AG2R

I have a grudging respect for a team who, in the face of universal bitching over their corporate colours, have refused to bow to peer pressure and face 2014 with a raucous ‘Fuck you! MOAR BROWN!’.  This strategy might prove a little dangerous, as none of the riders will be targeting their respective National Championships for fear of ending up riding a season dressed like Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo.

Most likely to be seen:  doing absolutely nothing all year then winning a middle-week stage of the Tour.

Astana

What happens when you take the meanest motherfuckers from the hardest European cycling gulags, and dress them for season upon season in turquoise and lemon?  This is the psychological experiment the Kazakh Mini-Cyc has been conducting sine 2007, with mixed success.  This year they’ve ramped up the turquoise to try and make Nibali really angry.

Most likely to be seen:  frantically deleting emails.

BMC

It looks like the budget for developing a new kit design was blown on Cadel Evans’ HRT and Taylor Phinney’s Brylcream allowance.  The once edgy and stylish BMC get-up is now looking a little tired.  Consider this a written request for a re-boot in 2015.

Most likely to be seen:  very quietly replacing the old guard with a new generation.

Belkin

Although I’m totes over the rake of black ‘wish we wore Rapha’ kits that have cropped up for this year, I like the simple style of this one.  And I like that Belkin are pioneering a brave new ‘Your Name Here’ sponsorship strategy for the major races.  And, because I’m nothing if not contrary, I like the Belkin green with the Bianchi Celeste on the bikes too, so ner*.

Most likely to be seen:  balls deep in a blood feud with Movistar.

*The Cyclist wishes it to be known that he has attempted to point out to me just how utterly wrong I am about this.

Cannondale

Everyone’s favourite bum-pinching, beard-dying, Slovakian mean green biking machine and his henchmen keep their 2013 look.  At least it’s not black.

Most likely to be seen:  with matching collars and cuffs.

Europcar

Very minor changes from the 2013 jersey for Europcar’s step back up to the top ranks, sticking with the dark green ‘n’ black.  Following the sad demise of Euskaltel, I’ll personally be looking to Europcar to take up the mantle of peloton skittles.  And I’m pleased to report they’re already starting well on this track with Voeckler’s Australian collarbone antics.

Most likely to be seen:  wearing spotty shorts in July.

FDJ

It is with a heavy heart I still mourn the loss of the perv-tastic white wet-weather danger kit, with FDJ continuing to opt for MOR mid-bleu.  Quel ennui.

Most likely to be seen:  in a Bastille day breakaway.

Garmin

Last year’s Gar-meh has had a welcome facelift, with a particularly cheeky rear view accessorised with the team’s new spirit animal, the WWF Panda.  We’ll have to wait for 2014’s doping scandals to blow up to see if the patented Vaughters Teflon coating from 2012 and 2013 has been applied to this year’s jerseys.

Most likely to be seen:  accompanied by a man in a panda suit. At all times.

Giant-Shimano

For a rebrand of last year’s most exciting team, this is almost criminally dull.  I am, however, prepared to award points based on the fact that Giant stepped up to title sponsor at short notice.  I expect better in 2015, and by better I mean flames and guns and ninjas and shit.

Most likely to be seen:  on all of the podiums, and most of the podium girls.

Katusha

More white, less red.  Katusha peaked in 2011 with a kit featuring the outline of the spectacular and iconic St Basil’s Cathedral – because why would you not have that on a jersey? It rocks So. Hard. Sadly, now replaced with the Russian letter ‘Oooosh’.  Which does not rock so hard.

Most likely to be seen:  throwing everything behind J-Ro. 

Lampre- Merida

The switch from a sky blue to a navy blue base renders this notably less of a hot mess than last year’s kit.  Lampre, now dangerously below their UCI regulation Italian Team Hot Mess quota, look to have been forced to rectify the situation with a hot mess of a (rumoured) late addition to the team roster.

Most likely to be seen:  a bloody mile off.

Lotto-Belisol

A retro-fabulous complete makeover.  Well-played, you big sexy Belgian bastards.  You’ll still peak too early in the season though.

Most likely to be seen:  Tearing it up at the Tour…. of Qatar.

