On Floyd and his Testosterone

I'd sincerely hoped that yesterday's Tour coda would be my final posting until next year's run-up, but it looks like we've come full circle; indeed, it feels like it's June 29 again, and we're fretting about the validity of this year's Tour.

I received a number of emails today, most of them asking either, "I heard something; what's going on?" or "So what do you think? Did he do it?" And on my bike commute home, a local TV station's reporter and camera crew flagged me down -- I'm not kidding -- and asked me what I thought of the situation. So I figure someone's suggesting that I share my thoughts on the matter.

What's going on is that the urine sample Floyd Landis gave after his dramatic Stage 17 win turned up eleveated levels of testosterone -- at least, relative to his epitestosterone; his "T:E ratio" was illegally high. As testosterone has been shown to expidite recovery, it's certainly feasible that in attempting to come back from his disastrous collapse on the way to Toussuire, Landis might have decided to throw a little something extra -- and illegal -- at the effort.

But it's not that simple. Testosterone has been shown to spike naturally for various reasons. Our own Tom Lariviere tells me that a study of European soccer fans revealed that when their team wins, they get a surge of the very stuff that makes us men men (and that, from what I've come to understand, is what's making me lose the hair on my head, and maybe grow it in places I'd prefer not to have it; right now I'm really not a big testosterone fan). Heck, one only had to look at Landis as he crossed the line in Morzine and know that he was feeling particularly manly that day. There's also speculation that the depletion he experienced the day before could have primed him for a testosterone spike, and that the drugs he takes to ease hip pain could drive the T:E levels up. Even the beer he famously downed the night before his epic win might have contributed to the positive test. (For more on all this, check out http://www.velonews.com/news/fea/10596.0.html).

Since that's about all I understand about the physiology, I figure we should glean what we can from Floyd himself and the way he's acted since all this broke. First he went into hiding (bad), but then he went public with not-too-vigorous denials (good!). He's maintaining his Not-so-Big Lebowski persona, saying essentially, "I'm clean, but I wouldn't blame you if you were a little bummed out by all this." I'm not sensing the he-doth-protest-too-much feel of Tyler Hamilton's defense, nor the talk-to-my-lawyer sentiment I got from Jan Ullrich. He just seems...credible. But then, I'm a sucker. I want to believe, and bad.

It does seem crazy that of all the drugs and treatments he surely has access to, he would risk his career on one that is relatively easily detected, especially knowing that he'd be going for the win and, at least in a couple of days' time, the Maillot Jaune (every stage winner is tested, as is the Yellow Jersey wearer.) Just think of those shots of him stepping into and emerging from the doping control van after his grand win; he looked like a man who was just plain pumped -- not pumped with anything artificial, and thus feeling nervous.

Of course, he referred to the premeditated early escape as a "Hail Mary," a last-ditch, caution-to-the-wind shot at a Tour win. And with his hip surgery looming, the impact of which is unclear, maybe he was thinking it was the last ditch not of the year, but of his career. He knew he had to recover better than anyone else, and knew that he could attribute a testosterone spike to a natural occurrance. So maybe that Hail Mary pass had a little something extra on it.

I sure hope this isn't the case. Watching our heroes tumble is painful, and these days it happens more often than ever before, as we know what our heroes are up to day and night. I loved discovering a new cycling hero on the slopes of the Joux-Plane, and I'd like to hang onto him for awhile.

Of course, counting Floyd Landis' fall from grace among my chief woes tells you something: that I don't know from problems. We're a lucky lot if this is what we have to fret about. I hope to learn that, incontrovertably, Floyd is innocent. But as much as I love cycling, and as much as his win inspired me, if he isn't exonerated...we're all still doing just fine.

Afterword - the Lost Subject Lines

I realize that I probably don't need to tell you that yes, I'm suffering from some post-Tour letdown. Meanwhile, I remembered that at one point I'd intended to open every update with a cutesy subject line, but forgot after the Prologue. Here, then, are the Lost Subject Lines; consider them a chance to relive the Tour, and please, try to stifle your groans.

Prologue: Thor Throws Down the Hammer

Stage 1: Scrappy Hincapie Happy in Yellow

Stage 2: Chaos Theory: McEwen Emerges from Tangle to Steal a Win

Stage 3: Valverde Crashes, Abandons; Screams Heard in Murcia, Spain and Oakland, California

Stage 4: McEwen Wins Again, and We Win an Insider's View of Collarbone Fractures -- and a Whole Lot More -- from Shelley

Stage 5: Frère Freire, Soon to Be un Père, Takes it by a Hair

Stage 6: Don't Knock It: the Pocket Rocket Rocks His Sprocket to Pocket Win #3

Stage 7: You Spell It F-A-S-T: Honchar Gontchar Gonchar Blazes to Time Trial Win and into Yellow

Stage 8: Lightning Strikes Twice: a Breakaway Stays Away and the French Win a Stage

Stage 9: Rubbing Shoulders with the Sprinters, Freire Grabs Another Victory

Stage 10: Super-Mercado Wins in Pau as Dessel Rides Really Gutsy but Really Stupid and thus will Have the Yellow Jersey for Just One Day

Stage 11: Don't Mench-on it, Levi: Denis Menaces Leipheimer, Landis Lands in Yellow

Stage 12: Popo Discovers how to Win without Lance

Stage 13: What a Long, Strange Trip: Needing a Miracle, Pereiro Gets it -- and a Dose of Yellow too

Stage 14: Phonak Phones it in, Keeping Pereiro in Yellow

Stage 15: Alpe de-Lux: Schleck Has the Gaul to Win on Cycling's Biggest Stage

Stage 16: The Chicken Flies as Landis Lays an Egg: for Floyd c'est Toute de Suite a Toussuire

Stage 17: Just Like that, it's Again Hip to Be Floyd

Stage 18: Tosatto Takes a Stage that Has no Bearing on the Overall Picture, and that I thus Can't Think of Anything Clever for

Stage 19: All's Right with the World as Landis Lands Back in Yellow

Stage 20: Bookends: Thor Wins in Paris, Landis is the Champ on the Champs

Mike

Final Update -- from July 24

Friends,

Given the level of anti-American sentiment prevalent in the world today, I'm certain that there are many people in Europe and elsewhere -- maybe even some cycling insider-contrarians here in the U.S. -- who aren't happy that an American won the Tour de France for the eighth straight year. What I'm hoping Floyd Landis' victory will reveal , though, is that American stars come in many stripes -- that not all Americans, let alone American cyclists, are just like Lance.

Which isn't to say that Lance's story is anything but remarkable; in my esteem, it's the crowning sports story of our time. Still, a Lance-idote is welcome, and we got it in Floyd. Yes, they both rose from improbable backgrounds, but the similarities don't extend much further. Even their names illustrate the distinctions: Lance Armstrong, Superhero! vs. Floyd Landis, guy down at the bowling alley. Lance hangs out with Bono; maybe now Floyd will get a chance to meet Kid Rock. Lance flew in his private jet from race to race; last year, Floyd rode his bike to the formal pre-Tour Phonak team presentation in Tours, France -- from Spain. Maybe it's no surprise that their relationship grew a bit rocky after Landis left Armstrong's Discovery team: these are pretty different personalities we're talking about.

But what we noticed during the Tour, of course, was how differently Floyd won. Very little seemed calculated, except perhaps how Team Phonak would lose the Yellow Jersey after the Pyrenees. With Lance, very little wasn't calculated. Supported by the dominant team, he rode carefully and consistently; usually, once Lance took the Jersey, he kept it the rest of the Tour. Floyd, meanwhile, won the jersey, then lost it (by choice), then got it back, then lost it (by imploding) and then got close to getting it back, and then finally won it back for the last time, all without the help of a strong team. And in this very different kind of victory, we were treated to a very different kind of Tour, one that echoes back to the pre-earpiece eras of Merckx, Hinault, Roche and LeMond. A new era, said many French writers and riders, of panache.

Besides, the cycling world is flat, and it's hard to say Landis represents just the U.S., let alone one slice of America. He rides for a Swiss team that's directed by a Belgian. His notable teammates are from South Africa, Belgium, Germany and France, and he lives half the year in Spain. He has his classically American traits -- he's confident, even brash at times, and I don't think he speaks another language. But he can also be very personable, even deferential; Karen melted whenever he'd humbly say, "Thank you Frankie" at the end of an interview. He's a different kind of American and a different kind of champion, and considering how this Tour started and how it looked like it might go, he's just the antidote we needed.

***********************************************************************

Not that Landis was the only piece of this Tour worth remembering. As Kiernan poignantly put it, this Tour was about heart, and for many reasons -- for Merckx's and Voigt's deep-digging team play, and Dessel and Pereiro riding their careers into another realm as they defended the Maillot Jaune, and many other shining examples of riding on heart and heart alone. Fitting, then, that it would be the gutsy riding of David de la Fuente, who worked so valiantly to keep hold of the Polka-Dot Jersey, that would win him the Most Combative award and vault Romas into second place, just one point shy of overall winner Tony. Tied for third were Kat and Christian, who moved ahead of Dan and Kelly on the strength of their two-jersey performances. Tony takes home about $220 (depending on whether I get the last few entry fees this week!), while Romas wins about $110, and Kat and Christian split about $60. Jordan carries the Lanterne Rouge and gets her entry fee back. You'll remember that Angela (aka Mom) won the CTS jersey, which she's donating to an auction benefiting Oakland schools, and the blood pressure monitor goes to Everett, for losing three riders to crashes. Thanks again to the very, very generous donors of these great bonus prizes. (Winners -- except Mom --- please email me the best address so I can send your prizes!)

