Is this the face of a champion? (NSFW)

If your first thought in seeing the picture above is, "DEAR GOD WHAT IS THAT THING?!?", you're not alone, that's all I gotta say. Well that and close your browser before your boss sees what's on your screen.

No, that's not the Zodiac killer, it's Cadel Evans. Looking odder than ever at the Team Silence Lotto presentation, he suddenly finds himself elevated by the ASO to Tour favorite. What's that? The organizers of le Tour are picking favorites? Well, yes, after a fashion. Indeed, last season's Doping All Stars, Team Astana, freshly stocked with doping investigation subject and Tour winner Alberto Contador, not to mention third-place Levi "peak too soon" Leipheimer, are living a teenage girl's worst nightmare, not being invited to the party of the year.

Clearly the French are done with losing le Tour to Spaniards and Americans. Of the 22 Tours run since the last time a Frenchman won (1985, if you're not old enough to remember), 10-11 have been won by Americans and 7-8 by Spaniards, depending on how you count. By banning Astana from the 2008 edition of cycling's big dance, both the leading Spanish and American contenders are removed from the race. Quelle coincidence!

Incredibly, possibly the next favorite on the list, eternal contender / occasional finisher Andreas Kloden is out too. When I'm done recovering from the shock (of seeing Cadel's pic, natch), another favorite will come to me, but by then he'll probably be banned too. If someone can think of a French rider who's won a Pro-Tour race of consequence, let me know. I'll do a piece on him as a Tour '08 front-runner.

Who needs makeup when you can have an Orca?

Clinique boardroom wall, unknown photographer.

I'm never, ever leaving home again without my CR1. Seriously! Carbon fiber is the new black. Or something. Those ten pounds the camera adds? Gone with CF. Blemishes and zits? Poof! they are no more. Is your ass in danger of dragging on the ground? Nuh-uh, not with a plastic bike. Just ask Eva Longoria. Why would she ever go out without her Basque carbon fiber extravaganza when with it she looks like this and without... like this. Tony Parker, are you listening? Get that frame crash replacement policy in order, stat!

Frank Schleck is a homo...

Feeling uncomfortable, Frankie?

...phobe. In a curiously unattributed Competitive Cyclist article full of deep truths such as "do not think a group ride of Cat 3's is anything like a pack of pros", Frank Schleck is shown, nay, put on display for having problems with man love. Frank takes issue with being called a "faggot" by a passing jackass motorist. A pro cyclist, someone who rides 20,000 miles a year never has been called queer before by a lazy, fat slob driver? Frank must not ride much in the US of A. Credit to the author for citing the Alpe d'Huez and Amstel Gold winner for having a hate problem, but one has to wonder if there's more to the story.

Imagine if that yahoo saw that Frankie shaves his chest.

Someone should sit Frank Schleck down to watch "American Beauty" before he does something truly rash.

Don't call it a comeback

Yes, the Cycopaths are back. And when I say "Cycopaths", I mean platogrande. And when I say back I mean "for now". You may be wondering what happened to us? Were platogrande's Catalan origins discovered while in Madrid, leading to months of torture in a cellar under la Puerta del Sol? Was Mr. 60 rubbed-out by an elite Team CSC tactical unit? (as a team-building exercise, of course).

Alas, the truth is not as interesting. Yours truly, platogrande has been busy riding (some cycling bloggers really do ride) and working long hours. Mr. 60? What's been keeping him away? Well, we Cycopaths believe a picture is worth a thousand words:

She only comes out at night

As for the promised ContaCoverage from Madrid, here, only four months late revealed for the first time, are the Cycopaths' exclusive photos from ContaCraziness in Madrid at the end of the '07 TdF.

Contador was everywhere, in the newspapers...

on the TV,

and even in the water supply!



But nowhere was there a hint of the doping allegations heard everywhere else in the world. Madrid was thrilled to have a local product win a prestigious event such as "el Tour". The funny thing was how everyone, right down the mayor, called a "Madridleño". The guy is from Pinto, not Mardid. Saying he's from Madrid is like saying Mary J Blige is a New Yorker because she's from Yonkers. I can't blame the folks from Pinto for being excited, though, and excited and dorky they were:

Months later, though, the question still remains: did Cadel lose to a doper?

Is there a hint of guilt in that smirk?

T-Mobile hangs-up

No more Euros for you, foo'!

