Introduction
I know
nobody follows the Vuelta a España. It’s
not nearly as prestigious as the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia, and it comes
during football season when even the most diehard cycling fan is glued to ...
wait, what am I saying? It’s impossible
to be both a cycling and football fan.
Anyway,
since you can’t be bothered to wake up at 6 a.m. on a Saturday (except to ride),
and no major cable network carries this virtually unknown race, I’m doing you
the service of fighting with messy Internet feeds to get some live coverage so
I can give you a blow-by-report that differs from, say, the cyclingnews one in
a couple of major ways. First of all, I
get into much more detail about what the racers are thinking, where they get
their hair done, etc. Two, I spell
everything correctly. Three, I don’t
have to bite my tongue when (right or wrong) I don’t like something a rider is
doing (e.g., doping, being inelegant, having a funny name) and so I pretty much
tell the whole story. The real
story. The as-I-see-it story. Sometimes an unrelated story here or there. So here you go.
Stage 20 – 2014 Vuelta a España
It’s a great
stage today. Arguably the hardest of the
whole Vuelta, with certainly the most brutal mountaintop finish. Here’s the profile.
My Internet
feed absolutely sucks. It’s going about
as fast as Cadel Evans in this Vuelta.
It’s more of a slide show, really.
As I join
the action, the riders have got 47 km to go.
There’s a breakaway of four guys:
Wout Poels (Omega Pharma-Quick Step), Maxime Mederel (Team Europcar),
Przemyslaw Niemiec (Lampre-Merida), and Jerome Coppel (Cofidis). Wout’s manager is surely yelling “Wout, Wout,
Wout!” through the radio. Przemyslaw’s
manager just calls him “Slaw,” and in fact nobody on the team can pronounce
this guy’s name. His parents can’t even
pronounce it. It doesn’t matter, though,
because none of these names will become a household word because the gap is
down to under five minutes and there are still two huge climbs to come: the Category 1 Alto de Folgueiras de Aigas
(Climb of the Folgers Crystals) and the Beyond Category Puerto de Ancares (Port
of Apathy).
I’m on some
Spanish site. I knew I should have
studied that language! There’s a chat
window alongside the video feed and the astute comments I see are “Vai!!! Vai!!!
Vai!!! Froome!!! :-)” and “aru!!!” So it’s
nice to see Americans don’t have a monopoly on lameness when it comes to the
amateur pundit game.
My online
correspondent is having no luck with his Internet feed either. Maybe the hacking group, Anonymous, is behind
this: shutting down certain video
streaming websites to protest the jocks that used to pick on them in junior
high gym class.
So, while I’m
waiting for Eurosport announcer (and former champion) Sean Kelly to finish the
sentence he started 30 seconds ago (before my feed froze again), here’s what’s happened so far in this
Vuelta (since I know you haven’t been paying any attention because it’s only
the Vuelta). The Colombian favorites are
out (Rigoberto Uran Uran and Nairo Quintana).
Quintana crashed in the time trial while leading the race, which is a
shame. And Uran Uran is too young to
understand why older guys call him “Duran Duran,” which is also a shame. Plus he got sick and dropped out.
It’s 27 km
to go and I’ve missed most of the last 20 km but I have a solid feed now. The gap from the break to the peloton is down
to 1:25. The leaders are still on the
penultimate climb.
So back to
the recap: the American hopeful, Andrew
Talansky (Garmin Sharp) is way down in 56th place. My favorite rider, Cadel Evans, is doing
scarcely better, in 46th. The defending
champion, Chris Horner, didn’t get to start the race because his team decided
he was just too damn old and with these new “elder abuse” laws on the books,
they couldn’t afford to take the risk.
Well, I guess that’s not exactly what’s going on. They decided his cortisol levels were too low
so he wasn’t healthy enough to ride.
This is in keeping with the MPCC (Mouvement Pour un Cyclisme Credible)
which Horner’s team, Lampre-Merida, is voluntarily participating in. Team Sky, meanwhile, doesn’t participate in
MPCC because, according to their spokesman, “We don’t need to be a part of that
program because we asked our guys if they doped and they clearly said no, and
they would never lie.”