Movistar

No change, yet again for Movistar.  Can’t say I really blame them, though this is still looking good.  All eyes on the Quintanas (Quintanae?) for 2014.

Most likely to be seen:  climbing the fuck out of shit.

Omega Pharma Quick Step

This is hands down the worst kit of the year, with zero redeeming features.  The blue piping made me do a bit of a sick in my mouth.  I can only assume it’s to encourage Cav over the line in first so he can get the disgusting thing off.  I won’t look at it any more.

Most likely to be seen:  attempting a classic shake-and-bake in the sprints.

Orica Greenedge

Those dirty sweet Aussies keep their green and blue good looks for another year, albeit with a few minor tweaks.  Gorgeous.  I’m pretty sure these bad boys can do no wrong.

Most likely to be seen:  checking the height of their bus.

Sky

Based on the 2014 ‘Black is the new Blue’, the team the others want to look like.  We’ve all seen the stripper skinsuit and it can’t just be me who’s imagining team camp Brazilians and enormous breakfast bust-ups over who has to go behind Stannard in TTT practice.  Given the massive public enthusiasm for the Rapha/Sky hookup, this year the range has been expanded to include a fully poseable My Little Eisel complete with realistic brushable hair and Rapha branded Limited Edition Team Issue Dream Diary*.

Most likely to be seen:  furiously denying team rifts.

*Seriously. I made that up. They’d sell out if they did though.

Tinkoff-Saxo

When banks collide.  Last year’s corporate clusterfuck lives to fight another day, and its still fugly as hell.  Look deep into Alberto’s eyes in the publicity shots and you can hear his desperation.  “Help me. Help me.”

Most likely to be seen:  having a massive social media meltdown

Trek

A kit that literally screams “We are desperate for a headline sponsor!.”  Even the perpetually grinny Fabian Cancellara is struggling to look happy about this.  It’s just so goddamn dreary.

Most likely to be:  Something – Trek this time next year.

* * * * *

Editor’s note: For an excellent reference of what the 2014 peloton will look like, head over to Inrng’s blog post on team jersey fashion that’s a nice companion to this piece.

Making a broad, sweeping generalisation (because who doesn’t love those?), cyclists come in two types. Type I cyclists just love bikes.  They love anything with a bike on, made for bikes, for people going on bikes and are easy to buy for – they’ll be delighted with anything with a bike on.  You don’t need a gift guide for them.  Then there are the others.

Ah, the others.  My Cyclist is, of course, another.  The others get little enjoyment from cycling – cycling is far too important for that.  It’s all about pain.  Pain and money.  Pain and money and carbon bits that weigh less than a paperclip.  The others are of course the Type II cyclists.  And buying for a Type II cyclist can be an absolute nightmare.

Big Presents

Clothing

A straw poll of Twitter cycling types revealed strong desires for swanky threads.  A tip here for anyone attempting to buy cycling clothing as a gift for a cyclist – now is not the time to be using your initiative.  Your cyclist will have a specific wish list detailing the garments they want, which will have been meticulously researched, cross-referenced, and ranked in order of preference.  Web pages will be marked, catalogues and magazines will be left open with a particular garment circled and annotated with such helpful hints as “THIS ONE,” “THIS ONE RIGHT HERE,” ‘I’M A SIZE L,” “IN BLACK PLEASE,” “DON’T BUY ANYTHING ELSE COS I’LL ONLY CHANGE IT FOR THIS AND SULK.”  Seriously, do not go off-piste on this one.  Buying Rapha for an Assos aficionado, or vice versa, could genuinely be a matter of life and death. Like Mods and Rockers. Raphas and Assoses regularly meet up on Brighton Beach on Bank Holidays for massive fights.  Best thing to do is order online while they helpfully watch with eagle eyes over your shoulder, making sure you get it right.

Components and Upgrades

Another extremely popular answer when cyclists were polled about what they wanted for Christmas was bling-y bike bits.  Interestingly, only one person actually wanted a new bike – all the others wanted a flashy or shiny or carbon bits for an existing bike, which almost certainly proves something about something about cyclists.  Odds on, if you are seriously considering buying your cyclist a flashy and expensive bit for their bike, you’ve just handed over your card and tried not to cry while they ordered it for themselves.

