Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2017 Vuelta a España Stage 20

Introduction

If you don’t have the time or inclination to watch the Vuelta a España live, but are tired of typical recaps such as tongue-biting professionals write, perhaps you’ll welcome the opportunity to laugh at an account by an amateur whose cynicism about this supposedly clean sport sometimes creates a bias. Today I give a biased blow-by-blow of the all-important Stage 20 of this Vuelta, which is surely the hardest stage of all and will decide the overall winner ahead of tomorrow’s boring, flat sprinters’ stage.

2017 Vuelta a España Stage 20 – Corvera de Asturias to Alto de l’Angliru

I’m not going to waste your time … we join the action of the final climb of the Vuelta, the Angliru, a 12km monster, beyond category.  Sure, there has been plenty of action already today but it hasn’t amounted to anything.

What you may have missed over the last few days—as I had—are two important developments.  First, in a 40km time trial, race leader Christopher Froome (Team Sky) took a minute out of Vincenzo Nibali (Bahrain-Merida) who sits 2nd overall on GC.  This put Froomestrong, who dopes (yes, he does, anybody can see it) in the overall lead by a seemingly insurmountable 2 minutes. But then, in a subsequent mountain stage, Nibali and the Spanish champ Alberto Contador (Trek-Segafredo) managed to drop Punky Froomester and take like a minute out of him. This almost never happens so I really wish I’d watched.

The result is that, going into today, Froome still has like a minute on Nibali, but now seems on the back foot. Maybe Nibali and Contador will tag-team this so Contador can get a stage win (about all he can hope for, being way back on GC) and Nibali can pull off the GC victory. I for one would love to see it. Not that Contador is clean or anything, but for some reason he’s my favorite doper of the modern era. I guess this is because Contador has style, doesn’t look bad on the bike, and loses a lot. I’m mainly sore at Froome because he’s a ghastly gaunt ungainly guy, and he and his team make the sport boring by being too dominant.

Hmm, it looks like Condator isn’t even in the lead group. So he’s not necessarily going to end his career with a grand tour stage win. Oh well.

Now here’s something interesting. Team Sunweb is working really hard on the front, which duty is normally left for Team Sky. What’s Sunweb’s purpose? The announcer says, “Blah blah blah Kelderman blah blah podium blah blah blah.” It’s hard to hear because I’m on the back patio of a coffee shop with a bunch of people who are having really interesting conversations. It’s also hard to see my screen because it’s a sunny morning. Also, my brother Max is like this incredible magnet who draws all his friends to the table, so I get introduced to each of them in turn. Then I feel I should apologize in advance for being a dick by tuning them out in favor of my laptop. Why do I do this? Why would I rather write this silly report than socialize with cool people? I don’t know. I just can’t help it.

Sunweb actually has several guys on the front. They look pretty badass. This team seemed to bob up out of nowhere this year—I first encountered them in the Giro d’Italia—and I guess I’ll have to read up on them at some point.

Looks like Contador is like 54 seconds behind somebody. Maybe 54 seconds behind the GC group? Or a breakaway? I’m starting to think he’s ahead of the GC group. So, 54 seconds isn’t a ton, with 10km to go, but I’m wondering why nobody is talking about (or showing) Nibali. I mean, he’s the guy who has a chance in the GC. Who cares about a stage win, in this GC-deciding stage?

I was really groggy before and now I’ve had a cup of strong, black coffee. I don’t brew it this strong at home. I’m starting to tremble, and I think I’m at risk of having to run to the loo. I might miss an all-important attack! Maybe I should seek sponsorship from the good folks over at Depends.

All they’re talking about is if Contador can catch up!  Who cares!? He can’t overtake Froome in the GC, so he’s dead to me!

I can see Froome (you could recognize his gawky, poor form from space) tucked in there behind Sunweb and Sky.

Contador is with an Orica-Scott rider, Yates (which of the Yates brothers I don’t know or care) and some guy named Mas. Mas used to have a longer name, but he cut it down to save weight.

You know how modern action and horror movies have that shaky-camera, cinema verité thing going? I’m hoping the lack of detail and precision in this coverage is creating the same effect. Is it working? Are you on the edge of your seat, creeped out by a general sense of bewilderment?

The big Sunweb guy is still forcing the pace. You can see that Froome is struggling because his neck is all bent. I wonder … does his head always dip to the right, or does it sometimes go left? His entire body is rigid. I guess it’s possible that he’s not a doper, but an actual automaton with a hyper-alloy combat chassis, like The Terminator.

I guess they’re just showing the Contador drama because the pace is too high in the lead group for Nibali (or anyone) to attack. The cameramen have probably stopped bothering to check very often because they know how this thing works.

Some Sky guy just took off his jacket and threw it on the road, but my brother, looking over my shoulder, couldn’t see very well and said, “Wait, did he just wipe his ass with a spectator’s flag?” I confirmed this, just to keep him entertained.