Speaking of Team Sky, I see that their domestique Vasil Karienka (who is
wearing “the horse face” according to Kelly, whatever that means) is at the
front of the Sky train hammering the pace at the front as they’ve been doing
all day and for the last few weeks.
So, getting
back to the status of the race overall.
Alberto Contador (Tinkoff-Saxo) is leading the GC by 1:19 over Chris
Froome (Team Sky). Froomie had a lousy
time trial, which puts his pharmacist in a really tough spot, but Froomie has
lately been riding better so he might well try something on the brutal Puerto
de Ancares, which is 13 km (8 miles) at 8.7%, with pitches of 18%.
Contador
crests the final summit of the sawblade Alto de Folgueiras de Aigas in first
place, perhaps to send Froome a message but more likely because his mom is
watching the stage today but will miss the finish due to a hair appointment.
So, this stage may be the final battle of this Vuelta because tomorrow’s time trial is really,
really short. The GC contest is really
between Contador and Froomestrong, because the perennial Spanish stage-race
also-rans, Alejandro Valverde (Movistar Team) and Joaquim Rodriguez (Team
Katusha), are no better than they ever are.
I think those two always vie for the final podium spot but get no higher
than that, which is fine with me. Valverde
is a known doper, and Rodriguez has this thing where his upper lip gets pushed
up way above his teeth, which combined with his overbite is aesthetically
unsightly. I know I should be kinder
than that, especially since the poor guy has to put up with everybody spelling
his name wrong all the time (i.e., Joaquin, as cyclingnews spells it) and he deserves
better. But that’s just how I roll.
The gap is
down to 48 seconds between the doomed breakaway and the peloton. They’re on the final descent before that
brutal finishing climb.
The other
big thing you have to know about this race is that a few days ago, a couple of
the racers got in a fistfight, while riding!
It was awesome ... everybody else in the pack started chanting “Fight! Fight!
Fight!” just like in junior high.
No, of course I made that part up, but the fistfight was real. You can see here a video of Gianluca
Brambilla (Omega Pharma-Quick Step) being told by the race officials, who are yelling
at him from their car, that he’s out of the race. (Footage of the actual fight starts about a
minute into the video). You should check it out ... it’s something
to see. Brambilla keeps gesticulating, as angry
Italians often do, and then sitting up and riding no-handed. I guess he figured “That’ll show ‘em!” and I
can only hope he doesn’t do that when he’s riding in traffic and some car cuts
him off. That could be dangerous.
So, were Brambilla and his foe, Russia’s Ivan Ronvy (Tinkoff-Saxo) ejected due to unsporting behavior? No, it’s a bit more complicated than that. The director of the race simply felt that their fight was disgraceful because they were such pansies about it. And I have to agree. They punch like little girls would if little girls threw punches. I’ll bet any boxer could do a better job climbing the Puerto de Ancares than these guys did duking it out. So needless to say, neither rider was given the day’s Combativity award.
It’s not the
first time poor fighting skills have gotten people into trouble. I got in a fight in my junior high gym class
and landed what I thought was a pretty good punch. It made the other guy’s mouth bleed, which I
kind of felt bad about and kind of felt great about. So then the guy started screaming and trying
to kick me, and I dragged him over to the gym teacher. To my amazement, the teacher—a war veteran,
it was said—yelled at me: “I saw the whole thing! What is this—you land one good punch and then
you come to me for help? You don’t just hit a guy once! You hit him again and again!” I was
bewildered. Was this some
reverse-psychology thing? Anyway, I didn’t
actually get in trouble, but having a crazy war veteran yell at you is
overrated, as life experiences go.
The break is
down to 17 seconds. Sky is absolutely
drilling it on the front. It’s nothing
but black jerseys and they’re taking the field apart. Froome is sitting in third. He’s easy to make out because his elbows
stick out to the sides. It’s really
awful to look at. The Eurosport
announcer, Carleton I think he’s called, said the other day, “Froome is not
flicking his elbow out to ask Contador to help ... his elbows always stick out.”
