Author: Dan Brekke

Posted on

‘Only an Idiot’

From “Lance Armstrong’s War,” by Daniel Coyle (p. 109):

“Doping wasn’t illegal in the early days, and cyclists experimented freely with strychine, cocaine, ether and, after World War II, with amphetamines, which had been mass-produced to keep soldiers and pilots awake. … On French television after he retired, Tour champion Fausto Coppii said all riders took drugs, and anyone who claimed differently knew nothing of the sport. The interviewer asked if Coppi had used them. ‘Yes, when it was necessary,’ he replied. And when was it necessary? ‘Almost always.’

‘Jacques Anquetil, who won the Tour five times, was frank on the subject. On a bet, Anquetil once rode the Grand Prix de Forli time trial without amphetamines, just to see what would happen. He won, but rode more slowly and suffered greatly. ‘Never again,’ Anquetil swore as he got off the bike. He later said, ‘Only an idiot thinks that a professional cyclist who rides 235 days a year can hold himself together without stimulants.’

Technorati Tags: ,

Posted on

One Clean Rider

This morning, a friend sent me a link to a column in Sunday’s New York Times that compared the physical demand of the Tour de France on cyclists with the stresses that elite marathon runners endure. Which is tougher? There’s no way to tell, the article suggests, because the events are fundamentally different in what they demand of the body; the lone certainty is that both events require extraordinary athletic talent and training. I noted that the picture that accompanied the Times piece was of Alexander Vinokourov, the Kazakh cyclist; you couldn’t see his face, but he was identifiable from his team “kit” — its uniform — and rider number in this year’s Tour — 191.

A little while later, another friend emailed me with a news flash he’d just seen: Vinokourov was out of the Tour, along with the rest of his team, after he had tested positive for receiving an illegal blood transfusion.

Vinokourov has been in the news a lot this Tour: A favorite at the start of the race, he was injured in a crash early on and persevered through severe pain. Last Saturday, he won an individual time trial, which suddenly put him close to the contenders again (as the stage winner, he was required to take the blood test that reportedly turned up evidence of cheating). On Sunday, he suffered a total collapse during a very hard day of racing in the Pyrenees and finished a calamitous half an hour behind the leaders. On Monday, he came back, winning another tough Pyrenees stage (the spectacle of a rout followed immediately by triumph was reminiscent of Floyd Landis’s unprecedented defeat and resurgence in back-to-back stages last year; soon after, a blood test suggested Landis had been doping, too).

Vinokourov was — the past tense is all you can use — no ordinary cyclist. Beyond the talent necessary to make him competitive with the world’s best, he had a frightening willingness to attack at any moment, no matter the apparent odds of success or physical cost to himself. He finished third in the Tour in 2003; his ferocity stage after stage kept the eventual winner, Lance Armstrong, on the defensive most of the race. Another rider, David Millar, reportedly wept when he heard today’s news about Vinokourov and called him “one of the most beautiful riders in the peloton.”

Millar’s got a special perspective. A spectacularly talented rider himself, he won the world time-trial championship before police caught him with EPO, a substance that enhances the blood’s ability to carry oxygen. Millar never had a positive doping test in his entire career, but confessed he had used the banned drug after he was confronted with the evidence. He was banned from racing for two years and came back for last year’s Tour; he is now one of the loudest voices against doping in cycling, but he was crushed today.

Velonews reported his reaction:

David Millar was the first rider to react to the news: “Jesus Christ – there you go, that’s my quote,’ he blurted out. ‘What timing, huh? This is just fucking great. … It makes me very sad. Vino is one of my favorite riders. He’s one of the most beautiful riders in the peloton. If a guy of his stature and class has done that, we all might as well pack our bags and go home right now. ‘

“…Millar broke down into tears when he was asked by British journalist Jeremy Whittle if he was all right, saying, ‘I just feel like crying right now.’ ”

After the news broke, the Tour de France organizers held a press conference. They decried the doping, of course. But they said that the race will go on to its conclusion in Paris next Sunday no matter what. Otherwise, the dopers would win. It’s a nice line, but a little hollow. During the same session with reporters, the Tour people also said the current yellow jersey, Michael Rasmussen, would not have been allowed to race had they known of his recent violation of dope-testing rules (he failed to apprise anti-doping officials of his whereabouts and missed several random tests).

The problem the Tour and all of bicycle racing has — and it’s one that extends to other sports, too — is that it’s no longer possible to believe the competitors are clean. (Well, with one exception: Seeing what David Millar has gone through in his career, he’s one guy I’d bet is riding the Tour clean. I wouldn’t put my money on anyone else, though.) It’s hard to really engage with what looks like a stirring athletic performance if you’re wondering in the back of your mind whether the fix is in. Too bad — though I’ll still be watching the race tomorrow.

Technorati Tags: , , , ,

Posted on

Nose of a Champion

Key moment from today’s Tour de France stage, as described by Versus announcer Phil Liggett, MBE:

“A bit of a runny nose for the yellow jersey.

Or was it sweat?

But he hasn’t put a wheel wrong yet today.

And I’m sure that he’s going to try to hurt these boys on the climb.”

The yellow jersey, Michael “Cow’s Blood” Rasmussen, did hurt all but one of the boys on the climb. Discovery Channel’s Alberto Contador easily won a short sprint-ette to cross the line ahead of the Dane. But Rasmussen and Contador had long before left the rest of the contenders struggling up the mountain behind them, so Rasmussen’s second-place finish was a huge victory.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Posted on

The Running of the Bikes

No big crashes in the Tour’s twelfth stage today, which, if you’re keeping score at home, ended with a sprint finish taken by the points leader, Tom Boonen of Belgium.

No wipeouts: apparently that’s exactly the opposite of what Versus, the network televising the Tour in the United States, wants to see. That’s because Versus, in an effort to position itself as the premier purveyor of knucklehead blood sports, is promoting bicycle racing as part of its package of violent, dangerous, jackass programming. The Versus ad campaign is “Red White Black and Blue Summer” (trailer here), and lumps in bicycling along with cage fighting (scary tattooed guys beating the tar out of each other) and bull riding (nothing crushes your spleen like a half-ton of angry beef on the hoof). Oddly, some versions of the Versus promotion also include yacht racing as one of its “pain is good” offerings. Just to make it clear that Versus is advertising cycling as a NASCAR-like crash fest, its daily Tour coverage now offers a daily recap of the top five crashes in this year’s race.

On a couple levels, “Red White Black and Blue” is dumb and disturbing. Dumb because no matter how you dress it up, and now matter how many big bike pileups you get on camera, you’re not going to suck in the same audience that’s turned on by the intimate orgy of violence exhibited in cage fighting or the stomping mayhem seen in the bull-riding arena. Just not going to do it. There’s no doubt that a crash in a bicycle race can be electrifying; but to really be excited and alarmed by it, you have to be one of the bike geeks who finds it fascinating to watch Men in Lycra for hours and hours on end. Most bike crashes happen fast and with little drama and the cameras are hardly ever in the right place to get a close-up view of the action unfolding. The crashes that are replayed and replayed again and again are the exceptions.

So that’s the dumb part. The disturbing part: What’s going on with us that so much entertainment, especially for younger guys, centers on such stupid and unrestrained violence; that so much of this entertainment tries to find an audience by selling the promise of seeing someone carted off to the intensive care unit?

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Posted on

Big Continent

Today’s Tour de France stage, the 11th, was a relatively flat, windy one with a sprint finish. The final kilometer included several sharp bends — especially considering the predictable fact the sprinters would be winding up for their charge to the line — and naturally there was a crash. One of those who fell after rounding a curve and veering into the left-hand crowd barrier was Freddie Rodriguez, an accomplished Colombian racer who lives right here in the East Bay rider. He might also be known as Falling Freddie, because he seems to have a penchant for hitting the pavement hard.

So there was a crash, and one of the riders swept out of contention for the stage win was Tom Boonen, the leader of the Tour’s sprint points competition. Among those still upright and rolling fast was Robbie Hunter, a South African and leader of the Team Barloworld, sponsored by a Johannesburg-based industrial conglomerate. Hunter, who just missed taking the fourth stage, launched early and captured a relatively easy win. The victory inspired Versus television’s Phil Liggett (MBE) to note the historic dimensions of the occasion:

“A South African becomes the first African from that big continent to win a stage of the Tour de France.”

Which, among other things, made me think about the continents that have not produced stage winners: Asia and Antarctica. In fact, I don’t recall ever seeing an Asian rider in the race (if the Chinese get interested, watch out). And Antarctic natives such as krill and penguins have not yet been admitted to the pro cycling ranks.

Technorati Tags: ,

Posted on

Lost Pet

Lostkitty071707A

Berkeley’s full of lost pet posters, mostly homemade jobs stapled to telephone poles. A year or two ago, a family that had recently moved to the neighborhood hired a pet detective agency to post very professional flyers calling attention to their missing cat, Gracie. The posters offered a large reward. Several weeks after the announcements appeared on 15 or 20 blocks near us, a house nearby had a handwritten note posted on a gate: Gracie had turned up at a house nearby and had been returned home. That instance sticks out, but for the most part, you stop noticing the flyers or paying much attention to them.

This one’s different. Kate called my attention to it. It’s lost pet announcement as social and environmental commentary (I think I mentioned recently that Berkeley seems to be teeming with wildlife). Entertaining.