I missed a couple of kilometers just now because I got caught up in a conversation. Let me figure out what I missed. Looks like Sky is still on the front, no change. Surprise, surprise. I would just love to see Nibali launch some blistering attack and just obliterate this GC group. Maybe his victory salute would be flipping the bird with both hands, or maybe some cool Italian equivalent of that.

Looks like Contador’s in a small group of guys that is like 40 seconds behind. Actually, wait! I think they’re actually ahead! Probably they were behind some nobody, whom they’ve overhauled and left behind. Look, I’m really sorry for how screwed up this coverage is. I thought it would be fun, that you’d feel like you were watching from a sports bar, but of course that’s absurd.

Nibali’s team has taken up the lead of the GC group. It seems like pedaling hard on the front could never work against Sky, though. Maybe they should take Nibali off the back a bit, and then give him like a full lead-out sprint so that when they come past the front of the group they’re going like twice as fast. And then the domestiques could all crash in the road to create a physical barrier, to slow down the chase. I mean, how is going hard at the front going to soften up Sky? Sky was on the front breaking the wind, and now they’re getting a draft! How does this leading thing help?

Oh no! My feed has frozen! And it was working so well! Maybe Sky management is on to me! Or maybe I’m delusional about anybody, even you, noticing or caring what I have to say!

So Sunweb is chasing to protect Kelderman’s podium spot, apparently. And Contador wants a stage win. And Bahrain-Merida is training for next season by working really hard.

Woah, Contador seems to be dropped! Soler, I think, has dropped him! It’s only 5km to go and Bahrain-Merida is still grinding away on the front. Nibali is doing nothing. He’s just a passenger. He must have used up all his strength earlier in the week. This GC group is small, with Tiger Woods, Poels, Zakarin, Kruijswijk, and some other bike racers. Wait, not Tiger Woods. Just Woods, whoever that is. Mr. Woods.

So Contador has 55 seconds on the GC group , and might even be leading the race. This would be more exciting if I actually knew. I refuse to say he’s dancing on the pedals like the announcer just said. That is so hackneyed. Contador is prancing on the pedals. His feet are spinning beautiful pirouettes. He’s boinging on the bike. He’s pogo-ing. He’s pistoning. He’s pedaling.

Okay, a vaguely familiar tall guy on that one team is attacking the GC group. If this attack comes to anything I’ll figure out who he is.

Contador is just macking it on the front! Let’s just say he is in the lead, and not worry about what happened to Soler. For the ageing champ in his last grand tour to be solo off the front, in his homeland, makes a good narrative and might even be true. In fact, with the doping problem so totally unresolved in this sport, making shit up seems as reasonable as reporting only what is truly believed.

So, here’s what’s happening. Contador is in the lead! It’s not a fairy tale, like the announcer is saying; I mean, that would imply this is just too good to be true.  But is it? I mean, it’s not like Contador never wins. And it’s not like a GC hopeful who has a bad day early and is no longer a GC threat couldn’t just save up some energy and then count on the GC guys to let him go. Is that really too good to be true? No, actually, it’s not uncommon!

Hey, guess what? I just noticed the caption says “Cabeza!” No, that’s not Spanish for “caboose,” it means “head,” as in the beef brains you can get on your burrito at a really authentic taqueria. Mystery solved! This is the head of the race! Contador truly is off the front! It’s a fairy tale romance!

There’s that big guy again! It’s Steven Kruijswijk! Of Lotto NL – Jumbo! This is really exciting as evidenced by all my exclamation points! I almost never use exclamation points unless I’m really excited, or have had too much strong coffee! This is crazy! I’m sweating like a pig! I’m sweating more than these bikers! Man this grade is steep! And Contador is practically weaving!

He’s got 58 seconds and 3.5km to go. Maybe he’ll pull it off. Behind, Kruisjwijk is plowing on, with a somewhat decent lead on the guys behind him. Where is this guy on GC? I can’t remember. I guess he either stands to climb onto the podium for the GC, or fall off it. Maybe he’s trying to take time out of Kelderman? I’m sorry. It’s been a hard week. I probably should have just slept in this morning.

There’s this teammate of Nibali’s who is super strong and has been on the front for ages and ages upon ages. His expression never changes. I think he’s one of these guinea pigs for the new alternative to doping, which is to surgically destroy certain parts of the brain as a way to shut down inhibitory nerve centers. This allows the athlete to literally push past the normal limitations that the brain imposes by prioritizing its own oxygen supply. Note: I totally just made this up and there’s not a scrap of truth to it (that I know of).

It’s under 3km to go and Nibali still hasn’t attacked. His mother and I are really disappointed. If he is the father of a small child, perhaps later today that child will start crying and say, “Daddy, you never win!” That happened to me once. True story.

Wow, the security on this course is terrible. Nobody will get out of Contador’s way. Assuming most of these are Spanish fans, don’t they understand they could ruin the big fairy tale? Is that any tale to tell their grandkids? “Our national hero, Alberto Contador, was on his way to a glorious victory on the hardest mountain stage of his final grand tour, right here on home soil, but I got in his way and he crashed into me and lost. That’s how I got this big scar on my face. Not from the crash, mind you, but the hoodlum fans afterward. I guess I should have stayed out of the way. Tee-hee!”

