is when we’re out on walks.

Since he’s a border collie/retriever mix of some kind, our program has been to walk him three or four times every day. But these are not long walks. Most of his world lies within a radius of about a mile and a half of our house. Still, that’s an area of about seven square miles.

When we bipeds traverse an area that size, we notice and remember remarkable or useful features: Peet’s Coffee, the house with the unusual water fountain in the front yard, the parking lot that offers a shortcut, the beautiful tall Norfolk pine.

The Dog has some of the same thing going on. There are certain places on our walks where he loves and expects to stop: outside the chicken coop in the garden at the local middle school and a certain Monterey pine where squirrels are always eating sunflower seeds after a dish on the ground.

How do we know The Dog remembers these places? He stops when we get to the nearest corner and more or less points in the desired direction. The fact he does this after many repetitions doesn’t surprise me.

But here’s something that does: About a month or six weeks ago, we had Scout out for a walk. We got a corner I don’t remember having walked past with him before. He stopped and stared into the yard of the house at the corner. There were a couple of pet rabbits loose out there, and he was transfixed. In fact, we’d still be out there if we hadn’t compelled him to leave after about 10 minutes.

The next day, we approached the corner from a completely different direction; in fact, no part of the path we took repeated the way we had come the day before. But when we got close to the rabbit house, he headed directly for it. OK, maybe not shocking. Still, I was impressed that he made the connection–maybe he smelled the place–when we were coming from a different direction.

We didn’t return to that block for a couple weeks. When I did, we were taking another route that didn’t come closer than about 100 yards to the rabbit place. But as soon as The Dog got to the closest point, he stopped and looked up the street toward his desired destination. Yesterday, needing to take him on a quick walk and wanting to keep him away from the rabbits, I took yet another route, but had the same result. When we got to within a block of the rabbit house, he stopped and pointed for it.

I’m not sure how he’s doing it. But I think it must be a combination of visual and olfactory recognition (though he knows we’re close even when the rabbits are downwind) and some sort of ability to guess the relationship of one location to his target even if he hasn’t walked the precise path before. In other words, he’s using something more than rote memory.

I’m not suggesting The Dog is capable of planning out his own trip itinerary. But en route he’s got the capability of connecting a remote location with where he happens to be and heading there.

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Stage 7: Your Phil Liggett Quote of the Day

Watching the stage winner, Luis-Leon Sanchez of Caisse d’Epargne, on the podium: “It doesn’t look like he’s been anywhere today. I reckon he’s come straight from breakfast right on to the podium. Look at those eyes–sharp as a nut.”

And also: David Millar describing how his bid to break away collapsed: “We just ripped it to pieces that first half of the race, but then unfortunately (Lampre’s Damiano) Cunego crashed and everyone started chasing me and it went a bit … a bit pear shaped.”

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The ‘Last Kilometer’ Rule

When yellow jersey Stefan Schumacher fell near the end of Stage 6 yesterday, the Versus announcers (Liggett and Sherwen) started talking about the special rules that apply for a stage finish. Liggett noted that it looked like Schumacher would fall back in the standings, but that “it depends on how the judges read the last-kilometer rule.” Sherwen responded, “I’ve got a funny feeling, Phil, we may well see they will not apply the kilometer rule on a climb like this, because this is a mountain-top finish.”

The rule–Article 20 in the Tour de France regulations–applies to the last three kilometers of most Tour stages. It is designed to prevent riders from being penalized if they get caught up in the mayhem of a bunch finish (or suffer some other accident) at the end of the race. The rule (in full below) provides that if a rider falls or flats or has his bike break in the last three kilometers, he will be awarded the same time as the group he was in when the problem occurred (the only catch: he need to be able to cross the finish line to be credited that time).

But there are a couple wrinkles. The rule does not apply to individual time trials. And Sherwen was right: the 2008 version of the rules (96-page PDF file in French with English translation) specify that the rule does not apply to the four stages this year (the sixth–yesterday’s– the 10th, 15th, and 17th) that have summit finishes. Article 20 does seem to give some room for interpretation: at one point, it allows for “exceptional cases” to be ruled upon by the Tour’s committee of stewards. But the article also seems to flatly state that it doesn’t apply to the specified stages.

Here’s the English text of the rule:

Article 20

Stage finishes are signalled by a “red flame” (flamme rouge) hanging from the inflatable arch located one kilometre from the finishing line. In the event that the finishing portal is absent, the finish is signalled by a black and white chequered flag waved by a race official.