Little Presents

The problem with standing there while your control freak cyclist orders their own ‘surprise’ gift, is one Kuku Penthouse / Rapha Softshell / Vulpine Harrington (delete as applicable) does not a Christmas make, and you’re going to have to find plenty of other ‘bits’, because somehow that has become the law of the season.  Temper that with the desperate Mid-December phone call from your/their mother and you have yourself a whole host of adorably thoughtful cycling-related merchandise to purchase.  I have compiled a little list of cycling-related things I (and my tame Type II Cyclist) absolutely love, or stuff we’ve seen that we genuinely think might make an interesting and thoughtful gift, so stop crying and step away from the “Testers Do It With Aero Helmets” T-Shirt, we’re here to help.

Books

I’m generally disinterested in biographies, particularly of sports people – whom I find universally dull – even the interesting ones (Eat, Sleep, Ride, Repeat?), so imagine my surprise when (seriously) one of the best books of the year turned out to be Domestique by Charly Wegelius and Tom Southam.  Thankfully, neither really a sports book nor a biography, this story of one man’s life as a top professional cyclist, and the dream that crumbles to a mundane reality is told with candour, humour, and humility.  Testament to Wegelius’ skill as a raconteur and in no small part to Southam’s as a writer, Domestique reads like a conversation with an old friend over a couple bottles of wine.  If by about four pages in you don’t want to buy them both the multi-coloured suggestively-named drink of their choice, then you’re dead wrong.  And put a sparkler and a plastic monkey in it.

Widely available from Amazon – Google from your location for other buying options.

The Cyclist has just casually dropped into conversation that he would like a copy of Skills, Drills and Bellyaches, the Cyclocross primer – I suspect motivated by the desire to stop me yelling embarrassingly weak “Remount” puns in a cold field just outside of Derby.

Available from the CrosshairsCycling.com shop here.

I have enjoyed the Cycling Anthology series; collections of some of the best cycling writing broken into bite-sized chunks that appeal to my terrible attention span (Look! A shiny thing!)

Available from Prendas, amongst others:

If none of these tickle your fancy (or you’ve got ‘em already), the Independent has some more ideas for cycling books.

See reviews for some of these titles and other books here.

P.S. While we’re on a book tip, the upcoming Road Rash and Ramen Noodles, True Tales of Pro Cycling on $10 a Day by Phil Gaimon looks like another must-read – sadly you’ll have to wait ‘til April though.  Thanks to the Mike Creed’s Open Mic Tuesday podcast for the heads up.

Socks

Some timeless conflicts that resonate through the ages: Good Vs. Evil.  Dark Vs. Light.  Bloods Vs. Crips, Cyclist Vs. Cold Feet.  Necessity being the mother of invention, increasingly innovative weapons in the battle against the elements are constantly being produced, and a cyclist can (genuinely) never have too many socks, if for no other reason than if needs be they can put every single pair on.  Some you might not have seen yet are brought to you by badass Aussies 4SHAW.  All the accessories are bitching, and love that they’re rocking a women’s range, but for me it’s all about the socks.

While we’re on the subject of badass Aussies, I’d cheerfully point you in the direction of Fiasco Ciclismo, but they’re pretty much all sold out currently, so I’m not sure I’d be doing you any favours.  Cool kit though.

Also on the front line on the war between cyclist’s extremities and the elements:

De Feet  (with special honourable mention to the sugar skull style)

Accessories

A new discovery for me is VeloCulture, making cute accessories from recycled bike bits – cufflinks, belts and jewellery.  Loving these brake cable earrings:

Available from:

https://beta.folksy.com/shops/VeloCulture

Layers

AnaNichoola, absolutely stonking stylish kit for women, the complete opposite of the shrink and pink mentality.  Seriously, I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t appreciate a little bit of this in their lives.   Two words (if you can get them).  Star Tights. Star Tights Mother****ers! 

Gadgets

Quick question, if not carbon, then what?  3D printed, that’s what.  Guaranteed to make your Cyclist geek out quicker than a full replay of the 1986 Tour de France, a 3D printed fluoro Garmin mount from RaceWare Direct is pretty damn cool. 

Il Dolore hand-blended massage oils for cyclists

The range consists of Verde – a pre-ride energising oil, and Rosa – a post-ride restorative oil.  Available from Velobici.

In the mid-90’s, the Cyclist raced a few seasons as a junior in Belgium and Northern France.  A couple of times he has mentioned a weapons-grade embrocation called Sixtus, with a particular smell reminiscent of that time, and his desire to get his grubby paws on a bottle.  Over the years I have conducted no fewer than two half-arsed Google searches for the product in question, only to come up empty handed – I suspect it’s been placed on the WADA banned list – but one whiff of Verde, and the Cyclist was back in that Belgian changing room, about to get his skinny and terrified British ass handed to him by several dozen enormous Belgians, who despite their Race Licenses claiming them to be teenagers had to shave twice a day. Their knuckles.

Rouleur Mugs by Richard Mitchelson

Available (with some other fab products) from http://rouleur.cc/shop

I’m a huge fan of these – they made last year’s blog too, and on Christmas day my mum presented me with the Sky 2012 box set with “I can take a hint you know.”  The Cyclist and I have basically spent the last year fighting over who gets the Cav one (I do).  This is the year of the Classics, leaving plenty of opportunity for double-entendre based hilarity* as you slink off to the kitchen to put something hot ‘n wet in the cyclist of your choice!

(*could wear thin pretty quickly)

Cycling Souvenirs Mugs

It’s not just cycling that unites cyclists.  The vast majority are also completely obsessed with coffee and cake.  These are a beautiful collection of mugs, uniting the twin passions of coffee and iconic cycling images.  A wider range of cycling gifts is available, and Cycling Souvenirs is currently offering free delivery to the UK and Europe, with worldwide shipping.

Hope this curated list helps you solve a few vexing holiday shopping dilemmas, and maybe you’ll spy something for yourself as well!

All the world’s a stage race,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one rider in their time plays many parts,

Their acts being seven ages. At first, the Junior,

Their mind fixed constant solely the win.

And then the Under-23, with his biting ambition

And shining morning face, tactically more astute

But jealous wi’it. And then the Stagiaire,

Contract hunter he, with a hopeful ballad

Made to his teammates service. Then a sprinter,

Full of cursed oaths and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the Domestique,

Well rounded with experience and life,

With eyes knowing and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper’d Director Sportive,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,

His youthful bibs, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is Team Management and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

All’s Well That End’s Well (Tower Hamlet)

The scene of the race.  All riders on stage. BRIAN and HUGH commentating.

BRIAN. Now early on, some six did break away,

Engaged in an unfriendly game of chess

On wheels, to mop up the last of the sprint

Seconds on offer, and take a final chance

To maximise position on GC,

And secure the Yodel Points Jersey.

HUGH. Sprint the first did textbook proceed,

Bauer took first, and seconds he did need,

Leapfrogs the rider ahead on GC,

And claims top 5 for Garmin and JV.

BRIAN. The second sprint did see some tempers fray,

A hand was raised, a rider pushed away?

The Commisaires stepped in to relegate

Williams, no Points Jersey will he replicate.

WILLIAMS. The rider did protest too much, methinks!

HUGH. And on the third, Madrazo lost his legs,

Exhaustion of his effort this last week,

His enemy becomes, and in his place,

He sends brave Dowsett, to sweep up the points.

DOWSETT. Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t

BRIAN. And Dowsett makes a gap, and carries on

Hopeful some that they might leave him be,

And chase him not – slight chance!

HUGH. The sprinters have smelled blood, and braying they

Drive forward their trains, take up familiar lines

And none can match the raw power coming from

Omega Pharma Quickstep.

CAV. To win, or not to win, that is the question…

BRIAN. A sprinters day is this, and drive they forward,

Yet all the while Team Sky maintain a vigil,

To keep safe the gold Jersey on Wiggo’s back.

HUGH. And watch Pettachi deliver Cavendish!

Positioned perfect, powering to the line,

And Yates upsets the other practised sprinters

Stealing second from Viviani’s grasp.

BRIAN. Wiggo does roll across the line unscathed

The gold is won, and Cavendish has ten!

British victorious upon the final stage,

Cry God for Wiggo, Cavendish and Saint George!

King Cav

Daytime, NED is interviewing CAV post race.

NED. Good win this day!

CAV. Yes, pleased were we the team could garner victory.

Delivered bold was I by Pettachi’s grace

I ride those last miles blind, dependent on

The correct positioning of the others of my team

As all the sprinters do. The final run

Defined by stripes of colour forming on the peloton

As lead out trains develop, ebb and flow.

NED. A little early did you start your move.

CAV. A little earlier than ideal went I,

And Viviani had me fight on every stroke.

NED. Didst thou cut off Viviani’s line?

CAV. Necessity’s sharp pinch!

I am a man more sinned against than sinning.

Misunderstood by many, branded ill.

NED. Nothing will come of nothing.

CAV. Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Though many make to try; know they not my heart

The weight of responsibility to team

I feelest strongly – owing them my all.

Deserved they the win.

Given good advice upon a time was I;

Have more than thou showest, speak less than thou knowest, lend less than thou owest

Hold back a little in speech, and give all on the road,

Let action be your words.

NED. Meantime, shall you express a darker purpose?

CAV. Come not between the dragon and his wrath!

The flame for winning burns still bright within,

Much has been made of new faces in the sprint –

My time is not yet done.

NED. What makest thou of races such as this?

CAV. So nice is it to race upon home roads,

The crowds ecstatic in their fine support.

Unbeaten I remain on Guildford’s straight.

It is in the stars, the stars above us, govern our conditions

NED. And of the upcoming UCI election? What thinkest thou?

CAV. Pat  – he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy;

The cue is villanous melancholy,

With a sigh like Tom o’ Bedlam.

Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.

NED. What will come next for Cav? New season goals

A change of direction does your training take?

CAV. This season shall I finish first before

I concern myself with that which may or not

Unfold without the next.

Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and in woman out-paramoured the Belgian!

NED. Thou truly are every inch a king.

The wheel is come full circle. Is this the promised end?

CAV. Nay, not yet the end for King Cav.

NED. I thank thee for thy time this day,

And wish you well upon your way.

Exuent Omnes

As You Like It.

HUGH and BRIAN are commentating.

HUGH. Easy settles today into the race.

A familiar pattern, five doth break away,

Madrazo in their midst.

BRIAN. Again behind do Sky hover ‘pon the front,

Vigilant sextet; twelve eyes in all directions,

Twelve legs in only one.

HUGH. Good Madrazo sternly drives the break

His elbow flapping wildly for a turn

“Come through! Come through!”

As he his own ambitions chases well,

The Mountains crown is settled on his head

To his emotive joy.

BRIAN. The Italian team Bardiani spy a chance

To garner a stage victory, and thus

Do choose to take a turn to make the pace.

The black of Sky now interspersed with green

Keeps tempo high on undulating roads.

HUGH. The breakaway is caught upon the start

Of the first ever summit finish of the race.

The breath of the peloton upon them

As the gradient doth lift.

BRIAN. Pirazzi is the first to try his hand

And distances the group for minutes few,

Quintana takes up his familiar position

Shoulder to shoulder with Martin.

HUGH. Martin doth take a look within his travelling chest of pluck,

And finds it full. Digs deep, and pulls away,

But not for long.  He rests, and tries again.

BRIAN. And so, attack to attack they ripe and ripe,

And then as energy fades, they rot and rot:

And thereby hangs the tale.

Ramping up the hill, slowly doth the group contract

Til there leaves only a select nine.

HUGH. Wiggo in gold takes up the pace himself

To set up teammate Lopez for the win.

BRIAN. But swift! The young figure of Yates

Powers past his elders on the finish straight

Displaying his intention fair and true

And none can meet his challenge!

HUGH. Fortune reigns in gifts of the world.

But this boy has arrived, and with his own,

Tactically sound, and devastating strong –

Boy, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
more than your enemies.

BRIAN. Well said: that was laid on with a trowel

HUGH. His heart’s desires be with him. This is no flattery.

BRIAN. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.

HUGH. A second day, a second chance for youth

To make the stage their own, and own the stage.

The next generation rides alongside titans,

And shows no fear.

BRIAN. Young cyclists show their mettle good and true

To make their heroes colleagues they pursue.

A Mid-Wales Night’s Dream

HAYMAN, STANNARD, WIGGO, ELMIGER, MARTIN, QUINTANA, BENNETT and others.

