Sunday, July 14, 2024

Biased Blow-By-Blow: 2024 Tour de France Stage 15

Introduction

As you should know already from my last post, this year’s Tour de France has been pretty exciting. Two weeks in, the GC is still fairly tight. Today I provide my no-holds-barred, biased and barbed blow-by-blow report of what they’re saying is this year’s hardest stage.


Tour de France Stage 15 – Loudenvielle to Plateau de Beille

As I join the action, the riders are on the Col d’Agnes, a Category 1 climb, and about 40 miles from the finish. There’s a breakaway that has broken up a bit such that we’ve got three riders in the lead, a couple of chasers 39 seconds behind them, a couple more 32 seconds behind that, and then the GC group at 3:45. The GC group is down to 20 riders, and now I have to step away because my cat has just done something indescribably stinky in her cat box.

Okay, I’m back. The leaders are Laurens De Plus (Ineos Granadiers), Enric Mas (Movistar Team), and Jai Hindley (Red Bull – Bora Hansgrohe). “Laurens de Plus is a deceptively good rider,” the commentator Phil Liggett declares. So … what does that mean exactly? He’s good, but nobody can tell? He’s good but you can’t trust him? It’s a mystery.

The Olympic road race champion Richard Carapaz (EF Education-EasyPost) was in the original breakaway but missed the attack of the three leaders and is now chasing. Back in the GC group, Visma-Lease a Bike has only two riders supporting Jonas Vingegaard, their star rider who sits a couple minutes behind the maillot jaune, Tadej Pogacar (UAE Team Emirates), in the GC.

And now Carapaz has caught the leaders with 62 kilometers (about 38 miles) left in the race.


I’m watching the race on Peacock, and earlier they showed footage of one of their commentators sitting in an inflatable baby pool with several drunken Frenchmen. It was so corny, and the sight of his pale, hairy middle-aged chest was so disturbing, I almost threw up in my mouth. Who contrived this silly stunt? How could it have seemed like a good idea? But here’s a silver lining: it’s really hard to get photos of this coverage (since Peacock blocks screen grabs) so I don’t have a photo for you. Consider yourself lucky.

My cat has taken up residence in my lap. I’ve forgiven her for the cat box episode.


Wilco Kelderman (Visma-Rent a Bike) leads the GC group over the summit as Remco Evenepoel (Soudal Quick-Step) zips up for the descent.


The commentator Tejay van Gardaren just used the phrase “eat out this advantage.” I’m quite sure he didn’t say “eke out this advantage,” which also wouldn’t have made much sense in the context. I’m not sure what Tejay’s relationship is to language, but it looks pretty rocky from here.

“He wisely takes a gel bar there,” Phil says of De Plus. I wonder if Phil has looked closely at the consumables available to the riders? There are certainly bars, and gels, but I’ve never yet heard of a “gel bar.” Maybe Phil needs to pay more attention to the constant ads for The Feed that Peacock keeps showing. And I need to pay less, obviously, since it’s pretty sad that I’m even aware of them. I have a grudge against The Feed. I was led to believe that as a high school mountain bike coach I could get some free product, but it was a scam … though I abandoned the “registration” process midway through, The Feed now spams the crap out of me and I had to set up an email filter. Bastards. Don’t go for the “free water bottle” offer … your inbox may never recover.

It’s a long way to the final climb so I’ll fill you in on what’s happened so far in this Tour. Even though Vingegaard has won the last two Tours, he came in as a big question mark because he had a brutal crash this spring and was in the hospital for like ten days, and until a few weeks ago nobody was sure he’d even start the Tour. Pogacar, on the other hand, has been on fire all season, destroying his so-called rivals in the Giro d’Italia. I was starting to worry that this was going to be a totally boring Tour, but then Pogacar got COVID not long before the Tour started. So it looked like there might be some drama. So far, it’s been pretty good. Pogacar won the fourth stage, taking 37 seconds out of Vinegaard, but at least the Dane seemed to be on reasonably good form (as opposed to former winner Egan Bernal of the Ineos Granadiers who never really recovered from a bad crash a few years back, and lost 2:42 on this first mountain stage). Pogacar had a great Stage 7 time trial, taking another 25 seconds out of Vingegaard and 22 seconds out of another GC rival, Primoz Roglic (Red Bull-Bora Hansgrohe). Meanwhile, Evenepoel has been riding well, winning the time trial. In Stage 11, Vingegaard managed a stage win but didn’t take any time back from Pogacar, though he did distance Evenepoel by 25 seconds. In Stage 12, Roglic crashed hard and had to abandon the Tour, alas. Then, yesterday, Pogacar took another stage win and 39 more seconds out of Vingegaard, who at least took 31 seconds off Evenepoel to move into second overall. Vingegaard now wears the polka-dotted KOM jersey though it actually belongs to Pogacar.

Tobias Johannessen (Uno-X Mobility) has clawed his way back to the breakaway, making it five. But their lead is down to just 2:41 over the very strong GC group, and I think this break is probably doomed. I have to confess, it’s always slightly annoying when I’ve devoted some energy describing the breakaway, naming its participants, etc., all for nothing. Now you’re laughing at me and saying, “Poor baby! These guys are slaying themselves for a chance at glory, but your poor fingers hurt from all that typing?” Well, yeah. And remember, these guys are getting paid. I’m just here as a public service … and you might be the only person ever to lay eyes on this text. What a waste, all around.

Now the same commentator who had sat in an inflatable pool earlier has put his shirt back on and is interviewing some random Slovenian fan.

INTERVIEWER: Why do you like Tadej Pogacar so much?

RANDO: You’re pronouncing his name wrong.

INTERVIEWER: It’s not TAD-ay Po-GOTCH-ah?

RANDO: No. It’s Tad-AY Po-GOTCH-arh.

INTERVIEWER: Sorry.

RANDO: [huffs]

INTERVIEWER: So why do you like him so much, even though you said you’re not much of a sports fan?

RANDO: Because he’s so young but already so accomplished. He’s at the top of the leader board for a reason.

INTERVIEWER: Do you think that actually passes for insight?

RANDO: No, I never said I knew anything about sport. I was just minding my own business here when you came and stuck a mic in my face.

INTERVIEWER: Do you want to sit in the baby pool with me later?

RANDO: Please just leave me alone, you’re kind of creeping me out.


Okay, I have to admit something. I didn’t even try to give you an accurate transcript of that interview. My job is to entertain, and although that’s ostensibly the job of the commentators as well, they don’t always deliver. This is the trouble with live journalism … the footage they get, which deserves to end up on the cutting room floor, is just shoved at you like cafeteria-grade gruel in real time. They hoped this rando would be entertaining but he just just wasn’t. And who is this commentator? Where did they find him? Why is he ever on camera when he knows nothing about cycling?

They’re showing a list of past Plateau de Beille winners. I’m kind of surprised to see Lance Armstrong on the list, for 2002 and 2004. “Contador and Pantani won officially,” Bob Roll explains, “and Lance Armstrong won but was then disqualified … fairly or unfairly, time will tell.” Huh? WTF? I had kind of thought that after Lance made a fool out of himself on “Oprah” that the matter was settled. Isn’t that the acid test? I mean, after Tom Cruise jumped up and down on Oprah’s couch nobody has ever taken him seriously again … why would posterity ever return Lance’s past glory to him? This makes no sense.

Here’s an aerial shot of the final climb. A lot more interesting than a football field or a basketball court, innit?


The peloton reaches the base of the Plateau de Beille, and Kelderman, completely knackered, sits up and goes straight out the back.


The American Matteo Jorgenson, Vingegaard’s super-domestique, drills the pace on the front.


The gap to the breakaway is tumbling with a quickness. At the front, Carapaz attacks!


The GC group is down to nine riders. I’m not giving you their names … several more will get dropped soon. Suffice to say Evenepoel is still in there … for now.

What a waste of an exclamation point a couple sentences ago … Carapaz was reeled in like a retiree watching a timeshare seminar. (You won’t get metaphors like this with mainstream sports coverage.)