Is Sky
setting the stage for an awesome come-from-behind GC victory for their
man? Could be. Brailsford, the Sky team manager, said
yesterday, “I think Froome can still win this Vuelta.” But Brailsford also said, back in July, “It’s
best not to put Bradley Wiggins in the Tour,” and said a couple years ago, “Blackberry
doesn’t need to do a touch-screen ... the iPhone is a flash in the pan.”
Wow, Anna is
calling me! And she has pretty big
hooters! How do I close this pop-up
without accepting the call? I can’t
handle that kind of distraction!
Man, this
grade is brutal, and the road surface is medieval. Rodriguez makes an attack! It’s a pretty good one, too. There’s 9K to go.
The lead
group is really small now, like eight guys.
J-Rod, or “J-Wad” as he’s unaffectionately known in some circles, is
still looking quite strong. My online
correspondent says of him, “He’s like an untrained porn star,” by which I think
he means that J-Rod often attacks too early and blows his wad long before he’s
supposed to.
Froomie is
drilling it on the front with Bertie right on his wheel, out of the saddle,
doing that slightly duck-footed lazy mongoose sway he’s so fond of (and which
seems so effective).
J-Rod is
bobbing a bit, but looking pretty solid, and he’s not doing the white man’s
overbite yet. Maybe today is finally his
day.
To Contador’s
credit, he isn’t wearing red shorts to match his red leader’s jersey. His gloves and shoes are the same yellow his
teammates get. For that reason, and
because his elbows don’t stick out, I’m hoping he’ll keep the lead today even
if he is a filthy doping scoundrel.
It’s 17
seconds between J-Wad and the GC group.
Valverde is off the back. Anna is
calling again. Fabio Aru (Astana Pro
Team) is clinging for dear life.
J-Rod is only 2:29 behind Contador in the GC, but they can give him a bit of leash. Contador has been doing this a lot: letting, for example, Froomie go on ahead so that Valverde and Rodriguez have to chase while he, the accountant, sits on. I’d have to say, those two podium hopefuls have done a lot more to help Contador than his Tinkoff-Saxo team has.
J-Rod is only 2:29 behind Contador in the GC, but they can give him a bit of leash. Contador has been doing this a lot: letting, for example, Froomie go on ahead so that Valverde and Rodriguez have to chase while he, the accountant, sits on. I’d have to say, those two podium hopefuls have done a lot more to help Contador than his Tinkoff-Saxo team has.
Wow, J-Rod
is making it happen ... his lead is now 26 seconds. There are time bonuses in this race,
too. Maybe he’s hoping Froome and/or
Contador will blow up trying to close the gap.
Aru is just
barely hanging on to the others. Froome starts totally hammering on
the front! Whoah, Valverde is totally getting dropped! It’s unbelievable how quickly
he’s going backward. Froome is going
incredibly fast, and looking really awful with his long, skeletal arms out
ahead of him like a zombie’s.
It’s 5.9 km to go and my feed has evaporated, straight up vacated. Dang it!
I’ve hit refresh but all that’s done is get Anna calling again. Okay, now I can at least hear again and
eventually can close these pop-ups.
The next
kilometer averages 13%. In case you have
no idea what that means, it’s just really, really steep. Probably twice as steep as that awful climb
between your house and the video store.
Froome and
Contador have caught J-Rod. Froome sits
up and rides no-handed while he futzes with his sunglasses or something, and
has now stepped up the pace. I guess he’s
trying to psych out Contador.
Man, this
grade is nuts! It’s 14%! Froome looks solid though he’s bobble-heading
a bit. Contador looks a bit tired, but I
mean, duh! He’s been racing for three
weeks! He’s wagging his jaw, but
then he always does that. Probably does
that at the dinner table. Froome’s neck
must be tired as he keeps staring at the ground and then looking up, again and
again. Maybe he’s trying to burp.
It’s 4.4 km
to go. Camera switches back to Aru to
show how he’s all alone and just suffering away. Aru punched Froomie’s ticket at the end of a
recent stage and took the win, so he can’t be too bummed now. So the top five on the GC are the top five on
the road at the moment.
J-Wad is
dropped! Did I call it, or what?
Froome is so
gaunt, he’s at real risk of having his jawbone slice through his flesh. It can’t be comfortable having less than 1%
body fat. I mean, how does he even sleep
at night? And how does he shave? What does he even eat ... rice cakes? He’s a mystery, this guy, or maybe a space
alien.
It’s just
Froomeboy and Bertie on the front now, about 3 km to go. I’m starting to think this is a stalemate,
unless the race officials command them to ride no-handed from here on out just
to make it more interesting. Wouldn’t
that be great, if race officials could issue such commands, like the DJ at the
roller rink who would sometimes say, “Now, skaters, turn around and skate the
other way!” or “Everybody skate backwards!”
Carleton
says, “The road is only 2% now, that’s nothing, but soon it kicks up rather
rudely!” I love these British
announcers, in a strange way. No, not that way. I mean I love what they say. Or more precisely, I don’t love what they say
but I like listening to them say it.
Valverde is
suddenly bearing down on these guys with a quickness.
Froome is
frowning, as if thinking, “I don’t like this at all! I don’t like Contador and I don’t like this
climb and I don’t like this sport! But
it pays better than being an extra in a zombie movie, which was my only other
offer, so I guess I’ll continue on.”
My daughter Alexa has pointed out that Froome’s jersey sleeve says “FROOMEY” on it. Are you kidding me?!
Now he’s out of the saddle and his elbows are sticking out farther than ever ... it’s really ghastly. But it’s no good, Contador cannot be dropped. So all Froome is achieving is to help Contador pad his lead over the other Spaniards.
Contador will probably make a huge effort at the very end—the first time he’ll face the wind all day—to get the bonus seconds, since you can never have a big enough lead facing the final time trial.
Now he’s out of the saddle and his elbows are sticking out farther than ever ... it’s really ghastly. But it’s no good, Contador cannot be dropped. So all Froome is achieving is to help Contador pad his lead over the other Spaniards.
Contador will probably make a huge effort at the very end—the first time he’ll face the wind all day—to get the bonus seconds, since you can never have a big enough lead facing the final time trial.
Wow, there
he goes! Contador has attacked. He’s grimacing and just
absolutely killing it. He really
has the edge. He’s got that George Mount
grin (and if you don’t know who George Mount is, don’t sweat it—he’s even older
than Duran Duran). Dang, Contador is
really pulling away. I can just see the
slight scarecrow figure of Froomie, in his cadaverous black kit, back in the
distance. Man, this finale is
super-steep and Contador knows what the hell he’s doing.
I just hope that, when the time comes, he won’t do that pistolero victory salute where he mimes shooting a
handgun. This guy’s upper body is so spindly, he couldn’t take the recoil of a cap gun.
He’s got the
win! And he actually put both hands up
in the air, like a proper winner! What a
pleasant surprise!
Froome
staggers in a bit later ... 16 seconds the final gap.
Valverde
crosses the line almost a minute down.
And here comes J-Wad, upper lip stuck way the hell up there, totally
bummed. The rest of the peloton will
come over in dribs and drabs over the next couple hours.
“I’m not
suggesting he’s yodeling,” Carleton says of Contador. Does this Eurosport announcing gig have a
two-drink minimum or something?
The big
loser of the day is Irishman Dan Martin (Garmin Sharp) who lost over 3 minutes, slipping from 6th to 7th overall.
He remains the only English speaker in the top 10.
And Contador
gets his penultimate red jersey and a kiss from the podium girls. I hope these women get hazard pay, having to
kiss a sweaty cyclist every day.
Well, that
about wraps it up ... this stage, my coverage, and the overall race since
tomorrow’s time trial is only 10 km in length.
Nothing more to see here, move along, move along ... go mow the lawn or
something ... make yourself useful.
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