HAYMAN. All day have we spent riding at the front

Black riders six, though one doth wear the gold.

Committed to attack as a defence –

My soul is on the road.

STANNARD. Quintana does escape upon the climb,

Another takes he with him.

The peloton reduces with the pace.

[Exeunt Hayman]

A spectator runs in underpants and mask!

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

QUINTANA. Up and down, up and down

I will lead them up and down

Til I am feared in field in town

Quintana, lead them up and down.

ELMIGER. That man could put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes!

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,

Brief as the lightning in the collied night.

STANNARD. Their confidence encouraged by Quintana’s hustle,

More attacks from them as left do follow.

WIGGO. The course of true race never did run smooth.

STANNARD. And now goes Martin off the front again,

A duo of attackers for a dual ascent.

Quintana and Martin, Martin and Quintana,

The two of them do break away as one!

Accustomed now are we to see them twins!

WIGGO.Fear not brave friends, faith have I in our legs,

I’ll trust the tempo that we set ourselves

And pace our efforts according to our will.

STANNARD. The pace doth yet unfasten many from the bunch

And yet young Bennett keepest still without.

Though he be but young, he is fierce!

His struggle to maintain contact on the climb,

Repayed as he recovers on the flat.

He sees his mark, and faultless times his sprint!

Take pains. Be perfect.

WIGGO. The young man well deserves his win this day,

And for our part, successful in our aims.

Another day, retaining us the lead

A display of teamwork of which we can be proud.

BENNETT (aside)

The riders such as I are on the edge;

As much is this shop window as a race –

And solemnly it was I made this pledge;

Give all I can, a WorldTour team to place.

For all the while, deep within my breast

The faintest spark of fiercest hope resides,

That one might seek me out from all the rest,

And whispering, their faith in me confide.

An opportunity this is for me

To become more than a footnote in this sport –

Instead a tale my own that they might see

My strength and skill be that which they report.

And so, anon, success may bring success

In longer term, careers to progress.

The Merchant of Llanberis

Daytime. Sporadic rain. HUGH and BRIAN are commentating.

HUGH. Eleven in a group have got away

Look they to reach Llanberis at the fore.

Madrazo speeds as though he were a Porsche

The crown of King of Mountains he pursues,

And rides ahead like he would seek to gain

A pound of flesh from anyone who dare

To challenge him!

BRIAN. The riders of Team Sky in black do mass

Upon the front, as if they block the light.

A shadow casting forward upon the road.

HUGH. Hath not a rider from Team Sky eyes?

Hath not a team ambition, pride and spirit?

If you prick them, do they not bleed?

If you tickle them, do they not laugh?

If you poison them, do they not die?

If you wrong them, shall they not revenge?

And if you break away from them, shall they not chase?

Sky will never easy give the gold from Wiggo’s back.

BRIAN. The other teams do gladly let them work.

But harken thou! Doth Martin spring a shock!

HUGH. The quality of Martin is not strained,

But down on drops gets he,

And dances ‘pon the pedals,

His power masked behind a fluid gait.

Action is his eloquence.

BRIAN. And with him flees the sprightly Quintana!

Alert to the movement, poised to surge.

Good Wiggo senses danger, springs to action,

Returning both men back from whence they came.

HUGH. And now attacks Bauer! Surely can this be

A stage where every man must play a part.

The group ahead a slight advantage keeps,

A flurry of attacks from off the front.

Heroic efforts one and all.

BRIAN. Conditions good, fair terms and villains minds

Conspire to stir up the bunch behind.

Eleven men, caught just within the sight

Of the flamme rouge, as peloton takes flight.

And finally, their hopes are swept away

Exhaustion be their only prize this day.

HUGH. Omega Pharma – Quickstep now make pace

And string the riders out along the road.

Petacchi will not twice let Cav be boxed,

And ere the erstwhile sprinter doth reward

The efforts of his teammate with a win!

BRIAN. The classification overall remains,

Wiggo and Sky retain the lead they’ve earned.

But in this race, now truth be told,

Not all who glister in it can wear gold.

The Taming of the ITT

Scene 1

Outside, more rain. EDMONDSON, LOPEZ and EISEL.