Jorgenson continues to drill it on the front, like a boss. Pogacar picks his nose. (His own nose, I mean. Not Jorgenson’s.)


The breakaway is breaking up. Mas, wearing an exquisite death-rictus, hammers on the front but it won’t be long until they’re caught. Note that Carapaz not only failed to get a gap, but slipped off the back of these two.


Carapaz regains contact and immediately attacks again. I’m sticking with a period this time, no exclamation point for him.


Vingegaard attacks! Only Pogacar can hang with him.


The duo blows by the dropped breakaway riders like they’re nothing, which they are. Look how weird De Plus looks in this photo. Some kind of A.I. auto-retouching, perhaps?


Now the leaders fly by the remaining breakaway riders. Carapaz latches on.


Evenepoel has already lost 30 seconds. And now Carapaz is dropped.

Evenepoel overtakes Carapaz. “He’s riding well and putting his rubber stamp on this race,” Phil says cryptically. I’ve certainly heard of “stamping your authority,” but the rubber stamp thing … doesn’t that normally indicate something very rote? I’m not getting this metaphor at all.

Pogacar has been out of the wind this entire race. He’s just sucking Vingegaard’s wheel, which is of course perfectly appropriate. And it’s a 9% grade so they’re probably not going all that fast, so it’s not like Vingegaard is being taken advantage of, exactly. But still, you wonder how long he can last. He had to attack early, so that in the unlikely event of Pogacar faltering, the Dane would have enough road to stretch out his lead and take the yellow jersey. But Pogacar looks super comfortable.

Peacock is patching in audio from their random, clueless baby-pool commentator who I just learned is named Steve. “I’ve already summited,” Steve says, as though being driven up a mountain is  some kind of heroic achievement. “I can tell you that it is very steep up here,” he continues, as though providing value. “Later I’m going to visit a day care center and hope to get some graham crackers and a juice box,” he does not go on to say, though he may as well.

Evenepoel is hemorrhaging time. He looks pretty demoralized. Or maybe he’s just hurting. I mean, of course he is.


And now Pogacar attacks! Rude! Gosh, with three miles to go, this really isn’t the prudent move of a GC leader with a decent lead who seems like he could theoretically lose the race by digging deeper than necessary. Very cheeky. Don’t get me wrong, I love panache, but this just seems gratuitous. Pogacar looks back, to taunt the Dane.


They ask commentator Christan Vande Velde, on the motorbike, to comment on Vingegaard’s unfolding nightmare. “He’s really suffering,” Christian says. “I haven’t seen him look this horrified since his family accidentally abandoned him in ‘Home Alone.’” Christian is to be forgiven for confusing Vingegaard with the child actor Macaulay Culkin because after all, the two are very nearly identical. Also, I made all that up, needless to say.

Pogacar goes under the 1-kilometer kite. Why is it called a kite? I don’t know. It just is.


Pogacar gets the win. He does the controversial “I’ve just woken up and am stretching” victory salute, as if to rub his rivals’ nose in it.


Vingegaard crosses the line, 1:08 down. His elbows are locked, as though even his arms have given out. I know the feeling.


Evenepoel finishes, losing 2:51 to Pogacar and 1:43 to Vingegaard. Presumably, more riders trickle in as the footage turns to Pogacar drinking water and once again being congratulated by various staffers. Yawn.

Now Carapaz limps through, well over five minutes down.

Bob Roll describes Pogacar’s win as “pure joy.” I’d say killjoy is more like it. Remember when riders were vulnerable and occasionally cracked, especially after winning races all season long? Pogacar has 16 pro victories this season, which is a similar number to the races he’s entered. He dominated the Giro and is now poised to be only the eighth rider in history to win the Giro/Tour double, and the first since the fully lubed Pantani in 1998. Some might find this exciting; to me it’s a lot like that egghead kid in the schoolroom who’s always got his hand up when the teacher asks a question, and who goes “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” when she pretends not to see him.

As they show a super-slo-mo of Vingegaard crossing the line, they play a recording of what his director said over the race radio: “Really, really good job. You did everything Jonas … Pogacar is better, and we have to accept this, huh?” Gosh. That guy should moonlight as a motivational speaker. (And no, I didn’t actually fabricate that quote, for once.)