[The text: Our tiny, precious kitty, Tinkerbell, is LOST. Can you help us find her? She purrs, chirps, eats kitty grass, loves to be stroked, and if she really likes you, she will sit in your lap — all 120 pounds of her (she’s SUCH a tiny kitty). She has been with us ever since the bambi dears started overpopulating. warbuddy@earthlink.net]

Technorati Tags:

Posted on

Like a Spider, Like an Angel

Oholycow

The found poetry — I didn’t say good poetry — in today’s Tour de France Stage 9 race call by Phil Liggett. Someone has actually put together a book of Liggett found poetry, but I think the genre was actually created with the publication of “O Holy Cow,” a book that captures some of the Homer-meets-James Joyce flights of Yankee Hall of Fame shortstop and former broadcaster Phil Rizzuto. But that’s baseball. Let’s get back to the bicycle race.

The recap: It was a tough mountain stage, the last day in the Alps for this year’s tour. A five-man breakaway, driven largely by Discovery’s Yaroslav Popovych, led over the early climbs and stayed a couple minutes ahead of the group including yellow jersey Michael Rasmussen heading onto the lower slopes of the Col du Galibier, a brutal 18-kilometer climb that tops out at about 8,000 feet above sea level. Between the leaders and the Rasmussen group was a single rider, Mauricio Soler, of Colombia. If you heard of him before today, you’re either his mother or father, his coach, or you’ve read the Tour de France guidebook cover to cover. Soler — Liggett lisps his first name, More-RITH-ee-oh — caught the breakaways on the 8 or 9 percent slope of the Galibier and blew by them. Only Popovych and his teammate, Alberto Contador, were able to respond, but Soler shot across the pass more than a minute ahead of them. He stayed away all the way to the end, a beautiful solo effort that concluded with a sharp climb on the race’s final kilometer.

Now, let’s turn it over to Phil:

As Soler caught the breakaway: “These guys must be saying, ‘Who is this man with the long, thin legs?’ ”

As Soler pulled away from Popovych: “Look at this boy now! He’s itching to get on with the race and he’s only 24 years of age.”

As Soler neared the top of the col: “He climbs like a spider, but he also climbs like an angel as he races up this climb.”

As Soler neared the final descent and climb in the finishing town: “These are desperate moments. We are into Briançon. It is dangerous now. These corners duck and dive and they switch back; they descend very steeply, and then it’s a horrible sight when they come ’round a corner and the road just goes up to the heavens to the finishing line.”

Technorati Tags: ,

Posted on

Gone Riding

My apologies to you noble few who visit every once in a while for my neglect the past few days. Explanation: I was out riding my bike over the weekend and absorbed in planning for that when I wasn’t actually in the saddle.

The brief details: Two days, 317 miles. From Berkeley, on the bay shore, to Chico, on the eastern edge of the upper Sacramento Valley; and then from Chico to Davis to catch a train home. It was hot — temperatures mostly 95 or a little below but up to 98 at a couple points and with plenty of extra heat coming off the roads. Rode with my friend Bruce and another Paris-Brest-Paris-bound cyclist, Keith, and Kate met us a couple times along the way Saturday to make sure we weren’t suffering from anything more serious than cycling-related dementia. Saw an abundance of big, striking birds as we rode past the rice fields planted along the general course of the Sacramento: great egrets, snowy egrets, great blue herons, hawks of all descriptions, a (possible) juvenile bald eagle and a new one for me, the black-necked stilt.

More later. Really!

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Posted on

‘Beauty and Cruelty’

If Thursday’s Tour de France stage is remembered after this year’s race is over, it will be recalled as the day the great Kazakh rider Alexandre Vinokourov crashed hard and lost his chance to win the yellow jersey. All we know for now, though, is that he crashed; whether he’s able to get on his bike and mount the sort of reckless, slashing attacks he’s known for remains to be seen.

It’s always interesting to see how Tour television covers crashes, which are as much a staple of the Tour as they are of the NASCAR experience. With notable exceptions, the on-the-road cameras, carried by photographers on the back of motorcycles, are rarely present when a crash occurs. But they’re always there for the immediate aftermath: a rider sprawled on the road, on a traffic island, or in a ditch, tangled up in his bicycle or thrown across the road from it. How he got that way is almost always a mystery. And so it was today with Vinokourov: When the camera caught up to him, he was already on his feet; a teammate was pulling his bicycle from the center of the road; and Vino, as he’s familiarly known, was in obvious pain. He’d hit hard on his right side; his shorts were shredded, exposing an expanse of raw, abraded buttock.

