Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2025 Vuelta a España Stage 14

Introduction

The Vuelta a España is kind of the Dr. McCoy of the three Grand Tours, with the Tour de France being Kirk and the Giro d’Italia being Spock. That’s why the Vuelta might seem grumpy. (Dang, this metaphor is already starting to get away from me.) This race usually isn’t the boring blowout that the Tour is, and with Tadej Pogacar—a rider so dominant he’s the first one I mention when he’s not even here—not here, it’s actually an exciting race, with less than a minute separating the top two contenders. If you haven’t been following this Vuelta, check out my coverage of Stage 9 last week, and as I give you this biased blow-by-blow I’ll gradually catch you up on the stages in between.

What do I mean by “biased”? I’m not a journalist, I’m not neutral, and I tell it how it is, which either means pointing out obvious doping—which so far I happily haven’t noted in this Vuelta—and poor behavior of any kind.

Vuelta a España Stage 14 – Avilés to La Farrapona/Lagos de Somiedo

As I join the action, there’s a very large breakaway a little over five minutes ahead of the red jersey group. There are about 60 kilometers (35 miles) to go, meaning the riders still have two major climbs ahead. The commentators on my Peacock coverage, Christian Van de Velde and Bob Roll, are talking about a heroic feat achieved by Victor Campenaerts (Team Visma – Lease A Bike) today, which was to bridge up to this breakaway mostly by himself, scooping up Gijs Leeimreize (Team Picnic-PostNL) in the process. Actually Campenaerts had been in the break but punctured and lost almost two minutes and had to chase back on. This last detail I gleaned from cyclingnews.com and their blow-by-blow report. Which begs two questions: 1) am I cheating? and 2) why wouldn’t you just read the cyclingnews coverage, instead of this? Answers: 1) yes, of course, and 2) because they don’t give updates often enough, and they don’t even try to be funny. Whether or not I make you laugh, I will always try, which means you can silently mock me when I fail. Which is even better than laughing.

So, who is Gijs Leeimreize, and how do you pronounce his name? And, will I continue with this question-plus-response format? Answers: 1) who knows, I’ve never heard of him; 2) I have no idea but I’m guessing it’s pronounced “jizz”; and 3) yes, probably.

Imagine going through life with a name like “jizz” in a country where pretty much everybody is fluent in English. That can’t be easy. No wonder this athlete is so driven.

With about 52 kilometers (32 miles) to go, the breakaway is on the foothills of the fearsome Puertu de San Llaurienzu, a Category 1 climb. Here’s the profile of that bad boy.

The breakaway has 6:25, which is starting to look like a big enough gap to produce the race’s winner. It’s a pretty big group, two dozen souls, almost all of them complete nobodies (which is why they’ve been allowed to go up the road like this). There are only two riders in this group I’ve heard of before: Campenaerts and Marc Soler (UAE Team Emirates-XRG). These two are heavy hitters whose main job is to support their team leader. For Campenaerts that means supporting the current GC leader of the race, Jonas Vingegaard, and for Soler it means Joao Almeida, who sits second, only 46 seconds behind Vingegaard. So what are these two domestiques doing up in this breakaway? Well, I’ve been waiting for one of these commentators to use the word “satellite,” and bingo—one just did.

What is a satellite rider? It’s a rider who has achieved such a high speed he’s gone into low earth orbit and will probably be purchased by Elon Musk, possibly in a hostile takeover. Ow! Damn! My fact-checker just punched me in the neck! No sense of humor, that guy. (Full disclosure: I have no fact checker.) Actually, “satellite rider” is one of these  terms that the American announcers have invented and that they use so often, we viewers are expected to know what they’re talking about. This is a big step forward, mind you, from the early days of cycling coverage when the viewer was assumed to know nothing, and commentators would explain things like, “Near the finish line everyone will go even faster. This is called a ‘sprint.’” I am not making that up, and you could call it mansplaining except it was the former Olympic champ Connie Carpenter who actually said it. Anyway, other terms these American announcers have come up with are “daylight,” “back on terms,” and “the cat is among the pigeons,” all of which I will explain in due time, after I (finally) tell you what “satellite” means and how it pertains to this situation.

But wait, something is actually happening on the road! They’re interviewing Sepp Kuss (Team Visma – Lease A Bike). Or, rather, they’re playing a previously recorded interview with him, which arrangement they don’t bother to explain. How confusing this sport must be to the newcomer, who is already confused by all these strange terms and is now looking at a rider just standing there while a race is on. The newb must be like, wait, did they get this guy to stop and stand in the road for a bit to do this interview? And then the rest of the racers have to go around this cameraman? Is that even safe? Anyway, here’s the interview.

INTERVIEWER: Today is another big mountain day. Will you get the victory Jonas tried to get yesterday?

KUSS: Do you mean will I get the victory? Or do you mean Jonas?

INTERVIEWER: I don’t know. Either, I guess. I confess I didn’t really plan what to ask you; a staffer was just running around trying to find a friendly person willing to be interviewed, and came up with you.

KUSS: Friendly? Me? Really? Did he say I was friendly?

INTERVIEWER: Not in so many words, but yeah, he must have decided you seemed friendly.

KUSS: I ask because not everybody thinks I’m friendly. I try to be, but my girlfriend’s BFF said I was kind of a dick. Which my girlfriend decided was worth bringing up to me.

INTERVIEWER: What’s going on? How did I get here?

KUSS: I have no idea. This is the weirdest Vuelta stage ever.

If you’re new to albertnet, I guess I should disclose that I don’t try very hard to capture these interviews verbatim, especially when they’re boring, which they typically are. I’m forced to invent things, such as everything you just read other than the opening question. Kuss’s actual response was some roundabout way of saying, “We’ll try.”

Gianmarco Garofoli (Soudal-QuickStep) attacks the breakaway, quickly establishing a huge gap. This doesn’t warrant an exclamation mark because he has no chance, no hope.

See? Look at this, mere moments later: the breakaway has reassembled itself, loosely, though a handful have fallen off and will gradually get scooped up by the peloton.

Okay, so, a satellite rider is a domestique who gets into a breakaway so that when his team leader needs his help, he can just drop back and provide it. Since dropping back means loafing, he’ll be pretty fresh and can then bury himself for his leader. This is a lot more feasible than a domestique who’s been sucking wind on the back just trying to keep up who is now expected to go to the front and put the hammer down (or whatever else his leader needs). Why does this satellite tactic work, when presumably the breakaway riders had to work pretty hard to be in the breakaway in the first place? Simple: politics. Breakaways gain time when the peloton is loafing. So it’s circumstance, not heroics, that lead to their big gap over the field. (Note that there is brutal work involved in establishing the breakaway, and in the case of Campenaerts, catching back up after his bike problem.)

With about two kilometers (1.2 miles) to go on this climb, the GC group has shrunk to maybe a dozen riders, with UAE Team Emirates-XRG driving the pace on the front. Leading is Juan Ayuso, which is somewhat remarkable because it’s really the first time he’s actually worked for his team leader, Almeida. Ayuso will be leaving this team after this season and has evidently lost his desire to support it, riding instead for himself (to good effect, it must be said, as he’s won two stages). He’s gotten a lot of well-deserved bad press for this, and maybe he finally read the memo. (Do you like what I did just there? Tweaked the cliché to be “read the memo,” suggesting it’s been sitting on his desk the whole time? You won’t get that on cyclingnews.) Just behind Ayuso in this group is Jay Vine, in the silly polka-dot KOM jersey and (unfortunately) matching shorts. Vine won a stage here in truly badass fashion and gave a great interview afterward … I really like that guy.

So here’s what’s happened since Stage 9 (i.e., since my last report). Stage 10, which featured a Category 1 mountaintop finish, is the one Vine won, solo. In stage 11, a lumpy circuit starting and finishing in Bilbao, Vingegaard and the rider sitting third overall, Tom Pidcock (Q36.5 Pro Cycling Team), broke away together and it looked like a very exciting showdown was brewing until a bunch of damn protesters wouldn’t get out of the road and the officials had to end the stage early, taking everyone’s time with three kilometers to go. (Needless to say the protestors had zero influence on the world affairs they’re concerned about.)

The breakaway is over the summit of this penultimate climb. It’s down to ten riders. I can’t get a good photo because I’m too slow on the draw. Peacock, in addition to showing endless ads (for products I will now boycott, on principle), blocks screen grabs. An anonymous commenter on my last post suggested I switch to a monthly FloBikes plan (requiring a VPN that makes it look like I’m in Canada), and I might investigate that, but a) I already paid for Peacock and am the world’s cheapest man, and b) that sounds like a lot of hassle. On the other hand, this commenter added, “No ads and you can join me in speculation about whether Hannah Walker and Koen de Kort are an item.” That certainly sweetens the pot.

The GC group (what’s left of it, that is) crests the summit, just a little over three minutes behind now.

Getting back to my recap, Stage 12 had a couple big climbs, and Ayuso broke away with Javier Romo (Movistar Team). If Romo took the stage it’d be the first for his Spanish team in years, but at the end Ayuso outsprinted him pretty easily. Then, yesterday, on the queen stage of this Vuelta that finished atop the fearsome beyond-category Angliru climb, Almeida and Vingegaard broke away, with Vingegaard sitting on Almeida’s wheel the entire way, as poker-faced as a mannequin. Almeida took the stage with absolutely no victory salute because it was a sketchy finish stretch and he was completely knackered. He took some bonus seconds and shrank his gap to Vingegaard in the GC. And then it was now.

This is amazing: I’ve seen more ads during the two weeks of this Vuelta than cumulatively all year. It’s like five minutes of coverage, then five minutes of ads. Maybe I will look into this FloBikes thing. In the current ad, some redneck-looking football player is sitting on a deer in a living room eating Little Caesar’s pizza with some fans. Weirdly, the pizza doesn’t even look good in the ad. Couldn’t they use CGI to make it more appetizing? This will be an easy boycott for me.

With 20 kilometers (12.4 miles) to go, Ayuso goes out the back. At least he did his job today and can feel good about that. When Almeida won yesterday, it must have felt weird for Ayuso at dinner, not getting to celebrate with the others because he hadn’t helped. Maybe that’s why he finally stepped it up today.

The breakaway is on the final climb. Everyone is grinding away at a steady pace right now so I’ll define some more of these made-up American commentator cycling terms. “Daylight” simply means a gap big enough that you can see daylight through it, which isn’t really that descriptive (though it alludes to how closely these riders draft one another). I would say “getting some daylight” isn’t among the most useful cycling terms we have, but I suppose it engenders camaraderie between the announcers to throw it around together. “Back on terms” simply means to catch up and regain the pace of a group you’d been briefly dropped from, and I can’t even hazard a guess as to its etymology. It reminds me of a frequent feature of my horoscope when I was a teenager, when the astrologer, Omar, would advise me, “Define terms.” What did it mean? I never knew.

With 17 kilometers (10.6 miles) to go, two riders have attacked the breakaway and have—wait for it—daylight!

It’s Soler and Johannes Staune-Mittet (Decathlon AG2R La Mondiale Team). Hard to see what their gap is but—wow, look at this, Soler accelerates again, and drops Staune-Mitttet!

At some point Campenaerts dropped back to the GC group, and now he’s fetching bottles for his teammates. In terms of the satellite metaphor you might say he’s splashed down.

Soler continues his solo effort, his hips rocking like he’s some kind of dancer. Kind of an odd looking rider, honestly. Gangly. He has no bottles and nobody to bring them right now.

I thought once the final climb was underway I’d get respite from the ads. But it’s yet another commercial intermission, this time an ad for the Ryder Cup, some golfing event I was already boycotting (because it’s surely much less interesting than, say, a documentary about how golf balls are made).

This final climb is a beast. Not as steep as the last one, but hella long:

I can’t see how this is a very smart move for Soler. First of all, he’s probably doomed, because once the GC battle gets going, that three minutes isn’t likely to be enough. Second, he ought to be focusing all his effort on supporting Almeida, who will need all the help he can get to unseat Vingegaard. Third, given his own well-earned reputation for riding for himself instead of his team (famously, in a 2019 Vuelta stage when he was on Movistar and threw a tantrum when told to sit up) and within the political climate of his team, he should be extra careful about looking selfish. So by the end it may well be a case of trying—if not failing—to do the wrong thing. So I’ll employ another commentators’ cliché: it’s like dogs and cats living together. (Okay, no Peacock announcer has ever said that. It was Bill Murray.)

With 10 kilometers (6 miles) to go, the GC group is still at steady tempo, with Vine on the front. More and more breakaway riders have been diapered (to coin a new cycling term of my own).

Soler takes a bottle from his team car. Depending on how organized the team staff is, that bottle may contain a powerful laxative, to put the self-serving rider in his place.

Peacock now shows two Capital One ads in a row. Can they do that? I wish I could boycott this bank twice. Fortunately, Peacock isn’t advertising its own coverage of this race. That would present quite a conundrum.

Who knows, maybe the UAE team management is on board with this move. (After all, their director, Mauro Gianetti, is a complete maniac.) Maybe they’re thinking hey, we’re already known as a cesspool of infighting, we might as well go all-in with that. It’s pretty funny to see Soler off the front while his team leads the chase group behind. Of course they’re not really chasing, but just setting up Almeida for a big attack. So … if Almeida “gets daylight” on Vingegaard, then will Soler drop back?

Given how awesome a rider Vingegaard is, it does seem unlikely Almeida could actually beat him in the GC, but then Almeida is fresher because didn’t ride the whole Tour de France this year (having had to abandon after a crash), and you never know when a relatively young rider like him will find a new level. And yesterday, he put down such a high pace, Vingegaard couldn’t do anything. The Dane might not have shown it, but he must have been on the rivet. Almeida well deserves the full sacrifice of every teammate, like Vingegaard has been getting. (Not that his team has always done the right thing…)

Vine pulls off and it looks like he’s done for the day, cooked.

Felix Großschartner is taking up the effort for UAE. He has the hardest name to type in all of cycling. Most of the time when I see it onscreen it is represented as “Grossschartner.”

I opine, to my online correspondent, that I think Soler is being kind of an idiot. My correspondent replies, “UAE are dipshits.” I have to agree. They should call Soler back because even if he does get this stage win, he’ll be too fried from the effort to support Almeida very well in the final week. UAE needs to run their tactics as though Almeida actually had a chance. It can’t be good for his morale to have the team authorizing all these stage win efforts.

Vingegaard has two teammates with him, Kuss and Ben Tulett. Whoa, maybe I spoke too soon … Tulett is now blowing chunks at the back. (That is a standard cycling term, but not one these commentators ever use, oddly enough.)

They keep showing the gap between Soler and his next closest chaser. Which is totally irrelevant. What’s the gap to the GC group?

OMG, look at this climb.

Back in the GC group, Giulio Pellizzari (Red Bull – Bora – Hansgrohe) is driving on the front for his leader, Jai Hindley, who rode really well yesterday and sits fourth on GC, three minutes behind Vingegaard.

Presumably Hindley will attack soon. I’m surprised Almeida hasn’t. Once one guy makes a big move, though, this détente should finally get blown to bits. I long for that.

And there it is, Hindley busts a move!

Only Vingegaard and Almeida can respond! Hindley is flying! He’s left Pidcock in the dust and may overhaul him on GC!

Wow, we’re closer to the finish than I thought. Soler approaches the line and has now got the stage win. He does a weird victory salute where it looks like he’s trying to nibble his friendship bracelet. Maybe trying to chew it off, because Almeida gave him the bracelet and Soler knows they’re not friends anymore?

The GC group comes in not long after. Vingeegard and Almeida duke it out for second!

Vingegaard takes the sprint and another few bonus seconds.

Almeida needed to take time today, not lose it. It’s hard to know what the UAE leaders are thinking, if they even are.

Here’s the stage result. Kind of remarkable how close the top ten was, given this hard a stage it was and this far into the Vuelta.

Soler gives an interview.

INTERVIEWER: We are 14 stages into this Vuelta, and UAE have won seven of them.

SOLER: Unbelievable. I cannot explain. Fifty percent of the stages we’ve won, so, yeah.

INTERVIEWER [withdraws, without asking a single additional question. Presumably he only collared Soler to settle a bet: is this big dumb jock able to do arithmetic?]

Tomorrow’s stage has a couple categorized climbs but they’re in the first half, so it most likely won’t be an important GC day. And here is the new GC.

Check it out, three Americans in the top 10! It’s been an interesting fight for the white jersey of best young rider, with Pellizzari and Matthew Riccitello in virtual lockstep, finishing sixth and seventh today and staying just over 30 seconds apart on GC.

Here is Soler on his phone, probably ordering some Little Caesar’s pizza.

As a special treat, Vingegaard, when getting his red jersey, gets to interact with a podium girl, the first I’ve seen in this Vuelta.

Now Vingegaard poses with the former Spanish champion Sammy Sanchez.

Instead of flowers, Vingegaard gets a stuffed bull. I wonder if it has testicles. Probably not. So it’s technically a steer. Why give a rider a stuffed steer? There’s no such thing as steerfighting, no Running of the Steers. This animal represents nothing, expect perhaps castration. Is that any way to honor the race leader?

They interview Vingegaard.

INTERVIEWER: So, is today’s second place sweeter than yesterday’s?

VINGEGAARD: No, second place is never sweet.

INTERVIEWER: How would you describe the flavor, then?

VINGEGAARD: It’s a complex flavor, redolent of gauze and young moss, that initially caressed my tongue, but then took an unexpected detour into light fizz, like fermented peaches at a salad bar, with just a hint of bong water.

INTERVIEWER: So not such a good taste, then. How do you think the victory tasted for Soler today?

VINGEGAARD: Sweet as honey, of course, but the taste in his team’s mouth must be like hard, bitter scab.

INTERVIEWER: Who eats scabs?

VINGEGAARD: Exactly.

I somehow missed Soler’s podium ceremony. That’s okay. I’m tired of that guy.

And with that, my coverage is almost complete. All that’s left is, as promised, to define the last US-commentator-buzzphrase: “The cat is among the pigeons.” To be honest, until Bob Roll said it today, I’d never actually heard it. Looking it up, I see “throw the cat among the pigeons” is a British phrase describing an outsider causing a disturbance. I’m delighted to discover there’s a similar expression in Dutch, “De knuppel in het hoenderhok gooien,” which literally translates “Throwing the bat into the chicken shed.” I love it. Who has ever done such a thing and what would a bat even do among chickens? Granted, a bat is a predator, but chickens are so much larger! But then, if it’s a vampire bat? I’m going to start using that expression constantly.

For various reasons, I probably won’t cover next Saturday’s final mountain stage, but you should check back here anyway. There will surely be something for you to read.

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Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2021 Tour de France Stage 9

Introduction

What would it take for a modern bike race announcer to cry bullshit on an obviously Not Natural performance? Let’s just say a lot … because nobody spoke up when Mark Padun, a previously unheard of rider on Bahrain-Victorious, won back-to-back mountain stages of the Critérium du Dauphiné recently without any visible effort, soloing away from everyone and increasing his lead with every pedal stroke. This looked particularly fishy to me because other relative nobodies on the same Bahrain-Victorious team, Gino Mäder, Damiano Caruso, and Jan Tratnik, had done amazing things in the Giro just before. None of the announcers said anything then, either. So these talking heads are professional to the core, even when it means helping to perpetuate a sham.

Well, don’t worry, I’m completely unprofessional. And I’m here to report on the second major mountain stage of the Tour de France without biting my tongue.

Tour de France Stage 9 – Cluses to Tignes

As I join the action, Wout Poels (Bahrain-Victorious, speak of the devil!) is solo, looking to increase his lead in the KOM competition. He was fifth yesterday but sits 8:51 down on GC. Going after him is Nairo Quintana (Team Arkea-Samsic) who’s having a terrible—for him—Tour, sitting almost 24 minutes down. They’re just under a kilometer from the summit of the Category 1 Col des Saisies (literally translated, “Climb of Sissies”).

Quintana is chasing hard, evidently looking to get some KOM points. Between that and stage wins, he can have no other Tour ambitions this year.

Ooh, it’s a close sprint!

Poels slows to put on a jacket and Quintana just plunges forward. Wow, Quintana is going so fast, his numbers are blowing right off his jersey. They’re in tatters!

Joining me in the studio today is my co-commentator, Freya. She is noteworthy in the race coverage media for having even less to say than Sean Kelly.

As they descend, I might as well start the uncomfortable conversation about the leader of this race, Tadaj Pogacar (UAE Team Emirates). My skepticism was kindled during last year’s Tour when this guy came out of nowhere to destroy everyone in the final time trial. It was bad enough that he took massive time from Primoz Roglic (Team Jumbo-Visma), enough to leapfrog him for the GC victory, but he won the stage against time trial specialists including Roglic’s teammate Tom Dumoulin who’d previously won the world TT championship on a very similar course. Well, this year Pogacar pulled off a similar feat, absolutely pummeling everyone in the first time trial. It wasn’t a climber’s course, but a lumpy one that favored rolleurs like Stefan Kung (Groupama-FDJ), who held the lead for something like an hour until Pogacar came through. When a GC rider who climbs amazingly well can beat the TT specialists at their own game, I get a bit suspicious. And then, yesterday, Pogacar walked away from the GC group way before the finish and gave them such a spanking, they’ve probably already given up on this Tour. I’m more than a little skeptical about this guy.

Now the leaders of this stage have come back together as they begin the toughest climb of the day, the Huis Categorie Col du Pré, 12.5 km in length at an average grade of 7.7%. Sergio Higuita (EF Education-Nippo) hands Quintana a bottle.

The riders are allowed to share food and water, but they can’t loan each other equipment or, oddly enough, money. (Yeah, I made up that last factoid.)

Poels has somehow fallen off the pace and dangles off the back of the breakaway. The way he’s sitting up, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d just been messing with his phone. Typical.

This is Michael Woods (Israel Start-up Nation) trying to chase down the leaders. He does a lot of this … falling off a group, clawing his way back, lather-rinse-repeat.

They’re showing an interview they did this morning with Ben O’Connor of the AG2R team.

INTERVIEWER: How do you like your chances today, Bun?

O’CONNOR: My name is Ben, not Bun.

INTERVIEWER: Sorry!

O’CONNOR: Why are you even interviewing me? You’ve obviously never even heard of me and I’m way down in 14th place on GC.

INTERVIEWER: We have to interview everybody, so that whoever it is who does something remarkable in the stage, we can then show an interview with him even as the action unfolds. Makes us look prescient.

O’CONNOR: I am a professional athlete. I don’t know big words like “prescient.”

INTERVIEWER: It means prophetic.

O’CONNOR: Who are you callin’ pathetic?!

INTERVIEWER: Not pathetic, prophetic!

O’CONNOR: Whatever, dude.

Yeah, yeah, I made all that up … sue me.

So here are your breakaway leaders … I love it when they provide the names so I don’t have to.

Thanks to the miracle of modern technology, we have more stats than ever about the various climbs and descents. For example, we can now see who’s braking the most.

Very soon, they’ll be able to share these riders’ Amazon shopping preferences as well. It’ll be like a gift registry!

In case you haven’t been following this Tour, I’ll take a moment to fill you in on the race so far. Stage 1 went to Julian Alaphilippe (Deceuninck-Quick Step) who soloed. The big news on the stage was a massive crash caused by a dumbass fan holding a giant cardboard sign out in the road. Stage 2 was Mathieu van der Poel (Alpecin-Fenix), who took the yellow jersey and kept it until yesterday. The third stage went to Tim Merlier (Alpecin-Fenix) after a spectacular crash in the final sprint that ended the Tour for Caleb Ewan (Lotto Soudal), who had been a favorite for the green jersey. Also in Stage 3, last year’s Tour runner-up, Primoz Roglic (Team Jumbo-Visma) crashed hard on his butt and lost 1:21, not to mention most of his form. Stage 4 saw a spectacular win by Mark Cavendish—his first in years, after he was only added to the Tour team at the last minute—following which his entire team and their staff were in tears. Stage 5 was the time trial I mentioned where Pogacar made everyone look like chumps, with the closest GC favorite, Roglic, 44 seconds behind and the next closest, Richie Porte (Ineos Grenadiers), a whopping 55 seconds back.

Wow, the conditions are just brutal today. Riding with wet feet is no fun and racing the Tour in these conditions, with your paycheck on the line, has to bring a serious pucker-factor.

Back in the GC group, the UAE Team Emirates guys drive tempo for Pogacar, obviously.

Returning to my recap, Cavendish triumphed again in Stage 6, padding his lead in the green jersey competition.  Stage 7 featured five minor climbs, and was unexpectedly exciting when a large breakaway took major time out of Pogacar’s UAE team. The stage was won by Matej Mohoric who dragged the break along for dozens of miles and then soloed away like it was nothing. He took the stage, the combativity award, and the KOM jersey, and was bounding on and off the podium like the Energizer bunny, while Van der Poel, who’d buried himself to keep the yellow jersey, could barely sit up for his interview. The next stage, yesterday, was also won solo by a Bahrain-Victorious rider, Dylan Teuns, who also showed no perceptible effort. Which brings us to today.

Now, in the chase group, Sepp Kuss (Team Jumbo-Visma) attacks!

What’s he hearing on his radio? Could be “Slow down, you fool, you’re a domestique and your leaders are behind you!” Kuss’s most promising teammate is the young Jonas Vingegaard, who started the day in fifth overall, exactly five minutes down on Pogacar and only 22 seconds out of third.

Looking back at the GC group, Jumbo-Visma’s Wout Van Aert, who sits second overall on GC less than two minutes behind Pogacar, is struggling at the back. He’s not really a GC type and I think everyone knew his podium position wouldn’t last.

The announcers are now interviewing Matt White, directeur sportif of DS-Bike Exchange, whose top rider, Simon Yates, is over 12 minutes down.

INTERVIEWER: Is the GC battle essentially over already?

WHITE: Of course it is. Why would you even ask me that?

INTERVIEWER: Isn’t your attitude a bit defeatist?

WHITE: Hey, you asked! What did you expect me to say?

INTERVIEWER: Are you actually saying any of these things?

WHITE: No, it’s just some blogger making shit up. As usual.

In the breakaway, Quintana attacks!

Now the footage swings over to the GC group where Miguel Angelo Lopez, aka Superman (Movistar Team), goes out the back. He’s having a terrible Tour, over 26 minutes down at the start of today. Maybe he’s riding on of those new Kryptonite frames.

Only Woods can hang with Quintana.

I take it back. Nobody can hang with Quintana!

Daaaamn! He’s totally dusting these guys!

At least they’ve got each other.

Quintana’s eyes have got that dead look in them, as though he’s seen so many horrors he’s just become kind of inured to them.

Quintana takes the KOM points (all 20 of them, this being an HC climb) so he’s now in the hunt for the polka-dot jersey if he can keep this up.

Now Higuita has dropped the other two, perhaps by accident. I hate it when that happens.

Less than 2 km later, they’re back together. But what’s this? Quintana has decided he’s too hot! He’s stripping down completely! He’s lost his mind!

Okay, I guess I misread the situation. Probably his jersey had a bunch of tags in it, with washing instructions in fifteen different languages, and they were irritating the sensitive skin along his midsection. I can relate. Now he gets a fresh jacket, and is asking for some tater tots.

Denied! Quintana, though a world-class athlete, has to settle for some random room-temperature food wrapped in foil.

They’re on the Category 2 Cormet de Roseland. Fun fact: this climb is named after the girl that Romeo had the hots for before meeting Juliet.

O’Connor sits up and struggles mightily to pull on some full-finger gloves right over his soaked cycling gloves. Note how blurry the photo is .. that’s because these guys are so cold, they’re trembling.

Quintana is like, “Hey, great idea! I want gloves too!” O’Connor is making very little progress gloving up. But he’s tenacious.

Higuita’s sunglasses are terrible. Just terrible. Seems like they ought to have a snorkel attached. They’re spoiling his entire look (which was pretty lame to begin with, what with the Pepto-Bismol-pink jersey).

Poor Woods, having yo-yo’d off the back of the break all day, is now in that stalled phase where the yo-yo stops coming back up. He’ll need to be completely rewound.

On the descent, Higuita dusts Quintana and O’Connor. Quintana goes after him.

Now it’s just Higuita and Quintana. Not sure where O’Connor is.

OMG! Back in the GC group, one of Pogacar’s teammates goes off-road!

He flips over the bars! Hopefully it’s a soft landing.

Quintana has taken a feed, but now goes back to the support car. “I don’t want this gel!” he shouts, thrusting out the offensive packet. “I want hot tater tots!”

I’m hearing that the UAE rider who crashed is Brandon McNulty. I sure hope he’s okay. Not just because he’s an American, by the way. As a human being, and a cyclist.

O’Connor is closing up the gap to the leaders.

Back in the GC group, Vingegaard punctures. He’s got no teammates to help. I have no idea what happened to Kuss. (Same thing yesterday … he was in the break, and then just vanished, losing major time by the end of the stage.)

And now O’Connor has caught the leading duo.

Here’s the climb profile … it’s a long one. O’Connor takes a bunch of gels from his team car.

Vingegaard catches back on to the GC group.

Here’s the chase group. The announcers haven’t said anything about them all day. I don’t know who they are other than Guillaume Martin (Cofidis) who sits 12th on GC, 7:28 back.

OMG, Quintana suddenly cracks! Maybe he bonked. He takes a drink … maybe it’s something sugary.

Pogacar has one teammate handling the chasing duties as Ineos Grenadiers sucks major wheel.

The weather improves a bit as the leading due start the final climb.

Pogacar loves the limelight. He’s so happy to be on camera, he offers the cameraman a gift. “Here. Take my jacket. It’s yours! I mean it! I want you to have it.”

He’s pretty relaxed for a guy who is 7:19 behind the lead group, whose leader is within a minute of taking over the GC lead.

Up in the breakaway, Higuita starts to really suffer and asks O’Connor to push him. O’Connor is like, “Yeah, sure dude!”

O’Connor is such a nice guy. I hope he increases his lead over Pogacar, though that would be pretty hard to do while pushing another rider up the hill. Not to be a dick or anything, but I kind of have to question O’Connor’s tactics. Oh well … he’s young and eager to make friends in the peloton. This is his first Tour, in fact.

So, here’s some news from the announcers: Roglic and Van der Poel have abandoned. Obviously Roglic is suffering from his crash injuries, but why would Van der Poel quit? Well, some are saying he had a bad acid trip last night. Look at this picture he tweeted:

O’Connor attacks Higuita! I guess he decided if he had to push him along the whole way it just wasn’t a true partnership anymore. He opens the gap up so quickly, I couldn’t get a nice shot of the attack.

O’Connor gets yet another gel. This guy eats even more than I do!

Alas, O’Connor’s gap to Pogacar is dropping all the time, and Pogacar is still just being paced by his teammates. It would be nice to see the yellow jersey change hands but I don’t see that happening.

Here is Higuita, valiantly chasing. He’s just a little guy.

The UAE rider who crashed is Brandon McNulty. He’s back in the race but I don’t know where.

Oh dear, Guillaume Martin has a bike problem. He gets a fresh bike. The thru-axles on these modern wheels mean that wheel changes are a thing of the past.

Amazingly enough, O’Connor is actually taking his lead back out. He was at like seven minutes and now he’s got 7:30. Must be the gels!

It’ll be a shame when Pogacar gets bored sitting around behind his teammates and lights it up.

The GC group is down to a couple dozen guys, with Ineos well represented. They kind of suck this year, which I take some comfort in. It doesn’t actually bother me a bit that they’re not thriving, though a solid attack would sure liven things up.

Pogacar’s domestique Davide Formolo is doing a great job, as he did yesterday. He makes the best faces.

Quintana has caught and dropped Higuita. Seems to be managing his efforts pretty well. He’s got a minute on his chasers; if he hangs on, he’ll probably have the KOM jersey tonight.

Ineos takes the front and immediately the gap to O’Connor starts to come down. I guess they have to try. Their top rider, Richard Carapaz, sits sixth on GC, five minutes down. He’s attacked a fair bit in this Tour but it never comes to anything … he’s just wasted a lot of energy for nothing.

In the chase group, Mattia Cattaneo (Deceuninck-QuickStep) attacks and starts narrowing the gap to Quintana rather quickly.

Geraint Thomas (Ineos Granadiers) leads the chase, setting up Carapaz I guess. It’s pretty annoying that they’re just setting tempo, when Pogacar’s team is gone. It’s like they’re helping Pogacar pull back O’Connor. Why won’t they attack?! There’s no point waiting around … they’ve got five minutes to make up.

O’Connor still looks good, but he’s clearly suffering.

Cattaneo blows straight past Quintana, without even saying hi. I guess he’s just letting him die in peace.

With just 600 meters left on this climb, O’Connor’s directeur sportif yells at him from the car. What is he saying? It’s probably encouragement, but he could be yelling, “Take yellow today or you’re fired!” Or maybe “Hey, Ben, your fly is open!” Maybe this guy is a real card. We really know nothing about him.

Carapaz attacks but it’s useless! Pogacar stitches it up instantly and then counterattacks!

His gap yawns open grotesquely, instantly, inevitably.

O’Connor has got the win!

He claps his hands and thinks, “Yay!” He’ll tweet that out later: “Yay! I won!”

Cattaneo takes second, about five minutes behind. Meanwhile, Pogacar has blown by the shattered Quintana.

Pogacar finishes, losing about six minutes to O’Connor in the end, easily keeping his yellow jersey. I’m not providing a photo because I’m already tired of this guy.

The rest of the GC riders come over in dribs and drabs, over half a minute behind Pogacar.

David Gaudu (Groupama-FDJ) crosses the line, having lost a fair bit of time right at the end when he kind of blew. He started today in ninth, 5:52 down.

The announcers are saying Geraint Thomas had a pretty good day. Yeah, he solidly contributed to Pogacar’s chase effort and gave Carapaz the opportunity to launch a totally feeble attack that set up Pogacar’s counterattack perfectly. As he crosses the line he ponders just how badly that went.

See that bottle of water in the road? It rolled around for a good while there, one rider having to swerve around it.

They’re interviewing O’Connor.

INTERVIEWER: So, are you kind of happy, or what?

O’CONNOR: Yes, it’s exciting to put on a show for my parents and my mates back in Australia. This is what I’ve dreamed of. That and elves. I have a lot of dreams about little elves, it’s weird.

INTERVIEWER: You’re a little glassy-eyed. Are you gonna start crying now, like a Quickstep guy?

O’CONNOR: I think I can avoid that. I’m able to control myself better now, I’m not yelling “yay” anymore.

INTERVIEWER: Walk us through that victory salute, where you clapped your hands like a little girl at a birthday party.

O’CONNOR: You need to understand, I went into that victory salute completely unprepared. I wasn’t meant to be in the break, I screwed up, I didn’t know what to do, then I heard we had three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, one fish two fish red fish blue fish, it was a mad stage, conditions were atrocious. I had to not panic, and when you think you’re gonna win a stage you can freeze up, and … look at me, dammit, I am starting to cry.

Okay, fine, I took some liberties recording that interview. O’Connor did say “mates,” anyway.

Here’s the top ten for the stage:

Sonny Colbrelli (Bahrain Victorious), a sprinter who came into the stage sixth in the points competition, in the company of such pure sprinters as Mark Cavendish (Deceuninck-QuickStep), Nacer Bouhanni (Team Arkea-Samsic), and Michael Matthews (Team BikeExchange), took third today. It’s not strange at all to see a sprinter take third on a major mountain stage when pure climbers like Quintana and Kuss don’t even crack the top ten.

It’s not strange at all, that is, when the sprinter in question is on Bahrain Victorious. There’s almost nothing this team can’t do, apparently. After the Dauphiné when Pudun soloed on mountain stages two days in a row, an anonymous team boss complained to Le Parisien, “It’s an absolute disgrace. How am I going to approach sponsors and tell them that there is no more doping when we see this? It’s crude. The Bahrain team is becoming more and more scandalous.” Now, I know this sounds like something I would make up, but I actually didn’t … you can read it here.

It’s been half an hour since the finish and more than half the peloton is still out on the course. A large group rolls toward the finish.

Here’s the new GC. O’Connor has catapulted himself from 14th place up to second with this ride!

O’Connor mounts the podium. He uses Continental tires on all his cars, bicycles, and other vehicles. Clearly.

Now Pogacar stands on the podium to show off his new yellow jersey. He looks very happy … goofy, even. But remember, this rider is only twelve years old.

And now, happily enough, Quintana gets to stand on the podium to rock the polka-dots. See that podium girl—er, woman? You might be wondering why her dress has little hearts instead of polka-dots. Well, that’s actually her bridesmaid dress. She’s in a wedding later. As soon as she gets home from the reception, she’s going to pull that dress off over her head and stuff it right in the trash.

This is as close to a smile as we will ever get from Quintana. Cover his mouth and look just at his eyes. There is pain.

Now they interview Pogacar.

INTERVIEWER: You increased your lead today, putting your scent on this race once again, like a dog pissing on a hydrant.

POGACAR: It was a good day. I really want to thank my team for making it possible.

INTERVIEWER: Um, actually, your team faltered today, leaving you completely isolated.

POGACAR: Oh, I didn’t mean my UAE team. I meant Ineos, my other team.

INTERVIEWER: That was weird, how Ineos just rode tempo for you to pull back the gap to O’Connor.

POGACAR: Well, it can’t be easy not having a viable leader, so I guess they’ve decided to make me an honorary Grenadier.

INTERVIEWER: Were you worried about losing the jersey?

POGACAR: I was scared a little bit toward the end. I [effortlessly] accelerated just to make sure I stay in yellow [as though toying with everyone].

INTERVIEWER: Why are you still holding that stuffed lion on your lap?

POGACAR: My balls are cold.

Mark Cavendish comes toward the line, in pretty serious danger of missing the time cut. His teammates have paced him valiantly. Look how badly he’s suffering. That lower lip is sticking out farther than a pouting child’s.

Cav crosses the line, in tears, with less than 90 seconds to spare.

He celebrates with his teammates as if he’s just won another stage. “I’ve never seen him cry so much as this year,” the announcer says.

Cavendish should really take some climbing lessons from Colbrelli. But he better not let the Bahrain-Victorious team doctor give him a brown paper sack or anything.

Here’s a bright note: the lying, cheating scumbag Arnaud Démare (Groupama-FDJ) has finished outside the time cut so his Tour de France is over. Odd, isn’t it, that this sprinter has the Strava KOM for the famous Cipressa climb in the Milan-San Remo and yet was cut from the race today? How come sprinters can only sometimes outclimb the climbers?

We’ve just got some bad news about Quintana: due to an obscure rule, a rider cannot start a stage without the original bib numbers issued by the race organizers. As you’ll recall, his numbers blew off earlier in the stage. They will have to be retrieved, and to teach him a lesson Quintana’s Arkea-Samsic team is making him go back out on the course and find them. I hope this doesn’t take too long … at least tomorrow is a rest day.

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