Thursday, December 21, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
Moving Up!
This is the 275th and last post at this site... we are moving to a fancy new location, with room for everyone to come along! In fact, think of Digital Peloton as merely the beginning. Don't ask me why, but hopefully in a month or two the answer will suggest itself. Anyway, with the name changed as well, we are now at:
The Podium Cafe [www.podiumcafe.com]
This is the 275th and last post at this site... we are moving to a fancy new location, with room for everyone to come along! In fact, think of Digital Peloton as merely the beginning. Don't ask me why, but hopefully in a month or two the answer will suggest itself. Anyway, with the name changed as well, we are now at:
The Podium Cafe [www.podiumcafe.com]
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Torpedo Tom for Liege?
Boonen tells Cyclingnews.com today that he wants to win Milan-San Remo, Flanders, and Liege this season. There's no doubt he could win la Primavera, if Cipo can get up the Poggio, so can Boonen. Flanders -- the real question is whether there's a realistic chance of him losing. But... Liege? This is probably my favorite of all the Classics, for its constant grinding climbs. I'm sure he can get over them, but if he does, he will be surrounded by some smaller riders, including a few who can sprint. The question is not whether he can manage the climbs; it's whether he can surmount them and have fresh enough legs for a sprint. I wouldn't put it past him, but he will be far from a favorite that day.
Boonen tells Cyclingnews.com today that he wants to win Milan-San Remo, Flanders, and Liege this season. There's no doubt he could win la Primavera, if Cipo can get up the Poggio, so can Boonen. Flanders -- the real question is whether there's a realistic chance of him losing. But... Liege? This is probably my favorite of all the Classics, for its constant grinding climbs. I'm sure he can get over them, but if he does, he will be surrounded by some smaller riders, including a few who can sprint. The question is not whether he can manage the climbs; it's whether he can surmount them and have fresh enough legs for a sprint. I wouldn't put it past him, but he will be far from a favorite that day.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Stage of the Year
We started a chat a while back about the best single day of 2005, and there was murmured assent to my choice of the penultimate stage of the Giro, over the Finestere to Sestriere. Well, much as I would love to take credit for this choice, apparently it wasn't hard to pick. Cycle Sport Mag, further distancing itself from Velo News like Richard Virenque jumping away from an indifferent pack in search of KOM points, has a several-part profile of the day's intrigue. It starts with a profile of the Falcon, finishing with his thoughts about the stage and lauding him for his patience and smarts. Then the mag gets into the more cloak-and-dagger stuff, pinning down Sean Yates and Allan Peiper on their friendship and what it might have meant toward having a pair of Davitamon riders towing the race leader across the final flats and ascent. In the process Yates calls DiLuca a "dickhead," while Peiper queries as to what Il Killer's role was in towing Simoni into the Maglia Rosa virtuale. Why exactly was his DS screaming at him to stop riding, and did he really have a cramp?
Anyway, I had previously singled out this stage as a testament to Savoldelli's brilliant, steely strategy. Apparently this was also the most entertaining day of the year as well.
We started a chat a while back about the best single day of 2005, and there was murmured assent to my choice of the penultimate stage of the Giro, over the Finestere to Sestriere. Well, much as I would love to take credit for this choice, apparently it wasn't hard to pick. Cycle Sport Mag, further distancing itself from Velo News like Richard Virenque jumping away from an indifferent pack in search of KOM points, has a several-part profile of the day's intrigue. It starts with a profile of the Falcon, finishing with his thoughts about the stage and lauding him for his patience and smarts. Then the mag gets into the more cloak-and-dagger stuff, pinning down Sean Yates and Allan Peiper on their friendship and what it might have meant toward having a pair of Davitamon riders towing the race leader across the final flats and ascent. In the process Yates calls DiLuca a "dickhead," while Peiper queries as to what Il Killer's role was in towing Simoni into the Maglia Rosa virtuale. Why exactly was his DS screaming at him to stop riding, and did he really have a cramp?
Anyway, I had previously singled out this stage as a testament to Savoldelli's brilliant, steely strategy. Apparently this was also the most entertaining day of the year as well.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Kelly & Roche
Nice little take on the two giants of Irish Cycling in the Kimmage book. Kelly and Roche always seemed like good guys, in completely opposite ways. And Kimmage, a guy who doesn't generally get along with others, and a mucker on the front lines in the mid-80s, has plenty of compliments for both. Apparently there was a lot of expected tension when Roche won the Tour... after all Kelly had done and won, Roche was leapfrogging right over him in Irish lore with one Tour victory. But Roche was having none of it; he was careful to point out that, between the two of them, they had won every meaningful race in Europe... in other words, it's a two-man show. Roche was always outgoing and friendly -- with reporters and other riders, and even sought out Kimmage the night he won the Tour to console his countryman who had dropped out a few days earlier to encourage him. Kelly was less openly friendly, a more private, seemingly aloof guy, but one of those people whom riders loved once they got to know him.
Interestingly, Kimmage is grateful for the fact that neither helped him make his way to Europe. He was pissed at the time that he had to scratch and claw to get established, but later, once he understood the solitary and painful nature of making it as an outsider, he felt glad that nobody made things easy for him. Kelly or Roche, with one phone call, could have done him this privilege, but you didn't make it in cycling those days on privilege. Kimmage's take is that Kelly and Roche knew how hard you have to be to make it, and figured that Kimmage would be better off breaking down the door on his own.
Ancient history, I suppose, but these are two of the great characters of modern cycling.
Nice little take on the two giants of Irish Cycling in the Kimmage book. Kelly and Roche always seemed like good guys, in completely opposite ways. And Kimmage, a guy who doesn't generally get along with others, and a mucker on the front lines in the mid-80s, has plenty of compliments for both. Apparently there was a lot of expected tension when Roche won the Tour... after all Kelly had done and won, Roche was leapfrogging right over him in Irish lore with one Tour victory. But Roche was having none of it; he was careful to point out that, between the two of them, they had won every meaningful race in Europe... in other words, it's a two-man show. Roche was always outgoing and friendly -- with reporters and other riders, and even sought out Kimmage the night he won the Tour to console his countryman who had dropped out a few days earlier to encourage him. Kelly was less openly friendly, a more private, seemingly aloof guy, but one of those people whom riders loved once they got to know him.
Interestingly, Kimmage is grateful for the fact that neither helped him make his way to Europe. He was pissed at the time that he had to scratch and claw to get established, but later, once he understood the solitary and painful nature of making it as an outsider, he felt glad that nobody made things easy for him. Kelly or Roche, with one phone call, could have done him this privilege, but you didn't make it in cycling those days on privilege. Kimmage's take is that Kelly and Roche knew how hard you have to be to make it, and figured that Kimmage would be better off breaking down the door on his own.
Ancient history, I suppose, but these are two of the great characters of modern cycling.