In the event that a rider or riders suffer a fall, puncture or mechanical incident in the last 3 kilometres and such an incident is duly recognised, the rider or riders involved are credited with the same finishing time of the rider or riders they were with at the time of the incident. The are attributed this ranking only upon crossing the finish line. If after a fall, it is impossible for a rider to cross the finish line, he is given the ranking ranking of last in stage.

For exceptional cases, the decision taken by the stewards committee is final.

This measure does not apply to:

Finishes of the 4th and 20th stages, which are individual time trials.

Summit finishes of the 6th, 10th, 15th, and 17th stages.

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‘For Me It Was Shit’

Gerolsteiner’s Stefan Schumacher tells Versus’s Frankie Andreu the fall he took near the end of yesterday’s stage, taking him out of the yellow jersey:

Andreu: Can you tell me a little bit about what happened? It seemed like some riders kind of got pinched on the right hand side. Do you remember how the touch of the wheels might have happened?

Schumacher: I saw it that the guys of Caisse d’Epargne went to the other side, and what I wanted to do, I was on the wheel of (Columbia’s Kim) Kirchen, for sure I had to watch him, and at this moment I wanted to go left to sprint, to start to sprint, and at this moment he had to brake, and in this moment my body weight was on the left and I couldn’t do anything. I was in the wrong moment, I was in the wrong place, and I’m sure he didn’t make it because he wanted to do that, but for me it was shit.

At least it sure sounded like he said “shit.” The difference between this utterance and Jonathan Vaughters’ f-bomb the other day is that Vaughters was live and Schumacher was on tape. So, who wants to bet that the FCC hears some complaints about the Tour’s raw, raw language?

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Stage 6: Your Phil Liggett Quote of the Day

Today’s quote is a nonquote. As the racers neared the steep climb leading to the stage finish in a place called Super-Besse, two riders were about 15 seconds off the front. One was Christian Vande Velde, an American from Team Garmin-Chipotle, the other a rider from the French team Saunier Duval, Leonardo Piepoli. The last climb began with about 1.5 kilometers to go, and Liggett sung the praises of the American. “This could be a brilliant move by Christian Vande Velde, and it could have hit them at the right time.” Phil explained how the spectators had to walk to the upper reaches of the hill. “And they’re seeing one of only four Americans in the Tour de France turn on the style in the race for the next yellow jersey,” he said.

Meantime, what’s the camera showing the folks at home?

The front of the peloton was surging forward as several of the stage favorites, including the perpetually mispronounced Alejandro Valverde, made their bid for victory. The front of the group swirled past Vande Velde and instantly dropped him.

What did Phil have to say about that?

Well, nothing, actually. He opined that the wearer of the yellow jersey, Germany’s Stefan Schumacher, wasn’t reacting. The TV picture almost instantaneously contradicted him, as you could see the yellow jersey in the bunch surging past the spent Vande Velde. In fact, Phil never mentioned Vande Velde’s name again until a couple minutes after the finish, when he thought he might have recognized him crossing the line. (And in fact, he missed that call, too: Vande Velde had finished just 23 seconds after the stage winner, Riccardo Ricco of Saunier Duval.)

That’s it? That’s all that brilliant move came to?

[Later: Versus’s Paul Sherwen observed after the end of the stage that Piepoli’s attack, made along with Vande Velde, was probably meant to put pressure on the lead group and help Ricco. It wasn’t until Versus’s Robbie Ventura tracked down Vande Velde in the finishing area that Vande Velde explained that his surge, too, was meant to help a teammate: David Millar. But Millar never made a move–a fact that Liggett and Sherwen never remarked–and wound up finishing half a minute behind Vande Velde and 51 seconds behind the winner.

We should give Phil a break here. He’s an entertainer, not a reporter. He’s a fan, not an expert. He manages to convey the excitement of the moment even when he’s not quite sure what’s happening or why. There–we said something nice about him.]

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Stage 5: Your Phil Liggett Quotes of the Day

Play-by-play moment: Phil’s crowning moment in the finish of Stage 5 was to correctly call the winner as the sprinters crossed the line–Mark Cavendish of Team Columbia–then to immediately change his mind: “Cavendish is there! And he’s done it! It’s Ciolek! It’s Ciolek on the line! It wasn’t Cavendish! Gerald Ciolek has taken it.” And there matters stayed for the next minute or so as Phil and Paul Sherwen watched replays: “Well, that was a tremendous finish. Gerald Ciolek is also here to win for himself, as he has now proved. He is also a lead-out man for Mark Cavendish. That was a superb … Look at the man at the back there, the champion of France, desperately, desperately close [after 220 kilometers or so in a breakaway] … and … that looks like Mark Cavendish to me, Paul. Well, I thought he was Cavendish first of all, I reversed to Ciolek, and I’m coming back. Mark Cavendish has won the stage for Great Britain. Absolutely superb, he delivered.”