As Pogacar warms down, of course he’s on his phone. What’s he doing? Doomscrolling? Social media? The Wordle? We can only speculate.


My online correspondent writes, “Well, the Tour is officially boring.” True, true.

And now it’s time for the uncomfortable conversation: could Pogacar possibly be clean? Well, I just read on cyclingnews.com that “Dutch journalist Thijs Zonneveld reports that Niki Terpstra has calculated [Pogacar’s] climbing time as 3:39 quicker than Pantani’s 1998 Plateau de Beille record.” So … how would this amazing feat be achieved clean, knowing that Pantani was coked to the gills throughout his career? Is it because Pogacar has electronic shifting? Better nutrition? Just wanted it more? Uh-huh. I’m not sure what to do about this. Maybe the TV networks will sue WADA for failing to police doping better, so that the stages could last longer and provide more advertising opportunities. Think of how much revenue they’ve lost through the curtailed coverage since every day the riders come through far sooner than expected.

They’re interviewing Pogacar.

INTERVIEWER: Well, thanks to your absurd dominance today, the Tour is officially boring.

POGACAR: I never would have imagined this. It was really hot, a super hard day, incredible, I’ve been cooling down and everything.

INTERVIEW: Half of your [stage] victories have been in the Pyrenees. What do you make of that?

POGACAR: Well, think about it. There are two mountain ranges used in this Tour and I didn’t win the time trial, so … duh.

INTERVIEWER: How did you pull this off, taking so much time out of your rivals?

POGACAR: They didn’t have the legs. More specifically, they didn’t have my legs.

INTERVIEWER: That sounds rather arrogant—did you really just say that?

POGACAR: No, I have said very little actually, which is why this blogger is taking liberties.

INTERVIEWER: What were you doing on your phone a bit ago, during your warm-down?

POGACAR: I was reading albertnet, of course.


Here’s the stage result:


And here’s the new GC:

Mark Cavendish (Astana-Qazaqstan Team), who won Stage 5 to set a new world record for most career Tour stage victories (click here for details) crosses the line, flanked by teammates, less than two minutes before the time cut would have ended his Tour.


And now the French sprinter Arnaud Démare comes over the line, a minute before he’d have been cut. Why is this remarkable? Well, he’s an amazing climber, having set a new Strava KOM for the final climb of the Milan-San Remo classic back in 2016. Of course, he had a bit of help in that he was hanging on his team car the whole time up the climb in what must be the worst example of unpunished cheating in the history of sport (click here for details). The good news is, Démare totally sucks now, failing to win a Tour stage since 2018, and I love to watch him lose. And I’m glad he made the time cut so I can watch him lose the next flat stage as well.


Jorgenson really sacrificed for his team leader today, losing 9:30 and dropping from 10th to 12th on GC. But hey, he was doing his job and I respect that. In other news, they’ve awarded Carapaz the Combativity award for today’s stage, which he totally deserves.

They’re interviewing Evenepoel now.

INTERIEWER: Well, you blew big greasy chunks today. How do you feel about that?

EVENEPOEL: Actually, I am happy. I consolidated my third place and my white jersey.

INTERVIEWER: But you lost big time to Pogacar and Vingegaard.

EVENEPOEL: I was getting my time gaps to them over my radio, but I didn’t want them. I just wanted to hear about the guys behind.

INTERVIEWER: That’s really defeatist of you.

EVENEPOEL: …

INTERVIEWER: Why the COVID mask? Do you really think I’m gonna give you COVID?

EVENEPOEL: Well, you do seem to spit a lot when you talk. But actually, I’m wearing this mask because earlier my directeur sportif was giving me a hard time about my yellow teeth. So I’m just covering up.

INTERVIEWER: Is that true?

EVENEPOEL: Of course not.


Well, I was hoping they’d interview Vingegaard, but they never did and now the coverage has concluded. Tune in again next year because I’m not going to bother blogging any more about this officially boring Tour.

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