T-Mobile today said to cycling today, "we r thru". Yes, the multinational megatelco that shrugged off Sergui Gonchar (or is it Honchar?) and Jan Ullrich doping scandals apparently found young Patrick Sinkewitz' transgressions to be too much. The question that remains is, was it the EPO or the testo that did it? Seriously, if Sinkewitz had only done one or the other, but not both, would have that been enough to save the sponsorship?

We may never know the answer. Speculation may begin, though, on what the new team kits will be like. Perhaps they plan to borrow Unibet's kit while they court a new clueless title sponsor.

Linus Gerdemann would make this look good

Word has it that the squad will race as "Team High Road", with the team named after the management company that operates it. Is this an indication of a plan to operate "dope-free" like the American "Team Slipstream"? Cycopaths' intrepid European correspondent, Old Dirty Sprinter has evidence that supports this theory, having obtained exclusive photographs of what is believed to be the teams new emblem:

In a madmam's dream...

Cadel still isn't going to win

It has been suggested on these very pages that perhaps I don't like Australians. That's not true, at all. However, I admit to being pleased to see Cadel Evans doing his thing: hanging around but not winning anything (unless, of course, Vino is formally stripped of his TT win for being a doper). Why does the sight of Cadel admirably hanging on then getting dropped like a bad habit make me feel warm and fuzzy? It must be because I know he won't win. All signs, in fact, point to Cadel finishing second or third in Paris. By his own admission, the last TT doesn't suit his characteristics, so too bad, maybe next time, Cadel! In fact, the Cycopaths are so confident, that we plan to give live or near live on-the-ground coverage of what is no doubt going to be a jubilant celebration in Madrid. That's right, this reporter has packed his folding bike and is off to Alberto Contador's hometown. If you're wondering where my lazy colleague Mr. 60% has gone, he's been busy commenting on other blogs.

Deutschland Uber Doping

Today's "oh snap" moments come to us courtesy of T-Mobile's Patrick Sinkewitz. Not only did the former Tour of Germany winner put a 78 year old Tour fan into a coma with his teeth (how does that happen?), but now reports are coming out that he's just like everybody else a doper. That's right, another positive testosterone test. The result? German TV is done with le Tour. Never mind the fact that the positive test was taken during a training camp. Sure it was shortly before this year's Tour, but what next? Can we assume that if news comes out that the East German Olympians doped back in the day (shocking!) that Beijing '08 is off the sched too? I hope our readers in Germany get Eurosport!

VDB: Patron Saint of Teh Cycopaths

What's that, Bill? Here. Let me roll that for you.

Nothing concerning VDB surprises us anymore. Really!
The latest controversy surrounding cycling's own Lindsay Lohan (skinnier, more Belgian) are reports that he has run away with a married woman from Deinze, Belgium and her 22 month-old child to Normandy.
Of course he did! Not mentioned in any news report is that Frank is under the impression that he's on tour with Funkadelic's George Clinton and Ghetto Boys' Bushwick Bill.

Cycopaths: Talented, Famous

This is where you go to meet the Cycopaths

If you've ever had doubts about the popularity of the Cycopaths, put them away, because we're but one step short of having to fight-off the paparazzi. You know you're famous when a random person on the subway has read your blog. That's right, while I was taking the subway instead of riding the new carbon fiber Platogrande-mobile in the pouring rain, an admirer of the fiber weave of the Scott CR1 in my clutches -- obviously a fellow with excellent taste in bikes and blogs -- enthusiastically said when told about cycopaths.net, "Yeah, I've read that blog before." Can Oscar party invites and rehab be far behind?

Mr. 49%? I hope not.

Fabulous Fabian Cancellara's win in yesterday's Stage 3 of le Tour was absolutely thrilling. Well, until about five seconds after he crossed the line, when I remembered which team he is on and who runs that team. Any fan who is not skeptical these days of any fantastic race results is a fool. The greater fool still is the fan who denies that when the master puppeteer, Bjarne "Mr 60%" Riis is pulling the strings, "probs doping" is the operative phrase.

Tyler and Ivan both suddenly went from really strong to insanely strong. Let's not forget Bobby J's resurgence either, though Jullich's never been found to be a doper. Are we to believe all this is due to some glorified paintball boot camp? Even this generally optimistic and positive reporter knows that CSC's military-style team-building exercises do not make anyone ride faster.

Fabian, your ride was amazing and I, for one, admire your panache and your enthusiasm for our sport, but fear the worst. My vocabulary is not colorful enough to speak for my degenerate colleague Mr. 60, but he no doubt thinks you're a shameless ****ing doper.

Boonen: Belgian, Classy, Pretty

Tom Boonen has long been a source of inspiration here at Cycopaths HQ. Aside from being a beast on the bike, he shares other great qualities with your humble authors: class, charm and devastating good looks. It is especially his classiness that distinguishes him from the likes of the father of Ewan McEwen.

McEwen is like the hot girlfriend you can't dump because she's, well, so hot. He's ridiculously fast and as seen on Sunday, a true hardman of the peloton, but he's also destructive and a real ass when things don't go well for him. To wit, at the end of yesterday's stage, the contrast between Robbie "Headbutt" McEwen and our man Torpedo Tom was evident: Boonen was graciously trying to get out of the way so the press could mob his victorious teammate Steegmans, while the quick little troll from Down Under was seen angrily shoving said press corps out of his nowhere-near-victory way. A picture says a thousand words I always say, so somebody send us a screencap of Robbie doing the shoving and we'll put your name in lights!

Tour Preview!

Is this the face of a champion?

On the eve of the 2007 Tour de France, Cycopaths readers are no doubt wondering what we think will come of this Tour. Well, aside from another doping scandal, natch. While I won't tell you who will win, I'll tell you who won't, and that's Cadel Evans. How is this guy ever considered one of the favorites? He's won exactly one race since 2004 [A Tour of Romandie 2006 stage, Ed.]. At least we can be pretty sure he's not a doper, though, and you never know who will be left standing when the (dope) smoke clears. Perhaps Cadel can win this Tour eleven years from now like Indurain.

Indurain won six Tours

One more finger, Miguel.

As we, the Cycopaths prepare our 2007 Tour de France previews, I find myself reflecting on the 1996 Tour. I still believe that our hero, Miguel Indurain, had he not cracked because of Bjarne "Mr. 60%" Riis' attacks, would have controlled the race and won. However, recent developments have led me to the conclusion that he is the real winner anyway, despite his "11th" placing. On to the investigation!

Consider the GC of the '96 Tour. The top three had more EPO in them than a whole ward of recovering cancer patients. Laurent Dufaux, Festina, need I say more? Luc Leblanc we know was a doper -- just read between the lines of Graeme Obree's book about the time he kindasortamaybe went pro with le Groupement. Ugrumov was Raimundas Rumsas before Rumsas himself, i.e. doping for sure. Olano? Known doper. Escartin, well, not sure there but I'm sure we can dig something up. Rominger, look at his hour record numbers and try to tell me he didn't have track marks between his toes. That leaves only Peter Luttenberger ahead of Indurain, and nobody's ever heard of him since so he too was probably on something (inconsistency is the hallmark of the doper!).

So there you have it, we now know why Lance went for number seven: the "top ten" of the '96 Tour should have been DQ'd, and Indurain awarded his sixth victory. ¡Aupa!

Ale-Jet Grounded

Readers of Cycopaths are no doubt wondering about the recent slackness of posting. The truth is, we're overwhelmed by the flow of cycling doping news streaming in from Europe. Among the latest shocking (?) news is that Alessandro "Ale-Jet" Petacchi is under investigation for doping, and thereby suspended by his team (they're just following orders, you know). Worse still for Ale-Jet is that he has been formally accused of doping by his home country and consequently is out of this year's Tour de France.

Truth be told, the only truly surprising news these days in the world of cycling is when someone is declared to not be a doper by someone other than the cyclist himself. Do I believe that Petacchi is a doper? Well, yes, if taking a few too many pulls on an inhaler qualifies as doping. I guess I should be careful with those double-shots of Flonase before my next brevet.

Doping is a huge problem in cyling, no doubt. Unfortunately, though, rather than do things The Right Way(TM), doper-catchers seem to in competition with the dopers themselves to see who can destroy our beloved sport first. If it's not Dick Pounder, it's French LNDD, or in this case, the Italian Olympic Committee. Why can't they focus on real dopers?

Di Luca: Doper, Bard

We here at Teh Cycopaths contend that there is more to life that just bike racing news.There's also unintentional poetry to be found in said news! From a recent cyclingnews piece:

need to inject Erythropoietin
immediately
since,
at the time,
the drug was only detectable for a few days.
You have to pass by.
You have to hurry
because you need to do it today,
said the doctor.
Di Luca responded

Simoni was wrong

Nice try, Gibo, he's no alien

Apparently Ivan Basso is in fact human, not an extraterrestrial. Well, that is if you believe Basso:

"Since I confessed my errors I have started to feel better with myself and towards my family. It is true that I deceived for one year because I was afraid of being uncovered, but it is human to make mistakes."

His elusive dog, Birrillo, on the other hand, is known to have contact with extraterrestrials. We at Cycopaths believe a picture is worth a thousand words:

So there you have it. Birrillo remains at large because he's on another planet. I'll bet he and VDB see each other on weekends for unicorn rides across the Martian countryside.

New Jersey hates cycling, common sense

Apparently New Jersey thinks that quick-release wheels are a big problem. So big, that it's more important for lawmakers to ban them than to, say, pay attention to mathematics education or crime (unless of course you consider making it more difficult to steal wheels to be crime-fighting).

BUT IT'S FOR THE CHILDREN!!!

How children are being harmed by quick-release wheels is unclear. What is totally clear is that politicians have no @#$%ing clue, more so than usual, when bicycles are the issue. Cyclist killed on 9W [major cycling route out of NYC -Ed.]? Ban bikes from riding there! Children need saving from QR wheels? Ban them! (the wheels, not the children, though that may not be far behind -- can't be harmed if they're banned, right? it just makes sense). In any case, we recommend the Welsh "harness of oranges" as a safety device:

Anything for the children

The 80s called: they want their panache back

In today's Dauphiné Libéré, Christophe "The Tongue" Moreau showed us all how it's done. At 36 year old, "le chien" still has it, winning the stage the old fashioned way, riding the hardest. For possibly the first time ever, I find myself admiring old Cristophe. Until now, I've always thought of him as well, downright annoying. Maybe it's the pathetic attempts at growing a beard. Maybe it's the tongue? Physical defects aside, let us not forget the Festina connection (leaving the fact that he's French out of it -- what is with the French and doping-scandal-tainted riders becoming national heroes?). Despite it all, Moreau made me feel warm and fuzzy today. There's nothing like a guy dragging a break across the countryside and still winning the race. Way to go, old man!

Speaking of the DL, was I not right about Levi Leipheimer? Even he admits now that he peaks too early. Here's what the American pseudo-stage-racer had to say about last year's poor timing:

"I really wanted to win the Dauphiné because I grew up with this race when I heard of Greg LeMond going for it. I thought it was really nice to put my name in the record books but I might have missed some strength because of that at the Tour. This time, I'm hoping to have delayed my peak form a little bit."

Remember, you heard it here first. Staying on the topic of talented Americans with unfulfilled potential, it's been pretty clear that Tom Danielson doesn't have the stomach for the big races (really!), dropping out with yet another spot of digestive distress. Good luck making the Tour squad, Tommy!

Platogrande for President?

Watching the presidential debates, my better half suggested that maybe I should run for President. Presumptuous? I think not. Let's check the facts. Charm and wit? Check! Devastating good looks? Check! Intelligent opinions on everything? Check! What else is there? Ah, yes, a running mate. An obvious choice would be my colleague, Mr. 60%, but I figured I'd be more electable with someone more famous, someone recognizable across the world, not just in the US. I hit upon Lance Armstrong. It seemed like a great idea, a Platogrande/Armstrong ticket, but then I realized that I'm not quite old enough and, more importantly, Lance would probably have me assassinated to gain the Presidency for himself. If a bloody weapon was seen being tossed into a dumpster from Lance's presidential motorcade, the new White House Chief of Staff Johan Bruyneel (is he even a US citizen?) would somehow explain it away. No, my friends, running for President would be too risky so I'll stick to blogging for now.

I want my, I want my EPO

Dear readers, I tell you, la EPO must be a helluva drug. Not that I've ever tried it, but now I understand why Lance used to sleep in an altitude tent and why so many pros do, umm, training camps in Mexico. Hiking across the Grand Canyon these last few days with a big backpack was like altitude, resistance, and cross training all rolled into one. Maybe it's my imagination, but after some time at 8000+ feet, deep breaths seem a little deeper, the next cog seems a little closer... indeed, this morning your humble servant Platogrande was seen flying up the Williamsburg Bridge on his daily commute, leaving behind hipsters and Hassidim alike. Never mind that Dominican fixie rider who dropped me like a bad habit ("on your left, papi!"). Now where'd that stupid needle go?