That wasn’t quite as bad as mistaking which team just scored the deciding touchdown in a football game, but it was close.

Remove the carrots from the fruit basket: [As the peloton closed to within 30 seconds of a three-man break about nine kilometers from the finish of Stage 5] “Any second now the referee will ask for the removal of all vehicles behind those three riders to give them one last chance to hold off the peloton, remove all the carrots from the fruit basket up there, and leave the race to try and chase them down. The riders at the back of course just want to get to Châteauroux and enjoy the shower today.”



Some call them gams: “Somewhere, the champion of France has found some power in those pistons we call legs.”

Tour wedgie: “Nineteen seconds lead, just inside 4 kilometers from the finish, and Team Columbia have got hold of the Tour de France by the scruff of the racing shorts.”

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Phil Lisps; We Investigate

So, the greater re:Cycling community is closing in on the sources of Phil Liggett’s seemingly strange pronunciation of Alejandro Valverde’s first name. When Phil says it, it comes out “Alethandro.” As commenters to the earlier post on this crucial matter remarked, Castilian Spanish does in fact turn some “s” and “z” sounds into “th.” A leading theory, therefore, is that Phil thinks Alejandro is really Alessandro–he does sometimes say “Alessandro Valverde”–and converts the (erroneous) “ss” into “th.”

That habit would account for his turning the middle name of Juan Mauricio Soler into “Mauritheeo,” too.

Maybe. We will stipulate that the matter of pronouncing “cross-language” proper names for broadcast is one fraught with confusion, difficulty, and the clash of inalterably correct opinions. re:Cycling has personal knowledge of a Bay Area radio outlet where editors have decided that the San Joaquin Valley town of Los Banos–LOSS BANN-ose in the local American argot–ought to be pronounced LOHSS BAHN-yohz, a perhaps “authentic” Spanish pronunciation. The only problem comes when you call the city hall or the newspaper in town–both English-speaking institutions–and are universally greeted with the American version of the name. And never mind the fact that the station in question broadcasts not in Spanish but in English. As I said, the subject vibrates with the potential for debate.

So who can say Phil is wrong with his Alethandros and Maurithios?

We can.

First, note that Phil is probably misapplying his ounce of knowledge about native pronunciation in the former case and perhaps in the latter one, too.

Second, note that it’s commonplace to adopt a modified form of foreign names when they’re spoken in another language. So even if Alejandro were pronounced Alethandro in a major dialect of Spanish, it would be more appropriate for an English-language broadcaster to adopt a version that conforms to a standard translation. In English, Alejandro — the j sounding like an h — conforms to such a standard. (Here’s another example, French to English: Say the name of the capital of France. If you’re a native English speaker, we’ll bet you a shrinking U.S. dollar you did not unconsciously say “Pa-ree.”)

Third, note that no one else on the air with him shares his lisping habit with these names. His fellow broadcasters are conforming to the standard.

And fourth, consider one piece of evidence from Spain. We had the idea that maybe the website of the Spanish paper El Pais would have video clips from the Tour in which the names of Valverde and Soler might be pronounced by a real live Spanish person. We were not disappointed. The video clip from Stage 1 features Valverde, and there’s no question about how it’s pronounced: in the non-lisping, non-Phil way. The video clip from Stage 2 mention’s Soler’s crash. The evidence is less clear, but give it a listen. To our impaired American ears, it sounds like the voiceover says Maurishio or Mauricio, but definitely not Mauritheeo.

With that, we certainly hope the matter can be put to rest. Alas, we know Phil won’t let it be.

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Stage 4: Your Phil Liggett Quote of the Day

Phil on watching the Stage 4 time trial: This is the one day you don’t want to be out on the road, you want to be behind your television screen because we can explain everything.

–Versus also explained that the length of today’s stage, 29 kilometers, is equivalent to the distance from Mesquite, Texas, to Dallas. Oh, yeah–that helps!

–Versus’s chirpy Robbie Ventura rode along with Garmin-Chipotle team director Jonathan Vaughters to watch the ride of David Millar. After Millar went through the second time check 14 seconds behind the leader. Ventura asked, “Jonathan, how’s this going for ya?” Vaughters let out a long breath and replied, “Fuck, man.” As Vaughters urged Millar on, Ventura reported, “You can feel the excitement in this car.”

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