It is difficult to believe that about 24 days ago I was on the verge of scrapping this game, and of perhaps not watching the Tour. As the doping scandal unfolded, I found it hard to imagine that this Tour would prove worth following. But then I received about thirty emails in about twelve hours, all of them telling me I was nuts, and that the game had to go on. For this, I thank you. For had I not followed the Tour this year, I would have missed out on a truly remarkable story. As the modern-day American philosopher Cameron Crowe once wrote, "We live in a cynical world," and indeed, it's easy to slip into cynicism about many things, cycling included. But over the past few weeks cynicism lost out to heart, and belief, and idealism. I said it many times over the last seven years, and I hope to say it many more times as I continue to follow this beautiful sport: I feel privileged to have been a witness to this Tour.

Which is why this game will happen again, and why we're going big next year. Evidently my brother's friend is creating a database for tracking this game for the final project of his Access class, so the sky's the limit in '07; we're shooting for 100 entrants, we're donating 10% of the pot to the LAF (or maybe the FLF, if it's up and running by then) and we're going to have a blast following the Tour once again.

Just 343 days until the Prologue in London.

Mike

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Winner Tony Farrell
Second Place Romas Pencyla
Third Place Kat Campbell and Christian Newman
CTS Jersey Angela Fee
A&D Monitor Everett Harper

Final Standings
Player Points
Tony Farrell 109
Romas Pencyla 108
Christian Newman 101
Kat Campbell 101
Dan and Kelly Fee 90
Jodi Hall 81
Wes Cole 81
Elizabeth Eppler 77
Tad Sennott 76
Rachel & Robin Bordoli 73
Walter Lamerton 72
Andy Sessions 70
Paul Keys 70
Pete November 64
Brandon Correia 59
Dave Fee 59
Tom Lariviere 57
Robin Fee 56
Everett Harper 48
Julie Mikuta 48
Rob Kelley 45
Richard Stagliano 40
Doug Hall 39
Bob Fee 32
Jon Chapman 32
Annetta Stroud 31
David McCarthy 31
Jim Fee 30
Pam Stover 30
Alan Levy 27
Angela Fee 26
Anne Mahle 25
Peter Lester 24
Kiernan McGuire 22
Michael Fee 20
Greg Widmyer 16
Karen Fee 15
Steve Earhart 14
Don Fee 8
Jordan Cantwell 7

Stage 17 Update - from July 21

I hereby resolve NOT to follow any of next year's mountain stages or time trials on my Blackberry. That's how I "watched" yesterday's Homeric stage, and let me tell you, it's just not the same.

Here's how it all went: I awoke like I normally do, by the Declan alarm, around 6:15. I stumbled to his crib and pulled him out, carried him to the living room, turned on the TV with my toe and together we settled into the couch. There was a commercial on -- "Stupid Fast," I think -- and for a moment I considered drifting back to sleep. But then two things happened: first, Declan grabbed my chest hair; then, just a split second later, Floyd appeared, obviously alone and obviously moving very fast. A double-shot of adrenaline: I was fully awake.

But I was skeptical and remained that way in the shower, up the Col des Aravis, drinking my coffee and into le Grand-Bornand, figuring that at any time T-Mobile and Rabobank would crank up the pace and whittle the lead down in the span of the climb up the Joux-Plane. But as he shot up the Col de la Columbiere, evidently not slowing and definitely taking very good care of himself -- there was practically an H2O IV and a perpetual shower from his team car -- my skepticism started to attenuate, and I reluctantly started to believe.

Unfortunatley, I started to believe and had to leave. I considered the alternatives, none of them good and all of them involving alienating people I work with, and decided that unlike the mano-a-mano Alpe d'Huez stage, this one really just involved following time gaps, and would be good enough followed via tiny text.

Next thing I know I'm calling Karen and asking her to place the phone by the TV and turn up Paul and Phil real loud. She was about to oblige, but I reconsidered; even I have my limits. But I guessed then what I later heard was the case: that Floyd's abundantly evident determination was inspiring -- that though he was racing the clock as much as Sastre or Pereiro, just watching him ride, all alone, would bring tears to eyes and send hearts racing (and I know this is true, because I heard as much from a number of you).

I've made up for missing that epic effort by watching the entire rebroadcast last night and reading every recap and interview I could find. In Floyd, I've found, we've discovered our hero, though a very different kind than Lance. His story, of course, is far more modest than cancer recovery, though the last couple of days have definitely raised his profile. But it's his demeanor that I find refreshing: it's aw-shucks plus surfer dude with just a dash of Armstrong-esque hubris.

Which makes me think: the best part of the story of the last couple of days, besides the ride itself, is the Wednesday night beer.

The best Floyd quote is something like, "Word got around the peloton that I was planning something, and guys said, "No, don't do it," and I said, "Sorry -- grab a Coke, cause we're going."

And the best image isn't Landis' triumphant, vindicated fist-pump at the finish; it's the picture of him minutes later, still wearing the same defiant look on his face.

So I'm a full Floyd convert, which of course worries me intensely, because his final victory is far from assured. In any Tour, but in this one most of all, anything can happen. Making up 30 seconds on Pereiro or 18 on Sastre is no mean feat, even without mishaps -- as Landis had in both of this Tour's first two time trials.

So I'm being cautious in my optimism, but I'm feeling the need for a new hero, and I'd thus love to see Floyd take the Yellow Jersey tomorrow. I'll be glued to my TV -- the entire time -- watching it unfold.
_______________________________________________________________________
All of this makes our game downright intriguing, and tempting to try to predict -- though I won't try; you can use the attached to make some forecasts on your own. Remember that the Yellow Jersey wins 20 points, Green and Polka-Dot 15 and Best Young Rider and Most Combative (unknown until Sunday) 10 each. The color-coding means that Wes currently holds the Green and Polka-Dot Jerseys; Rachel and Robin hold Yellow, Polka-Dot and White.


Standings through Friday:

Dan and Kelly Fee 62
Tony Farrell 60
Christian Newman 57
Kat Campbell 56
Romas Pencyla 54
Jodi Hall 50
Tad Sennott 50
Walter Lamerton 49
Wes Cole 48
Pete November 46
Rachel & Robin Bordoli 46
Elizabeth Eppler 45
Andy Sessions 44
Paul Keys 44
Richard Stagliano 38
Robin Fee 38
Tom Lariviere 37
Brandon Correia 33
Dave Fee 33
Julie Mikuta 32
David McCarthy 31
Jon Chapman 31
Pam Stover 30
Doug Hall 29
Everett Harper 28
Alan Levy 27
Rob Kelley 27
Angela Fee 26
Bob Fee 26
Jim Fee 25
Peter Lester 24
Anne Mahle 23
Kiernan McGuire 22
Annetta Stroud 21
Greg Widmyer 16
Karen Fee 15
Michael Fee 15
Steve Earhart 14
Don Fee 8
Jordan Cantwell 7

Stage 16 - from July 19

Thoughts and a few words from this morning:

6:20: Excellent: no sign of Declan yet. A little alone-with-the-Tour time for the Feester. Oh -- looks like Rasmussen's finally staking his claim. Contenders together -- everyone's there.

6:30: Would have loved to see the Galibier. Wonder what "Croix de la Fer" means? "So hot it feels like you're carrying a furry cross?" Shh-- no! Nonononono Declan, not yet, a little time, OK? Take the pacifier, back to sleep, yes, there you go, tiptoe out...Hmm -- new commercials, it seems. Jeez -- Flomax. Is that what I have to look forward to?...Great to see Levi going on the attack, and I think they'll let him go. C'mon, Levi! The podium's still possible!

6:32: Noooooo Declan, c'mon little guy, back to sleep please -- ugh. Standing in the crib. No going back down now. Hi, buddy! Let's go watch the Tour real quietly now, OK?...

6:40: No, Phil, Floyd's fine. Not everyone can ride like Lance, at the front and surrounded by seventeen teammates until the final four kilometers. He's just hanging back a bit, catching a little breather...Man, that Rasmussen's skinny! 5'9" and 135 L-Bs -- that' s less than 2 pounds per inch. I really need to drop some weight.

6:50: Sure he's alone -- no more Phonak guys after Merckx couldn't hang. No problem -- what's that really going to do for him anyway? It's not like riding behind anyone up an 8% grade does anything. In a stage like this one, it's the rider not the team....Jeez Declan -- hands off the remote! I think I'll watch the Tour instead of reruns of "Momma's Family," OK?

7:06: Good morning, Karen. No, nothing really happening yet, though I have to say Landis doesn't look great....No, I'm sure he'll hang in there. He doesn't have to win the stage, just come out of it not too far behind, before the time trial on Saturday....Umm, can you take Declan? He's been up for awhile and it would be great to watch for a bit. Thanks.

7:14: Crap. He really doesn't look good. No problem - he's bluffing. Taking a page out of the Armstrong playbook, that's what he's doing. Yep -- there he goes, back up with Menchov. Steady...no extra energy...no problem. All back together.

7:22: He's lagging. He's really lagging. Where are his teammates? Doesn't he have anyone who can hang? T-Mobile has four guys in there and he's alone! No, not Moreau -- why do they show that guy so much? Must be some sort of access fee for the French. Jeez a team is so important in these mountain stages.

7: 27: Oh crap. Crapcrapcrapcrap. Crapcrapcrapcrap!....Sorry Sweetie. Floyd's falling back. Probably not a big deal -- they're not too far from the finish, and he won't lose that much time.

7:35: Five minutes, Paul? You think he'll lose five minutes? Never. He's just not explosive; he's going to ride stead-- Yeesh -- he does look bad...He's barely turning over the pedals.

7:42: C'mon Floyd! C'mon c'mon c'mon -- make like your parents are chasing you with large Pennsylvanian farm implements! Make like there are ZZ Top tickets waiting for you at the summit! C'MON FLOYD!...Oh, sorry, sorry; isn't it time for Catie to wake up anyway? OK, but Floyd's imploding....I mean he's imploding! He's imploding, exploding, detonating and collapsing.. It's like Scanners and Alien at the same time. Check it out! I think I could keep up with him there!

7:51: Damage control, Floyd, damage control. No, don't show the Chicken; he's got it sewn up....Oh, Levi -- more disappointment. Cut back to Landis! I wonder if it's a hip thing?...No, there he is, and it's just a he's-popped thing. He is utterly fried. Oh, I can't watch....Mack, can you get out of the way of the TV, please? Please?



8:02: He's going to lose like 8 minutes, maybe more....I know, it is sad...Who knows, maybe he'll be back next year after the hip operation....No, he's done this year. If he can salvage the podium it would be a miracle.

8:09: Ohmigosh, what does this do to the game? Check the spreadsheet...oh crap -- I think I have a conference call in like 5 minutes. Email Anne...no one has Sastre! No one! Maybe Evans can do something, and then McEwen will fold, and Hushovd will take green, and Team Fee will be back in business!...Talk about grasping at straws; Floyd, didn't you read the script?

8:16: So it's Sastre, huh? Seems like a good guy; I always liked him after he pulled the pacifier out of his pocket in his '03 stage win -- but that ain't coming back from cancer, or even growing up Mennonite....Phew -- no conference call....Can't even imagine who to root for now...


And so it went this morning. Around the time that I was apologizing for waking Catie I also awoke from a seven-year reverie, realizing that Tour leaders are fallible, and that waking up the day after riding masterfully over three massive climbs and doing it again, just as masterfully, is far rarer than I'd come to believe.

The impact on our standings is predictably resounding, with a number of players surging and showing the potential to surge some more. Our sentimental favorites, the Dan & Kelly/collarbone-broken father & daughter team, rode their Pereiro pick into the lead, but hold just one jersey -- and I've learned not to get too comfortable with sentimental favorites. Wes, just two points behind, holds two jerseys -- not to mention Menchov, who's surely still keen to score some points -- and Rachel & Robin have donned three jerseys, and even have a backup for the Maillot Blanc in Cunego.

I'm just hoping Zabriskie and Hincapie do well in the time trial and dislodge Jordan and Don from the cellar, so Karen and I can keep our money!

Here's to Floyd!
Mike

Stage 15 - from July 18

Friends,

I'm certain you'll agree that there was much for a cycling fan to love about today's stage.

Start with the baseline: we got to follow our riders' progress up the spectacular switchbacks of Alpe d'Huez. With a backdrop like the surrounding Alps buoying my mood, I could enjoy watching overweight men riding tricycles up those switchbacks -- let alone the world's top cyclists.

Then go to the results: Frank Schleck, a rider from one of the Low Countries, reached the top of cycling's most famed ascent ahead of renowned climber Damiano Cunego. Winning on behalf of tiny Luxembourg and downtrodden Team CSC, Schleck gave his backers a victory to be proud of. (Which makes me think: every Olympiad, someone calculates the number of medals won per capita, or per dollar of GDP, to show that, say, New Zealand winning five medals is a bigger deal than the U.S. winning thirty. I say that for this Tour, we figure out which country won the most stages per acre of land mass; unless San Marino or Andorra has a rider in there somewhere, I'm guessing Luxembourg's win is safe). Plus we got to see Floyd Landis don the Maillot Jaune for the second time -- and I'm guessing he won't relinquish it quite so easily this time.

But even more than wistfully gazing at those famed 21 switchbacks, or fist-pumpingly cheering on Schleck and Landis, I loved following today's team tactics. During the Era of Lance, we came to believe that "tactics" meant sending your incredibly strong climbers to the front of the peloton, methodically watching for any potential breaks and launching your superstar somewhere on the final climb. You ignored the other jersey competitions, and you rarely went for stage wins. It was a simple strategy, and it was the right one for USPS/Discovery and Armstrong. But with the Maillot Jaune competition wide open -- not to mention the climbers' contest as well -- and without a dominant rider or team, the squads have become far more resourceful.

That's why we saw Zabriskie and Voigt hammering not just up the Col du Lautaret, but daringly down the wet roads on the backside as well, all to put teammate Schleck at the foot of the Alpe with enough time to outdistance the GC contenders....And why Axel Merckx first got himself into the break, and then, upon being dropped, drifted back to fellow Phonaker Landis, to whom he offered a water bottle and then a slipstream-tow for a welcome couple kilometers....And why Mickael Rasmussen, seemingly spent, bridged up to a suffering Denis Menchov, doing everything he could to restore him to the ranks of his Yellow Jersey rivals. It's one of my favorite elements of bicycle racing: that out of such a simple contest -- be the first to the finish line -- you can squeeze intricate tactics. (My other favorite part of all of this is imagining Rasmussen's director's screaming into his earpiece; I wonder what "Make like a real climber and get your bony orange ass up to Menchov now!" sounds like in Dutch?

But the best piece of today was the sheer determination with which so many of the riders raced. Whether it was Menchov twisting himself around his bicycle in a futile attempt to stay with Landis, or de la Fuente going never-say-die after every possible polka-dot point, or Pereiro riding like a real grimpeur, spurred on by the Yellow Jersey on his back; or Schleck himself, gritting his teeth through the final kilometers and then collapsing in a tearful heap on the steps of his team's bus -- each one of these guys and many others "reached deep into his suitcase of courage" and gave us a stage to remember.
_____________________________________________________________________________

All of this strategizing and suitcase-reaching did little to shake up our ranks, though Pete's 2005 Leftovers team did (finally) fall a bit. It's looking like it's going to take at least two jerseys to win the game, and pulling the trifecta isn't out of the question, as de la Fuente isn't easily relinquishing the Maillot a Pois on behalf of Romas' "Team Clean." Meanwhile, there's always the X factor: the Most Combative Award, which we won't know until after the final stage. It could be a Voigt, or a Kessler, even a de la Fuente who takes it and pushes someone to the top. For now, Tony sits atop the standings, though he doesn't know it; he's on his first trip to India to meet the in-laws (and I think it's a trek to Modesto to see mine!). Meanwhile, hard-luck Greg got exactly what he didn't need -- ten points from Schleck, thus pulling him out of the fee-keeping cellar. But as he's expecting his first kid very soon, he has much more important things to consider -- more important even than bike racing.

A demain!
Mike

Stages 13 & 14 - July 16

I'll say it again: this is all taking some getting used to. In the Era of Lance, it would be all sewn up by now. Sure, we'd tell ourselves, "You never know; Ullrich could come back a lot in that final time trial..." or "Basso's really the better climber..." or -- my favorite, from the true aficions of cycling, "Lance can ride well in the Alps, but not the Pyrenees..." -- but you knew it was over after the first time trial and the opening stages through the mountains. Maybe not in '03, but in every other year since 2000, by now, les jeux etait fait.

But this year, A.L. 1, things couldn't be much more different. The jersey has changed torsos seven times; the record for an entire Tour, sure to be tied and possibly broken, is eight. And just when we thought we'd seen our leader Floyd don the Maillot Jaune, and possibly for good, his so much as gave it away -- practically begged Pereiro, or anyone else who wanted it, to take it, so as not to have to protect it on those painfully interminable and sweltering days through Provence. I'm guessing that those aficions would scoff, longing for the days when Coppi/Anquetil/Merckx/Hinault would defend the Yellow Jersey like it was the Golden Fleece, but Phonak's riding strikes me as a whole lot smarter.

Tomorrow, then, we hit the Alps, with the record-breaking heat adding another variable (speaking of which, did I mention that I saw An Inconvenient Truth?). Maybe we find out that Floyd doesn't ride well in the heat -- or that Menchov doesn't, since he's the one from Oryol, Russia, not northern San Diego County. Or maybe Evans' mountain biking-honed climbing is better suited to the cols of the Alps -- or that Sastre's or Kloden's experience will carry them through the throngs of crazed fans up those fabled climbs. And if someone can come out of the Alps with a lead over Landis, will it be enough to survive the final time trial? Again, the only thing I know is that I don't know who's going to win.

Actually, I know something else: de la Fuente isn't going to hang onto that Maillot a Pois Rouge much longer. Rasmussen's clearly too keen on repeating last year's mountain-chicken performance, though his teammate Michael Boogerd might seems intent on making it tough on him. Assuming that I'm right (and Lord knows that's not a safe assumption), then Romas' yellow/green/polka-dot triple threat won't carry him right to the top of our virtual podium, and like the Tour, first place in our game -- and the $220 that goes with it! -- are still up for grabs.

So set those alarms, folks, or leave the door to the baby's room wide open. Set the trainer up in front of the TV, let your boss know you're coming down with something resembling altitude sickness, and gear up for the day I'm trying to convince my kids really is better than Christmas: Alpe d'Huez Day. Don't miss it.

Best,
Mike

Stages 11 and 12 -- July 14

Friends:

Here's what I don't know: who's going to win this Tour. Only I need to keep reminding myself that I don't know this, that we've moved into a different era, one in which the leader after the first big mountain stage isn't necessarily going to be leading into Paris. As many have said, it's definitely a more interesting era during which to watch the Tour de France.

Here's what I do know: I'm a terrible prognosticator. My team is halfway through a steady descent to the valley floor. I started near the summit; today, when I look down I can see Don, Greg and Jordan with some clarity; looking above me, Tony, Walter and Pete '05 sit high atop a nearby col. Maybe I'll just be able to keep my money.

But what I'm mostly talking about is my recent blather about Levi Leipheimer. I was thinking about selling you on my last email being a reverse hex, my modest effort to send some good vibes in the direction of my fellow Northern-Californian/erstwhile-fellow-Utahn-with-a-receding-hairline -- but I don't think you'd buy it. So instead I'll fess up: I was just plain wrong. Here's hoping Levi's back to stay.

And here's really hoping that Floyd stays in yellow. Before this whole hip business came to light, I might have suggested we all root for Menchov, a guy who's been around awhile, has put in his time, and likely didn't have the advantages in life that the American riders probably enjoyed. But now, knowing that this might be Floyd's only real chance, you just have to get behind him. Plus I'm really liking the backwards cap on the podium (more than the sponsors like it, I'd imagine), and the low-key demeanor is becoming endearing.

In fact, the only thing I don't like about Floyd is his riding style. We're back in the days of Indurain, it would seem: steady, big-gear grinds in time trials and up the climbs. No authoritative attacks, no punishing, out-of-the-saddle accelerations. But it works for Floyd, and I'm hoping it works for the next week (though maybe not for the next five years; not that I wish ill upon Landis and his hip, but a more exciting rider would be fun to watch).

Stage 11 was indeed epic, as we saw numerous attacks on the early climbs, forceful -- if ill-advised -- leadership from T-Mobile, a career-worthy effort from Boogerd, and the battle among five, then three of the best riders in this Tour. But we also saw riders moving more methodically, less confidently and -- maybe I'm just imagining this -- more slowly than in the last seven years. After Armstrong's dominance, it was interesting to watch the reluctant, no-you-first racing over the last couple of kilometers, which made Leipheimer's insistent attacks that much more inspiring. (Though my favorite part of the whole day was when Phil Liggett remarked, "And it's a fine set of teeth that Boogerd has now, isn't it?")

So while the first big mountain stage sorted things out a bit, we certainly don't know who will win the Tour. Similarly, our game has sorted itself out considerably, but we don't know who will win. We now have three players -- Tony, Christian and Kat -- holding the Yellow and Green jerseys, and one, Romas, holding all three of the main maillots. The only jersey that's probably not going to change torsos is the white one, as Markus Fothen has taken a seemingly insurmountable lead in that competition, so Rachel and Robin should hold onto those points. But as for the others...Floyd's not invulnerable, de la Fuente will have to battle it out with Rasmussen, and even McEwen won't necessarily wear green all the way to the podium. And as for the Most Combative "red number"...I won't even hazard a guess (since we all know how good I am at that).

_______________________________________________________________________-
Today's stage 12 was one for justification and redemption. Just yesterday Yaroslav Popovych's designation as heir apparent became an apparent error, and along with Hincapie's hopes, Discovery's dreams of continued command died an ignominious death on the road to Pla de Beret. Rather than succumb, though, Popo led a brave attack on a blisteringly hot day. He rode hard, and he rode smart; knowing that he would never outsprint Oscar Friere, he relentlessly attacked the Spaniard and the other two riders in their breakaway group. Three times they caught him, with Alessandro Ballan doing most of the work to close the gap, but the fourth time Ballan couldn't bridge to Popovych's slipstream, and with Friere doing his "Hey, don't look at me, I'm a sprinter" thing, the Discovery rider rode solo to the finish. With that the Ukraine officially replaced Kazakhstan as the Best Former Soviet Republic in the Tour, not counting Menchov's Mother Russia. (But word to Popo: when you cross yourself, it goes left shoulder first, and you only need to do it once. Any good Catholic knows that.)

Friere's third place and Boonen's very tight field sprint win narrows the Green Jersey competition just a smidge. You'll see all of the jersey holdings on the attached sheet, including my creative cut at how Romas' tripartite situation should appear.

Two more flattish stages -- and then a rest day -- and then the glorious Alps!

Best,
Mike

Stage 10 Update -- July 12

Mes amis --

Last April I rode in the Copperopolis Road Race, a particularly nasty contest over such rough roads that its nickname is "The Paris-Roubaix of California." On each lap, we rode not over Belgian cobbles, but torn-up and patched-over country roads in California's Central Valley. Guys in my category rode two laps of 22 miles each, and after those two, if you'd told me you'd give me a Prius if I could stay in for another lap, I'd have suggested that the next guy seemed like he needed a new hybrid worse than me. Meanwhile, the pros rode five laps. Five! 110 miles, including five times up a two mile-long steep pitch that after years of on-the-cheap repairs looks like a patchwork quilt -- and five times down a twisting screamer of a descent with pavement so jarring that when you hit the bottom, your quads feel like you've been riding up, not down.

And Levi Leipheimer won that pro race by riding solo the last two laps. Just rode away from the local pros, who couldn't get back onto this wheel even by working together. Afterward I saw him climbing into his slick black Land Rover (seems that I'll need to sell Levi on An Inconvenient Truth too), and he looked as fresh as the spring flowers that someone told me lined the course, but that I was in too much agony to notice.

At the time I thought, "Jeez, is he that strong, that he can not merely survive this brutal course, but win solo, even knowing that his real racing comes later in the year? Isn't he worried that this is going to take something out of him, that he'll peak too early?" I'd love to suggest that this thought was particularly sage, but it was really just the product of my own insecurity!

Thing is, we might be learning that I was not only insecure, but prescient as well, for Levi seems that he's indeed on the downside of his peak. His sluggish Prologue raised hardly a whisper of concern: he was conserving, and he's no short-effort specialist. And the miserable long time trial was surprising, to say the least, but perhaps he just had a bad day, and besides, he's a climber, right? But to watch him today, a supposed GC contender losing contact with a peloton that included riders who were just happy to survive the first day in the mountains...something's wrong with Levi. Maybe it is exhaustion from too much early-season effort, or perhaps there's something else going on, but it seems as though we've lost yet another "big name," as Phil would deem him. There just aren't too many left!

Meanwhile, we Americans now have a sentimental favorite to get behind. As I'm sure you've all read, Floyd Landis walks, rides and exists on a bum hip that he'll have replaced after this season. A degenerative bone disease -- my understanding is that designation makes it sound much worse a condition than it really is -- is wearing his hip away, and it's already difficult for him to, say, lift his leg over his bike. But he can still ride that bike, and he rides it as well as anyone these days; boy, do I feel bad for poking fun at the way he looks while doing so.

Our first day in the mountains turned out to be even less telling than we'd hoped, as most of the climbers and GC hopefuls decided to hold fire until tomorrow's bigger climbs and summit finish. Not that the guys who stole today's non-main feature of a show are pretenders: Dessel (2nd, now in yellow) and Mercado (1st) are the real climbing deal, as is Landaluze (3rd), winner of last year's Dauphine Libere. It's highly unlikely that any of them will still sit among the leaders come, say, the middle of the Alpine stages, but we might not see Dessel out of yellow for at least a few days.

Such relative unknowns are these guys that only Landaluze scored points for his Directeur Sportif, Romas, who notches up a couple of spots into a tie for sixth. That means we'll have to wait another day to see if the mountains do anything to break the ranks of our sprinter-heavy leaders. In the meantime, no one holds either the Yellow Jersey or the climber's Polka-Dot Jersey (Dessel actually has earned both, but Mercado will wear the latter since the Maillot Jaune takes priority).

Karen remarked this morning that she loves July. Yes, she enjoys the Tour, but what she loves is the fact that when Declan wakes up crying, no matter how early it is, I bound out of bed, grab him and together we watch that morning's stage. And on days like tomorrow -- I may well wake up before he does!

Best,
Mike

Stage 9 Update -- From July 10

Friends:

So did you catch today's mountain stage? That Col de Soudet was a monster, and I couldn't believe that Rujano attacked so early, knowing he still had 100 kilometers to go, including a categorie 1 climb. And the way Floyd and Evans bombed down the backside, only to see Savoldelli attack on the runup to the Marie-Blanque...And how about Pineau, refusing to give up that Polka-Dot Jersey, clinging to every point his lungs and quads could muster?

That doesn't all ring a bell?

That's because today wasn't a mountain stage after all. I'll admit it: I got antsy. I didn't forget that we're entering the Pyrenees particularly late this year; I have a firm intellectual grasp on this year's altered course. But emotionally, that's where I got tripped up. Such a devotee am I of climbing, climbing stages and the climbers themselves that my psyche went into fast forward and I completely blew through today's dead-flat sprinters' stage.

Not that today turned out to be completely forgettable. Yes, it was another long-breakaway-of-lesser-known-riders-on-the-hunt-for-stage-win-glory-who-oh! just barely-get caught-by-the-peloton kind of stage, but it was capped off by another thrilling sprint, with McEwen just missing the victory, but still nabbing the attention. While Oscar Friere, the sprinting Spaniard, pipped the Pocket Pimpernel by the width of a piece of plastic, it was McEwen's wild swerve around Friere, Zabel and Boonen and near-miss at the line that wowed the crowd in Dax and the viewers at home. Boonen, a classics rider who's used to sprinting at the end of a long slog along Belgian cobblestones, and not the sit-in-and-wait-for-the-long-leadout of flat Tour stages, once again went too early and finished fourth. Zabel, who came third, admirably continues to mix it up -- though I wish he wouldn't, because every time he does Phil Liggett talks about how old he is. Thirty-six? Wow, that's old, especially for a cyclist...

Tomorrow, though -- tomorrow! We'll finally reach those glorious peaks of the Pyrenees, and while I don't think that the stage will "blow things apart," considering the long chance to regather after the final col, we should definitely start getting some answers to those questions I asked prematurely.

Which makes me think, I left out one question: can McEwen climb well enough to stay in the Tour, and thus hold onto the Green Jersey? Because his purchase on it gets firmer by the day, which puts a number of our game's players in a more favorable position. On the attached you'll see that the standings are now color-coded to illustrate this and other points: If you're green, one of your riders holds the Green Jersey, and if the Tour ended today, you'd get the associated bonus points. Same for Yellow, Polka-Dot (red) and White, for the Best Young Rider.

A demain,
Mike


Player Points
Walter Lamerton 46
Tony Farrell 42
Pete November 40
Robin Fee 36
Kat Campbell 35
Jodi Hall 31
Tom Lariviere 31
Christian Newman 29
Romas Pencyla 29
Alan Levy 27
Bob Fee 25
Jim Fee 25
Richard Stagliano 25
Tad Sennott 24
Dan Fee 23
Wes Cole 23
Kiernan McGuire 22
Peter Lester 22
Andy Sessions 21
Elizabeth Eppler 21
Rob Kelley 21
Doug Hall 17
Paul Keys 17
Rachel & Robin Bordoli 17
Angela Fee 15
Annetta Stroud 15
David McCarthy 15
Dave Fee 15
Everett Harper 15
Jon Chapman 15
Julie Mikuta 15
Karen Fee 15
Michael Fee 15
Pam Stover 15
Anne Mahle 10
Brandon Correia 8
Don Fee 8
Steve Earhart 8
Jordan Cantwell 2
Greg Widmyer 0

Stage 8 Update -- from July 9

Karen and I saw An Inconvenient Truth last night, and I'm tempted to use this forum to do some proselytizing -- to rant and rave and tell you all the things we all should do to stop global warming. But that's not what this blog is about, so I'll keep it to one simple recommendation: Go see this movie -- soon.

Actually, I'll add another recommendation: Ride your bike. It's such a great thing to do for the environment. Hybrids are an exciting innovation and hopefully a lasting trend, but even they kick out some emissions. Yes, I love the simple act of riding a bike, but when I can indulge in it instead of driving a car, I get to know I'm doing something good for the earth and for myself. Those of you who have at any time considered commuting to work by bike, take a quick look below at the column I wrote for my team's newsletter ("Pneusletter," actually); maybe it will help convince you to give it a shot.

The Tour, of course, is an environmental nightmare: dozens upon dozens of cars, buses, huge vans, RVs and even floats starting their engines, idling for hours and driving throughout France for 21 days. Then again, if the Tour can inspire just a few people to start riding bikes, like the guy I met at Peet's the other day, who started riding when he watched Lance, and now "rides everywhere," and is considering giving up his car...maybe it's all worth it. Environmentally, that is; everyone on this list knows that otherwise, the Tour is well worth any sacrifice.
_____________________________________________________________________________
France nearly hit the sporting world's trifecta this weekend, as it scored a rare stage win with Sylvain Calzati's audacious solo ride through Brittany today, just a day after Amelie Mauresmo got it into her head to get her head out of her game and thus won the Wimbledon women's crown. Alas, the three-fer wasn't to be had, and as much as I'd like to think they're holding their heads high on the Champs-Elysees tonight on the strength of their big cycling and tennis wins, I'm guessing they're instead cursing the name David Trezeguet -- though I hope it's actually "Zinedine Zidane" on their lips, as it's he who decided to, er, lose his head at the very worst time, and whose presence certainly could have helped in those final minutes, and in the shootout itself.

Like I know from soccer.

What I do know is that I really liked Calzati's win today, certainly for its audacity -- and for the fact that he started celebrating 3 kilometers before the line -- but also because no one ended up with him in the random draw, and today's tallies thus took me very little time. Kjell Carlström and Patrice Halgand earned their owners 3 and 1 point, respectively, but in all, today's stage had very little impact on our standings.

Enjoy the rest day, everyone. Maybe use the break to get out and ride your bike?
Mike

I’ve paid my annual dues and ordered a present-generation kit. I closed the season by driving Paul Cook to the Mt. Tam HC, after twelve consecutive leeched rides to the hinterlands of NorCal racing. I intend to show up for next month’s meeting, and now, in my final act to close out my campaign to be the Worst BBC Member Ever, I’m contributing a few thoughts to the Pneusletter.

Jim Rusk has agreed to let me do penance by sharing my thoughts each month on training as a full-time everything-else – boss, dad, lawnmower, weed-puller and laundry-folder, which taken together, and adding in beer-drinker on Friday evenings, pretty much describes my existence.

“So,” you scoff, “the guy wins one race and he thinks he has something to teach us.” Not at all; for while my reaction to winning the Coral Hollow thirty-five-and-over-cat-four-“b”-race-with-a-ton-of-team-support was about what you’d expect from a Grand Tour stage solo win, I’m keeping my expectations very low: we’re really just looking to fill column-inches here. If anyone actually laughs at or heeds my thoughts, that’s gravy.

You’ll note that my plans don’t always fit the Wenzel mode. While I did consider titling these submissions “The Wenzel Weasel” or “Training Advice from Not-Saifer,” I in no way would disparage Scott, Rene, Kendra or their approach to training; they definitely know their stuff. In fact, I consulted with Scott last winter and ended up with my strongest season in years. It’s just that when it comes to all that winter base training, those miles upon absolutely vital miles that shore up your aerobic fitness…I just can’t always swing it.

In my effort to build that base, though, I manage to ride every weekday by way of commuting to work. And that’s my first suggestion on training with chock-full plate: commute, dammit.

You’ve read countless articles on why you should commute and how best to do so. I’ll offer a few thoughts that you might not have seen before:

1. If you have kids, a significant other, any other hobbies to which you would like to commit more time, a fondness for sleep or a job that takes more than six hours of your time each weekday, then commute, dammit.

2. No excuses that your commute is too long. I recently ran into Webcor rider John Kelley (while commuting, in fact). He told me that his only means of training mid-week is commuting from his house in Glenview to his job in (wait for it…) Martinez. It evidently works for him, having stepped onto the pro podium numerous times in the last couple of years.

3. No excuses that your commute is too short. That’s easy: leave a little earlier, find a nearby hill, and route your commute over it.

4. Screw the shower. Everyone wonders about offending coworkers, having worked up a froth of perspiration on the ride in. To which I respond: we’re in Northern California. We get about four days a year when the morning temps are above 70. Unless you’re riding to Martinez, you just don’t sweat that bad – and if you are, just tell them you’re a badass pro rider, and that sweat is part of your other job.

5. Get a cheap commuting bike. If you’re riding a slicked-up mountain or ‘cross bike, or even a straight-bar hybrid, you won’t worry about riding it in the rain or through the potholed urban jungle. One less excuse.

6. On that note, treat yourself with the money you save. I figure I save $100/month just in gas money by not driving to work, so I have no problem spending a little extra to set myself up. I now have a huge Timbuk2 bag, lights, waterproof clothes, fenders and t-shirts that say things like “One Less Car” and “Anti-Terrorist Vehicle.”

7. If you cross the Bay Bridge to work, take the Bike Shuttle, a classic Bay Area institution. It’s a 15-passenger van pulling a 14-bike trailer, filled with every ilk of cyclist, including a heavy, er, “dose” of messengerhood. It costs a buck and gets you across the bridge in record time, owing to the drivers’ willingness to drive on shoulders and sometimes sidewalks. You’ll arrive at work feeling invigorated, in that gritty, urban sense.

I’m sure I have more ideas on why we should all commute, dammit. But that’s more than enough column-inches.

Stage 7 Update -- From July 8

The scene: Yesterday's stage 7 time trial.

Director: Scriiiiipt! Where's my freaking script? And where in God's name is everyone?
Assistant: Haven't seen any scripts for awhile, sir. Any by "everyone," you mean...
Director: I mean everyone who's everyone! Zabriskie, for instance!
Assistant: Um...he finished around 13th.
Director: What? Well how about Hincapie?
Assistant: 24th, sir.
Director: Julich?
Assistant: On his way to the hospital. Crashed.
Director: Well, surely Levi's around. Where's Leipheimer?
Assistant: Um...not really sure, sir.
Director: Excuse me?
Assistant: Just haven't seen him. I think he's back around 96th place.
Director: Is nothing going according to the script? What about Landis? Where's Landis?
Floyd Landis: Right here, dude. It's all good. I'm just having a little handlebar problem.
Director: Well get your handlebars and the rest of your bike and your Mennonite butt across the finish line ASAP!....So who do we have?
Assistant: Well, I can get you Sebastian Lang. He's in thir--
Director: Sebastian Lang? Who in the name of all that is holy is Sebastian Lang?
Assistant: And Sergui Gontchar looks to be our winner!
Director: Sergui Gontchar? SERGUI GONTCHAR? Oh, how I miss Lance...


And so it went yesterday -- not at all according to the script. And the effect has started to play out in our game, as Tom Lariviere, the only player with Gontchar on his team, has vaulted 11 places and now sits in the 7th spot. The Landis-holding throng moved up en masse, owing to the 6 points he earned them. As for those of us holding the other prominent GC contenders -- Evans, Hincapie, Leipheimer -- our chances just diminished slightly, substantially and altogether, respectively.

Many questions, fortunately, remain to be answered, and we'll get peeks at those answers on Tuesday, after tomorrow's rest day. Chief among them: can Gontchar climb? And can Floyd climb like he needs to? Will the real Leipheimer show up? Can a pure climber turn this non-climber's Tour into a climber's Tour? When, on the morning of the rest day, Mike awakens and bounds downstairs and turns on the TV, already set to OLN, only to find a rebroadcast of the "Shooting USA" episode with guest star Dan Pastorini, will he burst into tears, go back to bed, or just mope around all day?

We shall see...
Mike

P.S. BIG riding day for me today: a good four hours in the saddle, including two 45-minute crits. And then I remembered that the guys in the Tour ride 3-4 hours on their rest days. Guess I can count myself out of that pro contract...

Update: Stage 6 - From July 7

Friday night, and I'm home alone. At least, Karen's out with Catie and her friend, attending a local production of Annie. Declan's in bed, and Mack and his friend are in the backyard playing. I'm home alone on a Friday night -- and I couldn't feel much more content. I have a glass of wine in my hand, and I've just watched the last 20 kilometers of today's stage -- for the second time. Phil and Paul's voices still echo through my head, and the sight of Robbie McEwen vaulting himself from the expert leadout of Gert Steegmans to another win is still a vivid picture before me. Tomorrow the "second Tour" begins, and my head will thus rest easily on my pillow tonight, as I drift off knowing that as much as I've enjoyed following the Tour this week, it's only just begun.

Of course, this Tour is an odd one. In years past, we were heading into the mountains by this time, whereas this year we're stopping just briefly from the all-sprinters-all-the-time routes of this first week; after tomorrow's long time trial, we'll watch two more relatively flat stages, followed by one that, while mountainous, to say the least, should see a large group arrive at the finish together, a long descent having brought many of the non-climbers back to the head of the peloton. Only on Thursday, halfway into the Tour, will we see our first true mountain stage, capped off by a finish at 1800 meters at Pla-de-Beret, which is French for "Place so high you need to wear a goofy French hat."

Nonetheless, within twelve hours of this writing we'll have a whole new Tour on our hands. Boom-boom Boonen will no longer wear yellow; instead, it will be Oh-Boy Floyd, or Aussie-Aussie-Aussie-oy-oy-oy Mick Rogers, or maybe Dave Zabriskie, known unoriginally to his friends as "Z-man," but to unsqueamish Jewish cycling fans as "Bris." No matter what, the Tour should look very different very soon.

But our standings might not. Walter's lead appears commanding, especially in light of the fact that I'm pretty sure Pete's second-place team is actually the one he submitted last year, and that I never changed when he failed to submit a team this year. That McEwen-Boonen combo was mighty prescient, Pete! (Though maybe not the Vino/Botero one-two.) With a ten-point lead over Robin and Tony, and seventeen points ahead of his fair bride Kat, Walter could well ride a strong Hincapie time trial to many more days at the front of the pack -- perhaps all the way to Paris.

Of course, there's a lot of racing still to come, and even if this year isn't one for the climbers (so why did I pick Evans and Rujano?), Hincapie's still an awfully big steed to ride over the Tourmalet and the Galibier, and on up to Alpe d'Huez.

Have a great weekend, everyone!
Mike

Update: Stages 4&5 -- from July 6

Phil Liggett has taken to calling Robbie McEwen "the Pimpernel." Unfortunately, I have no idea what a pimpernel is, though -- I have a vague recollection of a scarlet one from history, literature or both -- so I'm going to call the Aussie sprinter "the Declan" instead. Like my young son, McEwen has an uncanny ability to disappear when you take your eyes off of him. And like Declan, when he reappears, he's in the ideal position to inflict maximum damage.

Of course, McEwen inflicts his damage not by spilling a flowerpot that was just a moment ago resting on a ledge that you were sure he couldn't get to, but by jostling, sneaking and otherwise finding his way through the thicket of sprinters at the end of a stage, often finishing out front of the guys who seemed best positioned to win. That's how he did it in Stage 2, when even in the slo-mo replay I couldn't pick him out from behind his much larger adversaries -- until he suddenly emerged out front and took the stage.

Yesterday, however, Robbie did it the old fashioned way: He wound it up about 150 metres out, launching a commanding sprint and very quickly putting a good 10 metres between him and Boonen, Hushovd and his other rivals. Something about that uphill finished suited the "Pocket Rocket" well -- strength-to-weight ratio, don't you know -- so that he was able simply to outclass the others, and not, for once, to outfox them.

But perhaps the effort tired him out a bit, for he missed his cue this morning and finished out of the money (at least for our purposes). Three-time world champion Oscar Friere appeared looking more like his former self than a shadow thereof, spurned the tangle of bikes and bodies on the right side of the finishing straight, and with a very Spanish "I think not" rode his own line to the win. Friere, by the way, is my favorite kind of winner, not because he's Spanish, or because this signals a bit of a comeback, but because no one has him on his or her team, and I thus don't have to spend any time entering points for him.

So over the last two days we've seen Boonen earn 7 points for his many, many teams by holding onto the Yellow Jersey and taking second place in stage 4. Hushovd remains our leading point-earner with 15, but McEwen and Boonen are moving up fast, and we Thor-holders are starting to fade. Tomorrow will likely be Terrible Tom's final chance to win a stage while wearing the Maillot Jaune, as the sprinters go wheel-to-wheel for the last time before the time trial. And as Brandon said, that's when things get really interesting!

Really wishing Valverde (and Danny) had kept his collarbone intact,
Mike

Stage 3 Recap (from July 4, 2006)

After some back-and-forth with generous donor Rob Kelley, we've determined that the A&D blood pressure monitor will go to the owner of the team who loses the most riders to crashes. This was Karen's idea, actually; she figured it was an appropriate criterion for a prize that's medical in nature, and Rob and I agreed. Granted, this creates some odd, adverse motivation, as some of us may well end up silently watching for our riders to crash, but I'm not terribly concerned; while the monitor is indeed a very generous prize, I don't see any of you traveling to France to take out one of your riders, a la Eddy Merckx getting kidney-punched while going for his sixth Tour win.

An important note: I SWEAR WE DECIDED ON THIS CRITERION BEFORE TODAY'S STAGE.

This last point is relevant because today proved brutal, and not only in the way the final climb, the famed Cauberg (pronounced "Coe-berg," unless you're Bob Roll, in which case it's "Cow-bareg") tore apart the peloton, but also in terms of crashes that ended this year's run for a few notable riders, including Alejandro Valverde, the star of many a team -- including mine. With Valverde, Erik Dekker and Fred Rodriguez all out, Dave Fee and Everett Harper lead in that dubious competition -- though if Stuart O'Grady is unable to start tomorrow, a few others will join them..

Among those who managed to keep the rubber on the road today included winner Matthias Kessler, yesterday's near-hero who launched another blistering, late-stage attack, this time not getting swallowed by the bunch just metres before the line, but lasting long enough to best a surprising, surging Michael Rogers and Daniele Bennati. Kessler, a German riding for T-Mobile, managed to lift the spirits ever so slightly of both his countrymen and his sponsors, who recently lost their World Cup match and their star rider, Jan Ullrich, respectively. Keeping a little extra rubber on the road was Tom Boonen, who rode a squishy tire through the last few kilometers, finished fourth and took over the Maillots Jaune and Vert. He'll wear yellow tomorrow as he rides out of Huy, in his homeland of Belgium; with the next few stages all top tube-flat (and I'm not talking about one of these goofy sloping ones, right Doug? :-) don't expect Boonen to lose either jersey anytime soon.

All of this does little to shape our standings -- yet. The Boonen holders are climbing through the ranks, ever so slowly, and may well surge in the coming pre-mountain days. Of course, for those of us holding Valverde, even the mountains may not bring any relief.

A demain -
Mike

Player Points
Walter Lamerton 32
Bob Fee 25
Jim Fee 25
Jodi Hall 25
Tony Farrell 23
Kat Campbell 16
Alan Levy 15
Elizabeth Eppler 15
Everett Harper 15
Michael Fee 15
Pete November 14
Richard Stagliano 14
Kiernan McGuire 12
Peter Lester 11
Anne Mahle 10
Christian Newman 10
Romas Pencyla 10
David McCarthy 8
Don Fee 8
Paul Keys 8
Rob Kelley 8
Steve Earhart 8
Wes Cole 8
Dan Fee 7
Doug Hall 7
Rachel & Robin Bordoli 7
Andy Sessions 5
Angela Fee 5
Annetta Stroud 5
David Fee 5
Jon Chapman 5
Julie Mikuta 5
Karen Fee 5
Pam Stover 5
Tad Sennott 5
Tom Lariviere 5
Brandon Correia 2
Jordan Cantwell 2
Greg Widmyer 0
Stacy Caldwell 0

Stages 1 & 2 Recap (from July 4, 2006)

2003: Now that was a Tour for the ages. Ullrich in good health, threatening Armstrong; Beloki's crash and Lance's subsequent deft cyclo-cross move across the field, thus maintaining contact with the group chasing a surging Vinokourov; Hamilton's finishing the Tour -- and winning a breakaway stage -- with a broken collarbone; and of course Armstrong's run-in with a musette bag on the way to Luz-Ardiden, where he would silence the naysayers and position himself for his record-tying fifth win. A true classic.

There were subplots to the subplots as well, and far down the list was Jimmy Casper's story. A sprinter who would struggle through the mountains without an additional handicap, Casper also broke his collarbone, and also went on to finish the Tour. Karen and I stood on the slopes of that year's first big climb, and watched Richard Virenque blaze through, and then the other climbers, with Armstrong and his USPS support crew, and then second-tier climbers...and then the bigger men of the flatlands...and then the "laughing group" of sprinters too big for the climbs...and then Casper, riding bolt upright, his neck in a brace. I'd always wanted to ride in the Tour (not that I ever came even close to being close, of course), and would have traded, well, what Armstrong traded to do so (that is, a testicle), but I remember thinking, "There's no pro contract large enough that would make me want to be Casper's cleats today."

Which is all relevant because it all came back around for Casper yesterday, as he scored his first stage win. Granted, it happened after Hushovd stopped his sprint when one of those goofy giant, green foam hands tore a gash in his arm, and reportedly after a flying bag filled with water distracted Boonen (who had started his sprint far too early) -- but that's just fine with Jimmy Casper, a Frenchman who inexplicably shares a name with that kid you played hockey with in high school and who still lives back home, working in his dad's beer distributorship; a stage win is a stage win, replete with glory and sponsors' gratitude.

Casper's win gives five points to Kiernan, who will gladly take the extra help from a non-priced, randomly selected winner. But Hincapie, who took over the Yellow Jersey after a very clever go at an intermediate time bonus, adds two points to the totals of the twelve players holding his big frame on their team. Full rankings below.
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I conducted the lottery for the winner of the CTS jersey yesterday, after figuring out just who'd paid on time, and the winner (either entirely fittingly or not at all) is Angela "Mom" Fee. Anjo-banjo, as her grandkids call her, has been saying she'd like to try spinning classes, so this is going to work out just perfectly. Congratulations, Mom, and thanks, CTS!
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I failed to get the preceding update out yesterday, and didn't get a chance to see stage 2 (traveling with the family; priorities...), so will add the quickest of synopses for the latter. Sounds like a happily normal stage, complete with the requisite breakaway that got caught just before the line (can we add some drama and just get rid of those radios?) and a mad sprint in which McEwen nipped Boonen, perhaps with a little Aussie jostling involved. Hard-luck Hushovd unclipped from his pedal but managed to grab third, a time bonus and the Yellow Jersey back from Hincapie. Those of us holding the Hammer are enjoying the return we're getting on that investment, while Boonen is just now beginning to pay off. The standings below reflect the addition of Walter, whose team I'd failed to enter. His Hincapie-Hushovd-McEwen triumvirate vaults him into the lead.

Do your best to watch Tuesday's stage, which travels some famed cobbled climbs in Belgium; expect a Boonen-Hincapie showdown.

Updated Rider List, Reminders and a Lament (from 6/28/06)

Friends:

Just three days until the first rider rolls down the ramp in Strasbourg, and there is a sad spectre haunting Europe -- or Spain, to be exact, though he's been seen drifting over Germany, the U.S. and even Kazakhstan. It's the spectre of performance-enhancing drugs, and it's threatening to darken the dawn of our beloved Tour. Every Tour brings its allegations and suspicions, of course, but this year they are gloomier and more widespread than any Tour since 1998, when l'affaire Festina dragged down Richard Virenque (though just for a few years), the powerful Festina team and much of cycling. Like baseball in 1998, when McGwire and Sosa resurrected fan interest and love of the game, cycling was rescued by Armstrong's ascendance in 1999; and like baseball in 2006, when allegations about drug use cloud what could otherwise be a season for the ages, whispers and out-and-out shouts of EPO use threaten to make this Tour an asterisked one.

In the interest of keeping our game fully democratic and accessible, I'll disclose what the heck I'm talking about here: a number of Spanish riders may be prohibited from riding in the Tour, though I've read no names of real note. Meanwhile, Alexandre Vinokourov's team may be banned; if they are, Vino himself may miss out, or he may be able to jump on with a new team. And even Jan Ullrich himself has been associated with the Spanish figures who are allegedly behind the scandal, though latest reports suggest that the Rock Star from Rostock will be allowed to race. These riders remain on our list, and I'm not going to drop their price, even if their beta is a bit higher these days; it's up to you whether to take the risk or not, and besides, I've forgotten the Black-Scholes formula.

On that note, you'll find pasted below and attached an updated rider list, with McEwen straightened out, as well as a list of people who have told me they're playing, and whether you've submitted your team and your payment. There's a good chance that I'm not up-to-date on everyone who's paid, so let me know if you did -- on your honor!

Meanwhile, remember:
To participate, you must submit your five riders by Friday at midnight (note that this is 24 hours later than originally suggested; I'm doing this in part because some of the doping decisions are coming down on Friday). Your five can't cost more than DM1,000,000, and there can only be five and five only. You may make changes to your team up until this new deadline.
To qualify for the CTS jersey drawing, you must pay up by Friday at midnight. Send $10 to 2600 Camino Lenada/Oakland, CA 94611 or $11 Paypal to mackfee@hotmail.com
Please let me know if you've gone to http://www.trainright.com/promos.asp?code=DQKSBGBJN to download your Do the Tour workouts -- I'd love to hear what you think!

I'm traveling this weekend -- and of course have staked out TVs with OLN along our route -- and thus may not get the first update out until Sunday or Monday. I'll likely do the jersey drawing that day --something early for everyone to look forward to!

Unless our Tour's start is spoiled by scandal. Let's hope not.

Best,
Mike

P.S. Karen has selected Team Hottie. Let's just say that in cycling, it's all relative.

Tour Game Update: Reminders and a Special Feature

Mes amis:

First, just a couple of reminders:
We're up to 36 players, and I've heard from a number of others, so if you haven't done so yet, please send in your money. It's $10 to 2600 Camino Lenada/Oakland, CA 94611, or $11 Paypal to mackfee@hotmail.com (our Paypal account is under Karen's name; no, this is not some laundering scheme). Get that money in by the start of the Prologue and you'll be entered into the drawing for the CTS jersey (though I in no way intend to conduct a simple drawing; we'll come up with some convoluted, Tour-oriented means of picking a winner).
Speaking of which, be sure to go to to learn about CTS' Do the Tour feature, and to download your first workouts. I've received our first report from one of our players, who told me that the Prologue-based workout was a very intense one.
We've lost a few riders to injury and questionable coaches' selections, so I'm pasting and attaching an updated rider price list. You can make changes to your team up until the final deadline.

Next, to the important element of this email: a new feature intended to make the FLKTDFFG more accessible to the layfan: a little something I'm calling "Theme and Dream Teams." Not simple all-star dream teams, these (if I could come up with that, I'd have actually won some money in this thing at some point; besides, the pure Dream Team concept went out with Magic, Bird and Jordan in Barcelona); rather, those of you who are finding the prospect of selecting a team to be rather daunting can select one of the following theme-based teams. Note that this is no gimmick! I'm pretty convinced that any one of these teams could compete handily against the expert picks that many of us will try to make. Plus, they're all legal, as all of them will fall within the DM1,000,000 limit.

Here, then, are the Theme and Dream Teams:

Team Hottie: My lovely assistant Karen will assist me in selecting the five best-looking riders from the price list. (Not that I couldn't or wouldn't do it myself; in fact, I'd feel perfectly comfortable doing so. It's just that Karen really seems to relish this opportunity.) Team Hottie members will include some chiseled northern European jaws and some luxuriant Italian coifs. Based on my preliminary, entirely comfortable and confident scan of rider photos, our first decision is going to be choosing between Boonen and Basso. Other candidates include Valverde, Caucchiolo, Simoni and Leipheimer, as long as he doesn't remove his helmet. Remember: while looking good doesn't necessarily translate into riding well, it sure can make watching them ride more enjoyable.

Team Not-So-Hottie: I'd never be so insensitive as to deem a rider (or anyone else) aesthetically unpleasing -- until he or she mounts a bike. Then they're fair game, since characterizing a rider's on-cycle appearance is one of the sport's proven pastimes (what else are you going to do on a six hour training ride?). Guys like Francisco "Lurch" Mancebo and Alexandre "Flying Forehead" Vinokourov sure can ride a bike -- and sure look ugly while doing so. Other candidates include Floyd "Soggy Goatee" Landis and Michael "Chicken with the Flu" Rasmussen.

Team Tempting Fate: Imagine a team comprised entirely of riders who have been either convicted of or strongly suspected of performance-enhancing drug use -- and imagine the suspense, knowing that at any moment, any one of them could vault to glory -- or plummet to suspension. Whether it's David Millar, Danilo DiLuca or anyone on Liberty Seguros Wurth, this Theme Team will surely liven things up for its owner.

Team Rip Waters: Named for a college friend who had the coolest name ever, especially for a water polo player, this Theme and Dream Team will be made up of guys with sweet names. Likely members include Tom Boonen (because it rhymes with "phonin'" not "spoonin'"), Thor Hushovd, Paolo Savodelli, and Stuart O'Grady. Levi Leipheimer may make the cut; I can't decide if his name is bold in its alliteration, or just Children of the Corn-creepy. Floyd, Mayo, and Boogerd will definitely not make it, but Joost Posthuma may get a special promotion to priced-rider status just to be eligible for this team, for very obvious reasons.

The Armadita, aka Little Spanish Dudes who Go Uphill Really Fast: Again, I don't mean to be insensitive; like Snoop Dogg, I'm just sayin' it like it izz. As in years past, Spain has produced an incredible set of climbers, all of whom weigh in at about a buck-thirty, and all of whom rode the Pyrenees when they were still on training wheels. Likely members: Mayo, Marchante and Rujano; I may include Rasmussen in order to promote diversity in the ranks.

So there you have them -- this year's Theme and Dream Teams. Other possibilities: a team based on riders from countries with strong World Cup teams, Team America and Team Unfulfilled Potential.

If you're staring at the rider list and just not sure where to start, feel free to send me a quick email saying, "Hey Mike -- I at least want to enjoy watching the Tour, so sign me up for Team Hottie," or "Mike, I just love saying 'Stuart O'Grady' in my best Phil Liggett voice, so I'll take Team Rip Waters."

Again, I bet your chances are just as good as anyone else's.

Counting the days -
Mike

Tour Game: How to Play (from July 19, 2006)

Less than two weeks, friends -- time enough to request 13 mornings off from your boss, convince your kids that Noggin doesn't broadcast in July and of course pick the team that you're certain will take the top spot on our virtual podium.

This email, then, will let you know how to do just that: how to pick a team of riders and generally how to engage, mano a mano (there it is, the first Liggettism, and well before the Tour's even started) in this contest.

How to Play
Here are the steps you'll take in order to play:
1. Tell me that you want to play. (I've listed below those of you who have signed up thus far).
2. Send me $10 (to 2600 Camino Lenada/Oakland, CA 94611) or $11 Paypal (to mackfee@hotmail.com). I've starred the names of those of you who have paid up.
3. Pick your team.
4. Sit back, watch the Tour and hope you win.

All pretty self-explanatory, except perhaps #3. Thus, the next section is devoted to:

How to Pick your Team
Everyone is allotted DM1,000,000. (This year's obsolete European currency is deutschemarks, in honor of our Teutonic football hosts, and as a begrudging nod to the Janster.)
You'll "spend" those million marks on five riders -- no more, no fewer -- by consulting the price list that I've attached and pasted below. Send these names to me by midnight on Thursday, June 29. Note that the prices were carefully developed after hours of combing through stage profiles, team composition, results in the three jersey competitions for the last fifty years, UCI rankings, rider biorhythms and Zodiac signs...aw, screw it; I based the prices on what seemed about right. (If you're concerned about this method, please see rule #1, below).
I'll then randomly add four riders to each team to round our numbers out to nine, the same as the Tour teams themselves. (We do this so that we're all only selecting from among the big names, thus encouraging even the casual fan to join in. Of course, if the only "big name" you know rhymes with "farm-thong" and no longer appears on the list, you might want to go to your local bike shop and pick up a guide to the Tour.)

Scoring (No, Bob Burlinson, this section is not about what you think/wish it is.)
Points will be awarded similarly to last year, with one key change that you'll note below.
The top three placers in every stage will earn 5, 3 and 1 point, respectively.
Mountain stages and time trials, including the prologue, count double.
At the end of the Tour, winners of the four jerseys and the one red number earn bonus points for their teams as follows:
-Le Maillot Jaune, which goes to the overall winner (see how democratic and accessible this all is?) earns 20 points.
-Winners of les Maillot Vert et Pois, or green sprinter's and polka-dotted climber's jerseys, earn 15 points each for their teams.
-The white Best Young Rider's Jersey earns 10 points
-As does the Most Combative Award, designated with a red number on the rider's jersey. (And, as is my annual wont, I'd like to take a moment to praise any sport that awards a participant not for mere aggressiveness, but for combativity. WARRIORS these men are -- soldiers, or knights of olde; of course, they do differ a bit, in that instead of big guys wearing fatigues or armor, they're really really skinny and they wear lycra.)
Bonus feature -- new this year! The wearer of the Yellow Jersey at the end of each day earns his team an extra two points.
If one of your self-selected riders is busted for doping, you lose 50 points. (Hey, just because Barry Bonds can get away with it doesn't mean any of us can!)

Winning
The overall points leader wins 55% of the pot. If we get 40 people to play, that's $214.50!
Second place gets 30%
Third place earns 15%
Dead last gets his/her money back (which is why the math doesn't work out in bullet #1, Tom Lariviere)

Other Rules
1. No whining about prices! If we're all working with the same list, it's fair, right? And no correcting my French, either.
2. Trash talking is highly encouraged. (But let's remember what we're about: friends, family, the beauty of cycling and spirited competition. Of course, talking smack about riders for their nationality/odd names/pink uniforms/funny riding style/absurd haircuts is always encouraged).
3. The most important rule of all: If anyone so much as mentions the results of that day's stage prior to the final West Coast broadcast on OLN, s/he will be penalized severely. As most of you are likely already aware, watching the Tour as if it were live is one of this life's true joys, and I won't have it ruined -- for me or anyone else. This year, I'm considering such penalties as Clockwork Orange-style forced watching of the 2004 OLN "special interest" pieces featuring Kirsten Gum, or being made to stand on the roadside during next year's Tour of California, yelling "Go Lance! Go Lance!" whenever riders go by.

That, and don't hesitate to ask questions. If it seems that I enjoy doing this and that answering your emails allows me to procrastinate working, you're absolutely right (not a word to anyone, Anne Mahle!), so don't hold back.

Bonne chance, everyone!
Mike

First Up: the FLKTDFFG

I'll be using this blog as a way to post the updates from my Tour de France Fantasy Game, something that for one month a year I spend way too much time on. Enjoy!

Mike


Friends:

You've purchased your copy of the Velo News Guide to the Tour...

You've set your TiVo to record every OLN Cyclysm Sunday since Paris-Tours...

To get a personal feel for steepness and terrain, you've scouted nearby climbs known for their similarity to the Tourmalet, the Galibier and Alpe d'Huez (well, perhaps not you Minnesotans and Floridians)...

You've downloaded the podcast "Cycling Insight" and listen on the way to work...*

You've written probability models, accounting for the particularities of this year's course (for it is a peculiar one)...


WELL, STOP IT!

THIS WHOLE THING IS GETTING WAAAAAY OUT OF HAND.

All you people taking this Tour de France thing far too seriously...It doesn't start for another three weeks, for Lance's sake!

So get your priorities straight:
(1) Let me know if you're in.
(2) Send your money ($10) to 2600 Camino Lenada/Oakland, CA 94611 -- or Paypal ($11 -- that's right; we're introducing a service charge) to mackfee@hotmail.com.
(3) Send this to anyone who's notably absent from the addressee list, or whom you think should get it (first priority goes to last year's participants).
(4) Spend the next few weeks watching soccer/football while I take 24/7 to get my act together, having lost last year's everything to a hard drive crash.

And in case you are having doubts about participating this year, having perhaps lost either interest with Armstrong's retirement, or focus with the advent of this whole "World Cup" thing, allow me to get you up to speed regarding the favorites for the overall win (or the "GC" -- remember?):

• Ivan Basso is changing his name to He-man Bad-ass-o, having crushed -- crushed -- the competition in the Giro d'Italia, and generally looking indomitable all season long.
• Jan Ullrich returned from his annual OktoberthroughDecemberfest a kilo or two lighter than usual, even after having grown at least 100 extra grams of hair on his freckled melon. His strong showing in the Giro's long time trial bodes well for this TT-heavy Tour.
• Floyd Landis cleaned up all spring long, starting with the Tour of California, where he beat out Levi Leipheimer even in the climbing-heavy stages. Of course...
• Levi Leipheimer ain't Ivan Basso, and the Tour of California ain't the Tour de France.
• Alexandre Vinokourov has either been savvily quiet or underperforming, perhaps owing to a drug scandal on his Liberty Seguros team.
• George Hincapie snapped a shoulder ligament after snapping a handlebar on the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix, tragically, but seems on track for a return to form by July 1. (Pssst: a rider whose body Phil Liggett once referred to as "a massive carcass" can't win the Tour de France, no matter how few mountaintop finishes the route includes.)
• All those other guys have a better shot than in any of the last seven years.

And that's about all you need to know -- for now. I do look forward to hearing from all of you, and hopefully a few others; how does a field of 40 sound?

Until July 1, then; I'll see you in Strasbourg for the Prologue!
Mike


*Warning: For cycling geeks only! If you are indeed looking for a leg up, but would like to be thoroughly entertained while getting it, I highly recommend pulling off the podcast "Cycling Insight," which you can find on iTunes. Billed as "hard hitting and controversial commentary" on the world of professional cycling, it's actually two Australian former cyclists who unleash their very dry and fairly sophomoric wit on cycling and cyclists, all while listening to heavy metal and consuming beer and chocolate. Not for the faint of heart, or for those who don't find humor in references to Sean Kelly's seat tube angle, but for those of us who do, it's well worth a download.