A Socially-Distanced Peloton?

For many Americans, the beginning of the baseball season, however belated and truncated, was a sign that things were "returning to normal."

(What does "normal" mean anymore?  What did it ever mean?)

Well, less than a week into the new season, something that the league commissioner, team owners and others who had a vested interest did not anticipate--or simply ignored the possibility of--happened.   It seems that they if they foresaw anything, they envisioned one or two players on a time getting infected, and isolated.  

Instead, 17 members of the Miami Marlins tested positive for the virus.  As a result, at least the next four games on the Marlins' schedule have been postponed.  Given that the schedule is already belated, truncated and compressed, no one really knows how or whether those games will be made up.  Moreover, other games have to be postponed or rescheduled because the Marlins were playing in Philadelphia, and the next team that comes to town will either have to reschedule or find a way not to use the visiting team's clubhouse.

More important, though, are the family members, friends, girlfriends, flight attendants, restaurant or bar workers or others those infected players may have contacted--not to mention members of opposing teams.

I mention the Marlins because their situation got me to wondering about other sports, including bicycle racing.  Baseball is not a "contact" sport; players typically come within six feet of each other only when they run or slide into a base.  On the other hand, in basketball players. for example,  are normally within inches of each other, and are wearing very little.

What I said about basketball players also applies to bicycle racers in the peloton.  In major races, a hundred or more riders are pedaling--and breathing hard--in an area about the size of an eat-in kitchen in a New York apartment. 

I thought about all of this when I learned that the Vuelta a Burgos was running.  It's the first international race held since coronavirus shutdowns began in March. Race organizers tout the precautions they are taking and, to date, no rider has tested positive.  Still, one has to wonder whether the race will end without anyone coming down with the virus.




The same question could be asked about the Tour de France.  It would normally end about now, but has been rescheduled for 29 August to 20 September.  Tour organizers have devised two different sets of protocols.  Still, one has to wonder whether either would be sufficient, especially there seem to be new outbreaks in parts of Europe as well as the US.

A socially-distanced peloton?  Perhaps a race could be run that way.  But would it lose something, like a basketball game in which defenders can't stand between a the basket and an opponent dribbling the ball.

Would Renewable Energy Sustain This?

Yesterday I advanced the crazy idea that Samuel Beckett may have been a sustainable transportation advocate.

If he were, he probably would have favored renewable energy.

So, would he have approved of this?

It looks like something someone would have created during the days of the "penny farthing" (high-wheeled bicycle) were folks thinking about "renewable energy" or "sustainable transportation."

Was He A Sustainable Transportation Advocate?

What if Socrates were the protagonist of The Odyssey? 

Well, for one thing, it wouldn't be called The Odyssey because its central character is Odysseus.  So what would The Socratessy (or whatever it would be called) be like?

And what if, in such a story, Socrates had a bicycle?

I have to admit that I never pondered such a scenario.  Perhaps it means that I'm not as creative or deep a thinker as I've fancied myself to be.   Or it may simply mean that I'm not Samuel Beckett.  

Although I've read his poetry and most of his drama (of which I've seen performances), I am guilty of ignoring his fiction. Why? I don't know.  But after coming across an article by transportation policy analyst Gideon Forman, I plan to read Molloy.

Like his best-known works, Waiting for Godot (En attendant Godot) and Endgame (Fin de partie),  Beckett wrote Molloy in French.  (He was born and raised in Ireland but spent most of his adult life in France.)  The title character is, like Socrates, a kind of brilliant philosopher who is homeless. He is on a quest to reunite with his elderly mother; Odysseus is trying to get home to his wife.  And, in another sort-of-parallel to the ancient Greek tale, Molloy is not certain that he will arrive--or that he is even on his way to his destination.

Molloy, who has leg problems, nonetheless undertakes his journey on a bicycle.  "Crippled though I was, I was no mean cyclist," he says.  As Forman points out, however, the bicycle signals poverty:  Molloy can't afford bus or train fare, much less an automobile.  

But, as Forman points out, Beckett--whether or not it was his intention--shows what a democratizing force the bicycle is:  Even in his poverty, with his handicaps, Molloy still can ride it.  

Perhaps most interestingly of all, the bicycle becomes a sort of companion like the eponymous donkey of Juan Ramon Jiminez's Platero y yo  (Platero and I). "Thus we cleared these difficult straits, my bicycle and I, together," Molloy says of his mount.  I imagine that Molloy--and perhaps Beckett himself--would understand the grief I feel over crashing Arielle, my Mercian Audax, or the bikes I've lost to theft.

Could it be that Monsieur Beckett embedded advocacy for cycling (and other sustainable transportation) in a story about uncertainty?