EISEL. Ten things do I hate about you, ten mile test!

EDMONDSON Oh yes? I’ll fair wager thou cannot count as high as ten!

EISEL Come, come, you wasp; your wit’s too sharp for me!

Enter Stannard

Good Stannard! Hither, tell us of your ride!

An excellent illustration of your strength.

STANNARD. [Bows] I thank thee for thy grace fine gentlemen!

But knowest well I merely warm the seat

For our erstwhile Wiggo!

LOPEZ. What make you of the young men Yates and Bennett?

STANNARD. Tush! Tush! Fear boys with bugs!

Enter Hayman

What Hayman! Caughtst thou were this day by Dowsett!

HAYMAN No shame in that! Good Dowsett races well

And demonstrates his skill in 10 mile tests.

Come fellows, let me press upon you some advice

Strict measure your effort sole against yourself;

And do as adversaries do in law,

Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

Now watch, the final stretch of road erupts

As man by man they grimacing arrive,

Bare seconds separated, yet each resides

Silent, within his own set world of pain.

LOPEZ. A curse upon this weather! Watch as we

Line up to test ourselves against the clock

And take a frozen turn around this park

For entertainment’s sake. Barbaric sport!

Feed us to these lions and have done!

EDMONSON. If only the competition were to rail bitterly

‘Gainst nature for all of half an hour!

Marry, what news of Wiggo?

HAYMAN. Still out upon the course. The bit clamped tight

Between his teeth. Mark this, he’ll win this day

Or die wi’ the effort of his travails!

STANNARD. If not to Wiggo, I’ll not budge an inch.

EDMONDSON And what of Ciolek, the last man upon the track?

HAYMAN. Good Ciolek knows well his strengths.

Like myself to Dowsett, no shame be there for him

To lose to Wiggo in manner such as this.

LOPEZ. The confirmations in!

Wiggo does drop below the twenty minute mark,

The only one to do so.

STANNARD. A win for Wiggo! Return to glorious form,

A gold jersey does he don in honour of his prize.

The day is done, a change in order have we seen.

So onwards now to Stoke, perchance to dream.

The Tempest.

Scene 1

Daytime. More rain. HUGH and BRIAN are commentating on the action unfolding.

HUGH. There be some sports are pain, yet their undertaking

Delight in them sets off; and here see we

This illustrated so this very day.

BRIAN. What’s past is prologue; now matters just today,

And yet, alas, the storm has come again

The wind doth howl a curse across the land,

And, from the sky, the unrelenting rain

Upon the road doest leave a film of grease

Unwary rider to unseat its aim;

Descents are very treachery itself.

A septet ridest clear, the sprints to claim,

And revel for a while in their lead

Upon home roads, ambition to be freed.

HUGH. Two Gentlemen on Honister Pass set off,

Fair climbers both, to catch the seven in front.

Martin and Quintana, upon the rain-slicked roads

Of Cumbria, put frozen limbs to the test

As streams of icy water hasten past,

And lift the pace upon the brutal ramps,

Legs scream; all the while the peloton groans

“Hell is empty, and all the devils here!”

BRIAN. Garmin and Movistar hither work together?

Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows!

HUGH. Indeed, yet soon enough all men are caught

And brought back to the fold, their efforts spent,

The group doth snake across the drenched roads.

But Lo! The Thane of Cavendish doest early stir!

To raise the flag of his attack some 10k out!

Good Lofkvist, sensing that the other riders have,

Their attentions turned to the charge of Cav,

Makes good the opportunity there given –

And slides his wheel away to force a gap.

The team of Sky, remorseless in their chase

Set upon the attacking man the beast of Stannard!

BRIAN. Brave Lofkvist, determined to avoid the snare

Doth bow his head and grimace with the pain

But slowly does the bunch reduce his breach,

Concealed in the drumming of the rain.

HUGH. A dual effort from An Post ranks

Does condemn heroic Lofkvist to a loss,

Caught cruelly within metres of the line!

BRIAN. Yet despite the greatest efforts of Bennett,

An Post will not have victory this day,

The mighty Ciolek will not be denied

A second time, and enters he the fray.

On the line MTN Qhubeka steal the Gold

And so our Tempestuous stage 2 tale is told.