Lance's Offenses: Neither The First Nor The Last

Tonight I saw the 60 Minutes segment on Lance Armstrong.  I don't think I learned anything new from it.  Then again, I didn't expect to.

I'm not going to debate about the genuineness of Lance's confession or whether he doped in the last two Tours he wrote.  It's all getting tiresome, really.  Call me a cynic, but I don't think anyone--the investigators, Lance's teammates or Lance himself--is telling everything he knows.  And anytime Lance or anyone else is accused of doping, someone will say, "Well, everybody was doing it."  Be that as it may, the affair is a mess.

All right, I'll say one more thing before I get to what prompted me to write this post.  Lance and certain other people, of course, have an interest in his being cleared of the accusations and lifting the ban on his competing.  On the other hand, if Lance was indeed doping and did, in fact, make his teammates take the same drugs he was taking and threatened anyone who wouldn't, or who spoke of it, then there were also people who had a vested interest in denying it, or simply looking the other way.  Yes, I'm talking about UCI officials, among other people.  They were probably looking at Lance as a ticket to the American market.

Anyway, what I now find far more interesting than the question of whether Lance doped or not is the degree to which he controlled the Tour, and much of the racing scene.  One rider--Tyler Hamilton, I believe--said, in essence, that what Lance wanted, Lance got.  He was well-connected and, according to some riders, if you didn't go along with him, you could be essentially run out of the sport.

It got me to thinking about the ways in which a few athletes manage to control a competition, and not only with their athletic domination.  It's long been suspected in cycling and other sports that a few top-flight competitors conspire with each other to control the outcome of contests.  

It's not hard to imagine in a sport that's as individualistic as cycling.  In stage races like the Tour, teams compete, to be sure, but most people watch the races to see the performance of individual riders.  (Probably the only team sport about which the same thing could be said is basketball:  There were a lot more fans of Michael Jordan than the Chicago Bulls, for example.)  Track events and time trials usually pit individual riders against each other, so it's easy to think that there are conspiracies.  

Velodrome d'Hiver

In fact, collusion was very commonly attributed to the races at the old Velodrome d'Hiver in Paris.  Of them, journalist Pierre Chaney wrote:

There was a lot of talk about the relative honesty of the results, and journalists sometimes asked themselves what importance they ought to place on victories in these six-day races. The best of the field combined between themselves, it was known, to fight against other teams and to get their own hands on the biggest prizes, which they then shared between them. This coalition, cruelly nicknamed the Blue Train [after a luxury rail service patronised by the rich] imposed its rule and sometimes even the times of the race, the length of the rest periods. The little teams fought back on certain days but, generally, the law belonged to the cracks, better equipped physically and often better organised.

Chaney was writing about races during the 1920's. One could be forgiven for thinking that there is indeed "nothing new under the sun" and that whatever Lance's offenses were, they were neither the first nor the last, neither the beginning nor the end.

From Brazil To Florida: Fragmentos do Cotidiano

Today I'm going to plug another blog I enjoy:  Fragmentos do Cotidiano.  It's a cyclists' blog, but it's also interesting for the photographs and stories of daily life in Brazil.  It's in Portuguese, which I can more or less understand because I can read Spanish and French.  But even if you can't do that, the photos are worth looking at.

Here's one that reminded me of cycling in Florida:

From Fragmentos do Cotidiano

I couldn't get over how much the layout of that bike lane, and that intersection, reminds me of the ones nearest my parents' house.  The trees and sky also look like what I often see when I'm in the Sunshine State.

And the light is very much like what I'd see on a partly cloudy-to-overcast day when I rode down Palm Coast Parkway to the bridge for US A-1A.  Some things are universal, I guess.

More Of A '70's Craze

Having come of age in the '70's, I can tell you that a lot of things about that time were goofy.  At least, they seem that way now.  I'm talking about the hair styles, clothing, EST and, of course, disco.

Then there was drillium.  Every component manufacturer voided their warranties if owners cut or drilled cranks, chainrings, derailleurs, brakes and other components.  In fact, Campagnolo and a few other manufacturers offered components that were already drilled or slotted.  Ironically, Campagnolo's slotted brake levers actually weighed more than their smooth ones!  According to Campagnolo, the levers were made thicker so they could withstand the slotting.

Now, I've never seen a Specialites TA three-pin crankset in drillium--until just a little while ago, when I was looking at the e-bay listings. (I have an excuse:  I was selling a couple of items.)  

I actually like it.  In some weird way, it looks Art Deco-ish.  I was tempted to buy it. But, I can't really justify buying anything I don't plan to use soon, and I'm not doing any showroom-worthy vintage restorations.  Plus, I don't know whether Specialites TA still makes replacement chainrings.  As far as I know, no other chainrings are compatible with this crank.

Still, it is nice: probably the best three-pin crankset ever made. The drillium accentuates its lines, and makes a pretty crankset even prettier, in my opinion.

Our Winter Is Their Sunrise

As I've mentioned in my previous two posts, we in New York are having the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Everybody's talking about it:  I think we were spoiled by such a mild season last year.

Still, we're getting off pretty easy compared to people in other parts of the world.  Either of the past two days would have been utterly balmy in, say, Duluth, Minnesota.  On an average January day, the high temperature there is 18F(-8C)--about what it was yesterday.  Today it was about five degrees (F) warmer.  And our night temperatures have been nowhere near as cold as the  -1F (-18C) folks in Duluth experience on a typical January night.

Aside from the mild winter we had last year, the cold is affecting people in the Big Apple for another reason:  wind.  The wind has, at times, gusted to nearly 30MPH (50KPH), and has steadily blown at 10-12MPH (16-21KPH).  That, of course, gives the cold a "bite" it wouldn't otherwise have.

However, there is one area in which, barring dramatic climate changes, New York winters will never compare with those in Duluth:  snow.  We should be thankful for small things:  The cold and wind here have been dry, and the skies almost preternaturally clear.  (Somehow, skies seem--to me, anyway-- clearer when it's cold.)  The city by Lake Superior, in contrast, is almost always covered with snow at this time of year, mainly because when snow falls, it tends to stay for longer than it does here in the New York islands.

So, I have to give major "props" to any year-round bike commuter in Duluth--like Doug, the author of MnBicycleCommuter.  When the roads are covered with snow, he rides a Surly Pugsley with the widest tires he can fit. 

Now, if I had to ride in the kind of cold Doug regularly experiences, I wouldn't mind a view like that.  I've pedalled into the sunrise:  It put me in a good mood for work.

Doug definitely deserves such views. So does anyone else who rides in those conditions!

Les Alpes Maritimes Sur Flushing Bay

Last night the temperature dropped below 10F for the first time in two years.  When I left my place, it was 12F, and the wind-chill was below zero.

So I did took the most sensible route for today's commute:  the one that takes me along the water.

For a moment, I actually envisioned myself among the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.  I rode up mountains (Avoriaz, Galibier and Colle d'Agnello/Col d'Agnell) whose roads were banked by snow--and whose peaks were covered them--when the weather was warm enough to ride comfortably in shorts and a cycling jersey. 

Today's weather, of course, was nothing like that.  However, I didn't have to do any climbing.  Along the Cote d'Azur and in Liguria, the mountains tumble all the way to the sea.  People who've spent their entire lives in this part of the world probably cannot imagine such a coastline.

This is probably the closest they'll come to seeing anything like it: