Tour de France - the final word..
July 27th 2009 11:08
Well, the 2009 Tour de France has finally ended, leaving thousands of sleep-deprived Lycra fetishists to catch up on some sorely needed rest.
It is around this time every year that people pretend to give a shit about cycling for one month in a shameless attempt to do the following: use French words such as pelaton, pass ill-informed gay comments about the sheer romanticism of the French countryside, and make awkward water-cooler conversation with co-workers while feigning interest on the stage progress and “yellow jersey” aspirations of a bunch of ‘roided-up nobodies in a “sport” no-one really gives a fuck about. Too harsh? Probably.
As a former Tour de France contender, SportingMind braved the tough French Alps on several occasions. I know exactly how hard it is to get up each morning and ride 40km up an implausibly steep mountain, when you would much prefer to be picking grapes in one of the many delightful boutique vineyards that southern France has to offer. When all you feel like doing is checking into a gorgeous little off-the-track Bed and Breakfast, ordering a crispy brioche and cafe au lait and amusing the owner’s 15-year-old daughter with your basic knowledge gleaned from a French phrase book. By Jesus, it's extraordinarily hard work, but there's something deep inside each competitor that powers them on to the finish line: anabolic steroids.
But there’s no denying that Le Tour is a hell of a spectacle. And while Australia’s top cyclist Cadel Evans had a terrible time this tour, I still respect everything he stands for. He is possibly the surliest, strangest and most unmarketable sportsman Australia has to offer, but he just doesn’t give a shit about what people think of him. And I dig that.
-SportingMind
It is around this time every year that people pretend to give a shit about cycling for one month in a shameless attempt to do the following: use French words such as pelaton, pass ill-informed gay comments about the sheer romanticism of the French countryside, and make awkward water-cooler conversation with co-workers while feigning interest on the stage progress and “yellow jersey” aspirations of a bunch of ‘roided-up nobodies in a “sport” no-one really gives a fuck about. Too harsh? Probably.
As a former Tour de France contender, SportingMind braved the tough French Alps on several occasions. I know exactly how hard it is to get up each morning and ride 40km up an implausibly steep mountain, when you would much prefer to be picking grapes in one of the many delightful boutique vineyards that southern France has to offer. When all you feel like doing is checking into a gorgeous little off-the-track Bed and Breakfast, ordering a crispy brioche and cafe au lait and amusing the owner’s 15-year-old daughter with your basic knowledge gleaned from a French phrase book. By Jesus, it's extraordinarily hard work, but there's something deep inside each competitor that powers them on to the finish line: anabolic steroids.
But there’s no denying that Le Tour is a hell of a spectacle. And while Australia’s top cyclist Cadel Evans had a terrible time this tour, I still respect everything he stands for. He is possibly the surliest, strangest and most unmarketable sportsman Australia has to offer, but he just doesn’t give a shit about what people think of him. And I dig that.
-SportingMind
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