Still: He had 26 kilometers to go to the finish line. He’s the leader of his team, Astana (Astana is the capital of Kazakhstan and actually sponsors the team) and until the moment he hit the pavement he was considered one of the riders with a better than even chance of winning the 2007 Tour. So there was nothing for him to do but get on his bike and try to catch up to the main field, which had sped into the distance as he stood by the side of the road.

His team manager ordered all the nearby Astana riders — six of the eight members, not including Vinokourov — to stop and form a chase group for their leader. In short, their job was to ride in front of him, as hard and as long as they could, to try to get him close to the stage leaders. Today was a tough stage, and soon the Astana squad started to overtake riders who had already been dropped. One, a sprinter for Robbie McEwen’s Lotto team, appeared not to believe his luck as the Vinokourov rescue team passed him. He sped up and got on Vinokourov’s wheel to get a free ride as far as he could. The pace was so high that soon the Astana domestiques, the riders whose job it is to sacrifice their own chances for the team leader, began to fall away. In just a few kilometers, Vinokourov was riding all by himself. Eventually, he caught and passed a group long discarded by the lead bunch; the exhausted riders, who included sprint leader Tom Boonen of Belgium, fell in behind their bruised and bloody opponent and let him set the pace up the day’s last climb.

It was a stirring charge, and a courageous one. Most people — people who think of bicycles as a form of recreation and who have something like normal thresholds for unbearable pain — would have been in the emergency room. In the end, though, Vinokourov couldn’t catch up; he lost more than a minute to his rivals, and did, in fact, wind up in the hospital. He’s a tough guy — it would be a shock if he isn’t at the starting line tomorrow.

Astana’s team manager summed up the situation after the stage simply and eloquently:

“We gave [Vinokourov] six riders and they did an extraordinary job and went full-gas for kilometers to try to bring him back. Then Vino’ was left on his own. What do you want me to say? It’s the beauty and cruelty of this sport. We must not overdramatize the situation. If we don’t win the Tour – there’s 2008. We haven’t given up hope … if Vino’ is in good health and he wants to win the Tour, we have no choice but to attack.”

Technorati Tags:

Posted on

The Sprint Finish

Today’s Liggett/Sherwen call of the final 1,000 meters of today’s fourth stage in the Tour de France:

Liggett: Here comes the run by [team] Lampre now! As they try to bring Napolitano through! This is the first big sprint at the Tour and it is a free-for-all!

Sherwen: Julian Dean is there in the black and white and you can be certain that right on his wheel will be Thor Hushovd, one thousand meters to go, there is the flamme rouge, Quick Step [team] have got control now, they’re on the front but where is Tom Boonen? He’s not on the wheel of his teammates, there’s a line of [team] Milram, they’re looking after Zabel, there’s a lot of pink jerseys in there for T-Mobile, there’s a little bit of a switch, they’re going to start lining up for the finish line, they’re looking now at about 550 meters to go, Gerolsteiner [team] pulls off, still Quick Step in control. …

Liggett: Well, watch out for this little switch at 250 meters, it might disrupt the move here now, and still Robbie McEwen has not got through. I can see Robbie Hunter trying to get through, but they’re still not going to make a big sprint. And Julian Dean’s on the front now! Dean has found his man Thor Hushovd! Dean the champion of New Zealand! Hunter coming on Dean’s wheel! Hushovd opens the sprint in the center now! Förster trying to get through on the right here as now Thor Hushovd hits the line at last.

Sherwen: Thor Hushovd was perfectly set up for the win by Julian Dean, I just saw the black and white jersey, the Kiwi national champion was right in the right place, he sacrificed himself completely. You need a sprinter to lead out a sprinter. Big Thor has not been superb over the last couple of days but at the end of the day when you’re set up like that by Julian Dean you have to say thanks very much, mate, and you have to finish it off.

Comment: My reaction to these guys’ work usually ranges from mild annoyance to outright disgust — yeah, I ought to just chill; this is just a bike race on TV — but I’ll say something nice here. The end of a sprint stage is beyond hectic. The racers accelerate from 35 to 45 mph, there’s a mass of bodies flying around, and everyone’s madly jockeying for position. What impressed me here is that Sherwen picked Julian Dean out of the crowd a kilometer before the finish line; he knows the players well enough that he correctly predicted that Thor Hushovd would be on Dean’s wheel. That turned out to be the crucial moment in the sprint. To exit slack-cutting mode, though: Both Sherwen and Liggett missed the real drama of the last 100 meters, when Hunter, the South African sprinter, jumped from Dean’s wheel to Hushovd’s in a desperate attempt for the stage win. He timed his finishing charge about a half-second too late and lost by half a wheel. Hunter crossed the line shaking his head and fist in frustration.

Anyway: The point is that the Versus Boys do this part of the race pretty well. Things are moving at light speed compared to the normal baseball, football, or soccer game, and somehow they manage to keep up with it.

Technorati Tags: