Races Proliferate, LeBron James Buys Cannondale.

Man, I forgot how busy things got in this here “regular season”; we’ve got some race in Spain, another in Italy, and a third in France, and I don’t care about any of them! (though Pavel Brutt breaking away, in the rain, to take second, then the GC lead, over the course of a split-stage, two days removed from a 260K solo in Milan-friggin’-Sanremo is pretty impressive).

Anyway, even the races that matter have strange, unpronounceable names (“Dee Bray-bant-see Pigil?”). No wonder so many journos are just like “Eff it. Let’s Go with the dope story.” I mean, “OMG drugs!” has become such a familiar go-to that the secular press’ analytical fringe is saying doping isn’t even bad for you anymore. Though I must say, the responses of “non-denial denial” and the “nobody does it anymore” are both welcome changes from the bald-faced lie.

So if tossing off dope stories seems like your bag, looks like there’s another opening out in Boulder (“Knowledge of competitive cycling a plus”). If not, I’m sure you could start your own blog, skip massive chunks of the season (pot calling the kettle, I know), then call yourself “all inclusive” because you linked to Team Bike Hugger. Of course, there are other ways to embrace non-racing aspects of cycling, and they need not involve patting yourself on the back. Or involve millions of dollars, a formerly bankrupt company, and complete and utter surreality.

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