There are advantages to a good Wednesday Morning Worlds beyond fitness, socializing, and improved handling skills:

Note also that I took these with an iPhone—not even the 3gS. Just imagine what it looked like in real life.

What the hell kind of sales pitch is this? Mr. “it is impossible to win without doping” Bernhard Kohl is now opening a massive bike shop? How are you gonna sell all that gram-saving, wind-cheating schlock to armies of overpaid Masters racers when you’re on record as a member of the Better Living Through Chemistry camp?

Kohl had just better hope that no enterprising competitors—an ex-con, ex-manager, for example—decide to open “rejuvenation clinics” in the neighborhood.

I believe you mean “PEZcyclingnews.com”.

You also seem to have omitted Cyclocosm.com, the obvious pinnacle of online cycling commentary.

If there’s one thing keeping American sports journalists employed, it’s the notion of curses. A curse, The Curse, Billygoats, magazines, video games—whatever. It sometimes seems that anything that has nothing to do with on-field performance sells copy.

Apparently—possibly due to social support systems that don’t require pandering to the readers’ basest instincts to boil the pot—European sportswriters do not suffer this affliction. My evidence: this limited edition Alberto Contador cover of Procycling Manager has attracted no attention.

As Jens Voight’s crash reminded us this summer, there’s no end to the danger lurking in the high mountains of the Tour. But the woman in this image—taken from the excellent, free-to-use collection of the Nationaal Archief—has special reason to be concerned.

Wim Van Est was the first Dutchman to don the yellow jersey in 1951, winning the 12th stage to Dax from a break that finished well clear of the field. He was still in yellow the next day when he flatted (or misjudged a bend) and went flying off the Col d’Abisque and down 200 feet into a nearby ravine.

Then, man—has Speedplay got the pair of pedals for you.

In a claim worthy of Chesterfield Cigarettes, Speedplay has asserted that wind tunnel testing has proved its pedals will save you an astounding 33 seconds per hour if you use the four bolt attachment.

There are, of course, the obvious problems with this wind-tunnel derived claim—you don’t ride hour-long time trials; even if you did, you couldn’t ride them a consistent 30mph; even you could, they have hills and corners, and you’re overweight and a lousy bike handler. Then there are cross-winds, other competitors, traffic, mental toughness, etc.

There’s never been a shortage of #cxdrama surrounding the domestic cyclocross scene. All that standing around before and after a 45-minute long race inevitably leads to gossipy cyclists taking swipes at each other. Having the Internet around sure doesn’t help—Sandy Baggins, the ebay auction, the Johnson/Page incident, etc.

But ironically enough, it took a man whose webpage info reads “FYI, THIS SITE READS BEST IN INTERNET EXPLORER. THE FONT ON THE SITE IS SET TO ARIEL [sic] AND IN “NORMAL” SIZE” to really take online #cxdrama to the next level. For better or worse, the emails have been taken down, but the story—unfolding as it does in classic film noir fashion—can never be suppressed:

This is an intervention, Cadel. You have a victim complex, and you need to stop sabotaging yourself. It’s not that surprising—competitive cycling is largely an exercise in masochism—and the best riders tend to be the ones who’ve learned how to wield self-administered agony with the most unmitigated glee.

But Cadel—oh, Cadel. I’m hoping you know something I don’t. Look at the names BMC has signed so far—Alessandro Ballan, Karsten Kroon, George Hincapie, Marcus Burghardt—these aren’t people who are going to get you over the Tourmalet. Sure, Hincapie should be on everyone’s TdF shortlist—especially with this year’s cobbles—but what good is getting through the first week within sight of the lead going to do you when your squad goes to shambles on the first Cat 2 climb?