Kruijswijk is riding really well. I’m still not sure what he’ll have to show for it other than knowing he’s a badass. That must feel really good, thinking, “Those Sky guys are lubed to the gills, but I’m still breaking their legs! Look how fast I’m going! How did I ever get this fast? This is amazing! Outta my way, motherfrockles!”

Krijswijkiny! (To coin a new exclamation.) Look at this crowd!

Uh oh, my brother Max is telling a really funny story and I’m getting distracted! He’s talking about something I actually care about! My concentration is shot!

And now my Internet feed has evaporated! Again! I’m really sorry!

Oh no! One of Froomie’s teammates seems to be dragging him away from the rest of the GC group! It’s curtains for Nibali! I guess he was tilting at windmills all along. How Spanish of him.

Zakarin has dropped Kelderman … I guess he has a shot at the podium now? Remind me not to tune out of the Vuelta for days at a time and then not do my homework before presuming to explain a bike race to you people.

Less than 1km to go, and here’s what the race looks like:

I take it back, it’s 1.2 km to go.

Here’s Froomie’s teammate practically dropping him.

Oh no, Froome is only 30 seconds behind Contador!

Contador is dying! But the road flattens out a bit. I think he’ll be able to hold off Froomestrong.

Froome is clearly not as strong as his teammate. I should really learn this teammate’s name. And forget Froome’s.

And here’s the final moment of drama!

My online correspondent keeps telling me to buy the CBS Sports channel. But that coverage is commentated by a couple of drunken Aussies, always rambling about throwing a couple more shrimp on the barbee. I really like Sean Kelly’s commentary, which consists mainly of saying, “Yes.”

My correspondent says, “No, they’re not drunk … they’ve only had seven beers!” (Full disclosure: I’ve never heard these Aussies and have no credible reason to assume they’re drunks. But they’re not Sean Kelly.)

Hey, look, my feed is back!

Looks like I missed the grand finale. Oh well. Let’s assume that Contador won, and that Nibali didn’t take a minute out of Froome in the last kilometer. Okay, here’s the instant replay.

I give Contador a lot of credit for not doing that stupid “pistolero” victory salute where he pantomimes shooting a handgun. I got really tired of that act back when Contador was winning a lot.

Froome comes in third. He had some help.

His teammate helped too, of course, but by “help” I was of course talking about whatever high-test PEDs seem to enable him to crush everybody despite having all the finesse and grace of a child’s crayon drawing. Of a zombie.

I’m not going to bother with the podiums or interviews or making fun of Juan Antonio Flecha. Let’s just assume he’s wearing a Pepto-Bismol colored shirt and saying, “Contador won because he rode faster, which seems to happen a lot in this sport.”

Note: I will be crowdsourcing the funds needed to buy the CBS channel, or Fubio, or whatever the hell that stupid new extortion network is that has smothered all the good free feeds. Yes, of course I’m joking! I would never ask for money. This blog will always be free, and I hope you appreciate that, even if you get what you pay for.

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Biased Blow-By-Blow: 2016 Paris-Nice Stage 6

Introduction

You don’t have time to watch Paris-Nice.  Or, you can’t remember how to TiVo it.  (Or maybe TiVo no longer exists, maybe you kids have moved on to something else—I don’t know.)  It could be you don’t care enough about this middling race to get up early.  Whatever the case, you’ve come to the right place for a somewhat brief, admittedly snarky blow-by-blow report of the queen stage.

2016 Paris-Nice Stage 6 – Nice-La Madone d’Uteile

As I join the action, Andrew Talansky has abandoned the race!  This is really weird because a few minutes ago, when I hadn’t logged in yet but was following the cyclingnews coverage on my phone, he was in the breakaway.  WTF??  Evidently he crashed on a descent and hurt his wrist while I was making tea.  If I’d had my old teakettle, the good one, I wouldn’t have missed seeing that.

The video feeds are scarce today.  The best I can do for commentary is some Aussie or Kiwi guy.  He seems to be flying solo … nobody to chat with so I’m missing the repartee I normally enjoy.  It’s usually some British guy matched with Sean Kelly, the Irish champ.  So I’m disappointed. 

There’s about 35 km to go and they’re on the Category 2 Côte de Levens.  After this is the Côte Duranuus (literally “coast of your anus”), also Cat 2, even though it’s only a mile long.  How can a mile-long climb be a Cat 2?  Rating inflation, I tell you.  Pretty sad.  Then they hit the Cat 1 Madone d’Uteile (“useful Madaonna”), which is 9.5 miles long and averages 5.7% … so it’s about like Mount Diablo in the Bay Area.

“Mother Nature was at her moody worst on Stage 3 when snow canceled the stage,” the random announcer guy says.  I guess I never realized how much I appreciate the banter of two commentators.  Heck, at this point I’d take Howard Stern helping out.  What would he say?  “Yeah, Mother Nature is moody.  I’d like to see her naked.  I’ll bet she’s got a hot little body.”  Maybe that wouldn’t be so good, actually.

So, to catch you up on what’s transpired in the first five stages of this race:  Michael Matthews (Orice-GreenEdge) won the prologue and has been in yellow ever since; stage one was won by Arnaud Démare (FDJ) in a bunch sprint; stage two was awarded to Matthews when Nacer Bouhanni (Cofidis) practically rode him into the fencing in the final sprint and was relegated to third (and it’s amazing they stayed upright); stage 3 was canceled because of snow; on Stage 4 Bouhanni managed not to get penalized and took the win; and yesterday Alexey Lutsenko (Astana) soloed to victory and now sits 2nd on the GC, just 6 seconds behind Matthews.

The announcer is talking about taxes.  Whoah, Alberto Contador (Tinkoff) attacks!  His team has been on the front hammering the whole time, and now with 28 km to go, he bolts ahead on the flat section between these two climbs.  Ah, going for the time bonus.  So he’s got it, and is now waiting for the peloton to come back and shelter him again.  I wouldn’t call this an ingenious move, exactly, but the question is, why did Matthews’ team not see it coming?  Or are they just too tired to react, having needlessly ridden at the front all week?

My original feed has died, possibly because my cat keeps walking on the keyboard.  The French feed has ads too, and they are pretty corny.  Now the sound is gone altogether.  Cat again.  She’s a kitten and is super bored by bike racing, even more so than my wife.  At least Erin doesn’t jump up and bat at the screen.  Now sound is back but I’m not following the commentator very well.  I think he’s talking some pro-Socialist propaganda.  “Blah blah blah c’est normal.”  Now it’s something about somebody going to the hospital tomorrow.

The breakaway—whose members I never did report, sorry—is breaking up anyway.  It’s a breakupaway.  Antoine Duchesne (Direct Energie) is leading solo but with only 41 seconds on the field.  Now it’s an ad for the Quesalupa, which is like a French hot-pocket.  I guess that marks the end of Western Civilization.  Oh, wait, that’s an American ad (the lack of sound threw me).  It’s okay for the U.S. to have Mexican-themed hot pockets since we’re already ruined.  But when France gets the hot pocket, the terrorists win.

Woah, Matthews is really struggling!  Bobbing in the saddle and slipping off the back!  And now Team Sky is on the front for the first time, banging away like a bunch of animals!  And Matthews is dropped!  Good.  I’ve got nothing against the guy, but picking up some seconds in the prologue, a few more due to a contested finish, and then hanging on for the GC win would just be too boring.

Duchesne is climbing on the drops now.  Now he’s out of the saddle like it’s the final sprint.  Maybe he’s delusional and thinks he’s 200 meters from the line.  Now his head goes down … he’s cooked.  Poor guy.  At least he got some screen time.  Maybe his four-year-old daughter is watching on TV and when her dad gets home tomorrow she’ll burst out crying and say, “Daddy, you always lose!”

The peloton, all back together now except those who’ve been shed—including Matthews, who’s already lost over 40 seconds—is on the final descent before the Madone.  It’s a mountaintop finish today, which is why I’m bothering to watch.

Sky still has five guys on the front, despite the six categorized climbs the stage has already gone over.  That’s just how they roll.  They’ll be working for Geraint Thomas, who sits in 6th place, starting the day only 23 seconds behind Matthews.  Thomas is six feet tall and a team pursuit specialist, but the hilly terrain of this “queen stage” will suit him well, because all terrain suits Sky.  They’d probably excel at the hammer throw and discus as well.

Speaking of Sky and favorites, Richie Porte has switched over to BMC Racing Team this season, and sits tenth, 31 seconds back.  If he wins this race, I’m going to put my head in the oven.  I won’t turn on the gas or anything; it’s just a bike race, after all … but I’ll hang out there for a while, maybe scrub the thing out while I’m at it.

Another favorite, if you ask me, has to be Rafal Majka (Tinkoff).  He’s awfully good, and sits 9th, 31 seconds back.  If Contador doesn’t go well, Majka will be the backup plan.

Whoah!  I guess the Aussie announcer just bailed, maybe to go throw a coupla more shrimp on the barbee, because now it’s a British guy whose voice sounds familiar, and Sean Kelly!  My heart rate just broke 50 for the first time all morning!

Sky’s Nicolas Roche, who is a giant guy, finally detonates.  That’s good to see.  Fate shouldn’t jam.  When fate jams, I start to doubt what I’m seeing.

It’s 11 km to go, and the field is shrinking.  I think Lutsenko has been dropped.  After his effort yesterday I’ll bet he’s pretty fried.

Porte must be missing his old Sky team now … BMC has totally bailed off the back and he’s all alone.  Serves him right, the prick.

Whoah, it’s still five Sky riders, even with Roche dropped.  Either somebody else came flying up from the back of the peloton, or I miscounted earlier.

Contador and Majka are drilling it on the front!  Majka is leading Contador and the field has pretty much evaporated, straight up vacated, surely deflated and enervated.

I guess I spoke too soon.  Sky has dragged about ten guys back up.  But the pace is still high and more guys are gonna get sawed off the back in the remaining 8.5 km.  Man, Majka looks “seemingly infinitely powerful,” to quote an old cycling sage.  Poker-faced and just sitting on the front setting a high tempo.  Contador looks totally collected and comfortable.  He never looks too strained, of course, but if you look carefully (for example, when he’s riding with a broken tibia) you can see his pre-orthodontia overbite returning a little.  It’s not a good look.  And when he’s really dying, his upper lip creeps up and he starts to look a bit like a donkey.  None of that now.

Alexa Albert (Albany High School Cougars) chooses an odd time to take a feed, but she executes well, just like we practiced.

Porte is just sitting in this lead group, also looking as casual and unfazed as that chick at the gym on the Stairmaster who’s reading “Us” magazine, supporting all her weight on her hands, so her feet are just paddling along pointlessly.

It’s 7 km to go and Majka just stays on it.  Contador will have to do something soon because he has 5 seconds to make up on Porte and is 14 seconds behind Thomas.

With 6 km to go they hit a really steep section, about a kilometer at 10%. 

Majka takes advantage of the grade, out of the saddle attacking in earnest!  Contador is right on him, with a couple Sky guys sitting on him.  Contador counterattacks and the field is shattered!  Majka detonates and is done for the day.  Contador is macking a huge gear, and has a gap on the two Sky dopers!  He’s going pretty well but it’s two against one and when the grade flattens out they’ll have a real edge.  Ah, it’s already coming back together.

The Sky duo has caught Contador, and so has Porte.  The rest of the field has dropped 13 seconds behind.  A Katusha rider, Ilnur Zakarin (who sits 25th overall) has also joined this group.  He’s a big Russian guy and looks oddly comfortable.  The Sky riders are Thomas and Sergio Henao.

Contador attacks again!  He’s going pretty well but keeps looking over his shoulder—“Are they dead yet?”—which somehow always strikes me as a bad sign.  Now Zakarin is on the front, still looking really good.  It’s 3 km to go.  With the time bonuses, the GC could be tighter than ever by the end.  Wow, Kelly just said the same thing!  I feel honored.

Now Henao is on the front, knocking out a high tempo to set up Thomas.  It’s 2 km to go.  God, that Russian guy, Zakarin, he’s giant!  Like a giraffe running with zebras.

And now Porte attacks!  He’s instantly neutralized.  He probably misses the really good dope they have over at Sky.  Thomas is taunting him:  “Where’s your ‘winter training’ now, Porte!  Ha ha ha!”

Porte flicks his elbow, as if to say, “Your turn.”  I guess he forgot Thomas isn’t his teammate anymore.

My feed has gone away!  Dang it!  With less than 1km to go I have to switch over and watch the French feed.  Thomas totally launches himself!  Only Zakarin can follow! 

But Contador is putting up a good fight.  It’s not enough!  He’s well and truly gapped!  Thomas looks solid but Zakarin comes by as they approach the line!

Zakarin takes the win!  Whoah, I did not see that coming!  Never even heard of the guy before.

That’ll shake up the GC quite a bit.  Remember, Zakarin was 47 seconds back, so he won’t take the GC lead.  I reckon it’ll go to Thomas, because he only needed 5 seconds on Tom Dumoulin (Team Giant-Alpecin), who is the only GC contender left who was anywhere near him, and, actually, he wasn’t.  Here’s the final stage results:

Unfortunately, the coverage seems to have ended.  Or is this just a commercial break?  I’m having to watch a trailer for “Plus Belle la Vie,” some French TV show.  It looks really boring:  just some good looking French women and ugly French men waving guns around.  Something about a French person waving a gun around just doesn’t seem convincing.  Give a handgun to any American of any age, from toddler up to bluehair, and that’s some scary shit.  You better believe the American will shoot.  But you could wave off a gun-wielding Frenchman:  “Don’t make me laugh.”

The top three on GC are Thomas in the lead, with Contador 15 seconds back, and Zakarin another 5 seconds behind.  Tomorrow’s stage is a bit lumpy with a couple of so-called Category 1 climbs, but there’s a 15 km descent to the finish which so often rules out a significant breakaway.  I think another Paris-Nice goes to Sky, thanks to the eerily strong performance, on this mountainous stage, of their ringer, a giant former track racer.  Go Goliath!

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Biased Blow-By-Blow - Giro d’Italia Stage 15

Introduction

Today I continue my ongoing tradition of giving the blow-by-blow race report that real journalists aren’t allowed to.  I’ll put words to the vague feelings of antipathy you may have toward certain riders, other personalities, or the sport in general, and I’ll deliver fascinating back-story that might as well be true.  Read on for my biased, fearless coverage of today’s Giro stage.

Biased Blow-By-Blow – 2015 Giro d’Italia Stage 15

As I join the action, the racers have 60 km to go. I think they’re way ahead of schedule. Of course this leads to suspicion that it’s “game on,” à la the early aughts and the pharma-fueled peloton.  How early does a guy have to wake up to see two full hours of race coverage?

The situation is this:  there’s a breakaway of ten that has about three minutes on the main bunch. It includes Beñat Intxausti Elorriaga (Movistar), who won stage 8 (a summit finish like they’ll have today), and Brent Bookwalter (BMC).  Intxausti must either be really tired, or he was loafing during yesterday’s time trial, because he lost over 8 minutes.

Do professional cyclists actually loaf during time trials?  Yep.  I remember watching a time trial stage of the Coors Classic in 1985, and Giuseppe Sarroni came by.  I recognized him immediately—he’d won the world championships three years before—so of course I cheered like a maniac.  He wasn’t going hard at all, though; he was riding on the hoods and looked bored.  When he heard me cheering, he seemed suprised, and gave me a look that said, “Stop carrying on like that, boy—you look like a damn fool.”  And yet, this guy wasn’t totally washed up; he won two Giro d’Italia stages that year.

Sean Kelly is one of the commentators today, which I’m glad of.  I don’t know where he was for stage 8, but I’m imagining somebody trying to wake him up, pre-race, and him saying, “Bike races are boring, I’m not doing it.”  Either that, or he was there for stage 8 but said so little, I didn’t hear him.  I was watching a replay of stage 13 the other day, and actually heard Kelly get kind of animated.  I was so surprised, I watched that part over and over again. His voice actually goes up a little, with just a hint of a chuckle. He’s describing a crash and says, “It was just very calm,  no real big nervousness in the peloton, somebody touched a wheel there and then they just fall down like skittles.” (I was sure I heard this wrong, being an American quite familiar with the colorful candy, but unaware of the chiefly British game that sounds a lot like bowling.  The game is called skittles, as are the pins that get knocked down.)

Okay, they’re back from a commercial intermission, and the other announcer is talking about handbags.  I think you have to be very uninhibited to be a race announcer. I’ve heard these guys go on about asphalt composition, techtonic plates, and gifts of hand-knit scarves sent by grateful sports fans.

Since Eurosport has evidently adopted the “all ads, all the time” format favored by American broadcasters, I’ll take a moment to describe today’s course.  The racers have already gone over the La Fricca climb, which interestingly enough is the climb that gave the world the word “fricking,” meaning “really hard” or just “really.”  Pretty soon they’ll hit the Passo Daone, which is 8.5 km at an average grade of 9.2%.  Probably the Italians call pronounce this “day-OWN-ee,” but clearly it should be pronounced “da 1.”

Bookwalter is dropped from the breakaway, confirming the total dearth of Americans in this race.

We’ve gone split-screen, and they’re showing podium girls strutting along the road in the start/finish section! This must be a specific request from Kelly, just to keep him entertained. That’s a great idea and I’m sure it’ll be written into his contract for next year. I, for one, am pleased.

Gilbert, who finally won a stage of this Giro a few days ago, is dropped.

Wow, Richie Porte is getting dropped!  This poor guy.  He was in third but after a series of mishaps, and a really lousy time trial, is down in 17th. Either he’s really sore from his recent crash, or he’s just collapsed psychologically, or maybe the team doctor said, “You suck right now Richie, I’m not wasting any drugs on you.”  Okay, maybe that last bit was a low blow.  Perhaps it’s slightly more plausible that the team doctor actually said, “Richie, you suck right now, so let’s save this blood bag for the Tour.”  I guess it's also possible that he's just tired from having raced so fast all spring.  As my online correspondent says, “You burn that candle that bright for that long, you’re gonna run outta wax!”

So, Edoardo Zardini (Bardiani CSF), who won a mountain stage of the Giro del Trentino last year, has attacked the peloton and is trying to make his way up to the breakaway.  He’s making pretty good progress.

Wow, Rigoberto Uran (Etixx-Quick-Step) is really struggling, off the back.  He’s another favorite who really never found his legs this year.  He lost over 2½ minutes in the TT yesterday and was in 4th on the GC going into today’s stage.  He’ll tumble down the GC for sure now.

The announcer who isn’t Sean Kelly is very fond of saying “at the minute.” He says it constantly.  I’ve heard “at the moment” once in two stages of coverage, with countless “at the minute”s.  I did a little research on this and figured out what’s going on.  This guy’s brother has hated, since childhood, how he says “at the minute” instead of “at the moment,” and the announcer has discovered this and is using this knowledge to maximum advantage, just to spleen his brother, who he knows is watching this coverage.  The brother retaliates by having a hotter wife.  Sibling rivalry never really dies, does it?

The grade is at 14%, they’re saying. It never looks as steep on TV, but you can see how badly the racers are suffering.  Shoulders rocking, etc.

Team Astana is doing a great job forcing the pace at the front.  They’ve still got five or six guys.  I only see one Tinkoff guy supporting Contador.  Astana’s leader, Fabio Aru, is tucked right in there, at least for now.  Poor Aru hasn’t had the Giro of his dreams, other than wearing the maglia rosa for a day. He lost 3 minutes yesterday, whereas race leader Alberto Contador (Tinkoff-Saxo) only lost 14 seconds and appears to have this Giro locked up.  Aru’s still in second on GC, but to a fricking cripple!  I’m referring to Contador’s separated shoulder, which ought to have him totally out of the action but instead doesn’t seem to bother him a bit.  Anyway, Astana is driving the pace, led by Paolo Tiralongo, just to make sure Uran loses enough time to cease being a threat to Aru in the GC.

Poor Bookwalter.  He’s all alone out there, just waiting for the peloton to swallow him up, digest him, and perhaps excrete him as so often happens when a breakaway goes bad.

Bookwalter is hanging off the back of the peloton now.

The breakaway is down to just three guys, and I’m tempted to give you their names, but that’s just so sad when they’re probably doomed.  They had 3 minutes before this climb, and it’s down to half that.  Giovanni Visconti (Team Movistar) took the KOM points.  Now they’re getting handed some newspapers.  They don’t look like pink newspapers to me, which is a lost opportunity.  In the U.S., everything is monetized, and these would be pink newspapers that would be sold off as “collectibles” after the racers are done with them.  The smeared ink would be proof that these were used by an actual bike racer in a famous race.

So it’s 30 km to go with the next big thing being the ... oh my god, there’s an ad here for a caffeinated shampoo.  That’s just absurd.  I just googled this to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.  I wasn’t.  (I haven’t had that much caffeine myself.)  I guess the idea is that it’s absorbed through the scalp.  Neat idea, except that of course it’s solving a non-problem.  You wanna absorb caffeine?  Drink a fricking cup of coffee!

So, the next big climb, as I was starting to say, is the Madonna di Campiglio, 15.5 km at an average grade of 5.9%.  It’s a mountain-top finish, which almost always makes for pretty good excitement.

Man, five Astana guys on the front, with Aru just sitting in, practically carried on their shoulders.  It’s too bad a team this good doesn’t have a better leader.  I mean, I had to bag on Aru, it’s not like he’s a slouch or anything, but I just don’t see him mounting any kind of threat to Contador, or even matching him.  My online correspondent agrees:  “If Contador goes hard on the last climb, Aru’s gonna get sawed off.”

The break is down to 55 seconds.  They’re all on a flat section, having finished the short descent after the Daone.

Since there’s a lull in the action here, I’ll take this opportunity to weigh in on the controversy around Richie Porte getting docked two minutes for taking a wheel from a friend near the end of one of the early stages, when Porte was still in the top three on GC.  A lot of guys complained, not just Internet whiners but some racers and even Robert Millar, the former champ.  I think it’s all complete BS, and I’m not just saying that because I don’t like Porte (though I don’t).  Yeah, I get it that Porte already had some bad luck and now gets dinged a massive two minutes on top of that. But you know what’s supposed to mitigate bad luck scenarios?  Your fricking team!  Where the hell were Porte’s teammates when he punctured?  I mean, he’s the team leader!  The team’s entire job is to support him, but not a single-dingle one of them was anywhere to be found.  Why should their stupidity be softened by race officials willing to leave basic rules unenforced?

Besides, when you let non-teammates help out, you’re turning the sport into a popularity contest. That’s not what the sport is supposed to be.  I was talking with a friend about this a few days ago, and he said, “Remember when Cadel Evans flatted in the Vuelta and lost gobs of time waiting for the team car?  He’s standing just off the road watching everybody pass him by.  Nobody gave him a wheel, probably because he has that high-pitched voice and the lap-dog, but is that fair?”

I’m also fine with the Porte penalty because it makes a nice cautionary tale.  The officials didn’t actually see the illegal wheel change, but discovered it because minutes after the race a photo of it circulated over the Internet, being endlessly tweeted and retweeted and retwitted, even by Porte himself. I’m going to tell my kids, “Whenever you see a pal with a camera, DUCK!”

The breakaway is as good as caught.  Just a handful of seconds as the racers make their way at blistering speed across this flat section. 

Contador is going for a time bonus!  An Astana guy is fighting him for it!  But Contador’s totally got it!  Man, he’s leaving nothing to chance.  Contador is already 2:28 up on Aru in the GC; is way stronger; and doesn’t really have any legitimate challenger beyond that.  Currently third on GC is Andrey Amador (Movistar Team), whom I’ve never heard of in my life.  Uran won’t be fourth at the end of today.  The GC battle is getting pretty dull.

You know how the race officials should handle all the complaints about their penalty for Porte?  They should completely turn it around and say, “Hey, when it comes to draconian decision, we’re just getting going!  To make this race more exciting, we’re going to make Contador do the rest of the race while holding a tennis ball in his mouth.  And Astana has to give over one of its riders to Saxo-Tinkoff!”

They’re showing Ryder Hesjedal now.  He’s wearing some seriously micky-mouse sunglasses, a sartorial decision so distracting I can’t tell whether he’s off the front or off the back. 

It’s got to be hard for team managers.  Astana’s got six riders in the lead group, and yet my money is on Contador today, to beat them all, and possibly even win the stage.  Which means Astana’s looking at their doping budget and saying, “The worse these guys do, the more dope they’re getting.  It’s like we’re rewarding mediocrity!  Maybe we should make them earn their drugs.  But of course, they can’t win clean.  It’s a real conundrum.”

Hesjedal is definitely off the back, over a minute behind the lead group.

Man, this grade is insane!  Astana continues drilling it.  The lead group has shrunk considerably. I do see Kruijswijk in there, who rode well in stage 8, but he’s like 11 minutes down on the GC.  Maybe he’ll climb into the top ten today if he stays in contact.

Aru is right on Contador’s wheel. He’s wearing one of those silly nose strips that’s supposed to help his breathing.  You know what?  If those things really worked, you’d see American masters racers using them. These are the guys who read studies about everything.  There’s just something so Euro about being unscientific.  Fricking snake oil.

Man, the lead group is down to eight guys!  Amador is in there. Kruijswijk is still there too, sitting on the back, looking pretty miserable.  I think it’s pretty silly to see a group of eight, with three out of the front four guys all on Astana.  It’s like US Postal all over again.  There hasn’t been a non-Astana guy on the front since Contador’s time-bonus sprint. 

The others in this group are Jurgen Van den Broeck (Lotto Soudal), currently fifth on GC; Carlos Betancur (AG2R La Mondiale), way down in 27th; Kruijswijk; and Leopold Konig (Team Sky), down in 10th; and Yury Trofimov (Team Katusha), all the way down in 54th on GC.  It’ll be a great day for a few of these guys, anyway.  I could try to figure out who the Astana guys are, but do you care?  I don’t.  Okay, I’ll tell you one of them is Mikel Landa, sitting 7th on GC.  Presumably Dario Cataldo (sitting 6th) is there.

Landa attacks!  Contador is right on there.  But Aru is dropped!  Astana’s teamwork, lauded all morning by the announcers, is overrated, I think.  Landa has set up Contador perfectly—and here it is, Contador attacks!  The group is shattered!  With 2.5 km to go, there doesn’t seem to be any group left.  It’s all Contador now, they’re just pulling away!  It’s getting really steep.  Okay, now Aru makes it back, along with ... wow, Aru attacks!  Maybe he was rope-a-doping!  But it’s not too much of an attack, Contador is right on him.

Landa attacks!  Contador jumps right on him.  I cannot imagine what Astana’s strategy is.  It’s like one after another of them are helping Contador spank Aru. It’s not like Contador even needs to respond to these attacks; he’s got almost 5 minutes on Landa.   So to see him react to every attack must just be psychologically devastating to Aru.

Contador is saying something to Aru. We can only guess what.  “That all you got, beyotch?”

Trofimov is trying to solo, and the commentators have nothing to say about this.  Either they didn’t catch his name, or consider his effort hopeless.

Landa attacks!  Just in time for my feed to freeze!  

Contador is finally just hanging back!  Landa is hauling ass!  He’s overtaking Trofimov!  He’s all alone!  He’s got the win!

Trofimov hangs in for second, and Contador slips in for third, picking up a time bonus and thus padding his lead over Aru—and, more importantly, further demoralizing him.

Man, the peloton was just blown to bits today.  Riders are coming over the line one by one.

Landa is being interviewed.  Nothing he’s saying is very interesting.  What I really want to know is whether or not he, Landa, used to be a soap opera star.  He really looks like a soap opera star, doesn’t he?  This is a major compliment for a bike racer, by the way.  So many of them look like they were in sci-fi movies before turning to cycling.

Oh, geez, they’re going to interview Juan Antonio Flecha endlessly now.  “Do you think these riders get chapped lips?” / “Yes, in all likelihood they do.  When I was racing as a pro, I myself did often have chapped lips.”  / “Are they allowed to use Chapstick?”  /  “Yes, but not Carmex.” /  “I see that a rider won the race today. Is that typical, for somebody to win?” / “Yes, you see that a lot in this sport.”  / “Do you think Landa went faster than the others?” / “Yes, that seems to have been his tactic.” / “Do you think it’s okay for you to wear a pink button-down shirt for every one of these interviews?”  / “Yes, I am very secure in my masculinity.”

Leopold Konig moves up to 5th in the GC today and will be the new team leader.  Porte, meanwhile, will be made to fetch his slippers and fluff his pillow.

Landa is getting his podium kisses but doesn’t look very happy about it.  Perhaps he’s thinking, “My wife is going to be pissed.”

Well, I could hang around and watch Aru get his white jersey for best young rider, and listen to Flecha say insightful things like, “Yes, Aru is young, and he is fast, and that is why he gets to wear a white jersey,” but I really have to micturate.  Thanks for tuning in!

Biased Blow-By-Blow, Vuelta a España 2014, Stage 20

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.

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.

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.