In all seriousness, though, this is a Tour that has never wanted for drama or surprises—almost a shame, considering the fireworks we were treated to just over a month ago—and perhaps the best part of the excitement surrounding this year’s event is that so much of it is actually coming from the race. Uncomfortably thin margins separate the leaders in the GC, KOM and points competitions; battles among both the breakaways and the heads of state seem to be de rigueur over ever practically major climb, and hilltop finishes are no longer a pre-requisite for a GC shake-up.

On Chaingate, my feelings, while mixed, return to the earlier statement that this is Tour de France—not some Mickey-Mouse race. I’m personally disheartened at the break in protocol—more than can be said for the veritable murderer’s row consulted by French television—but as a racer, I don’t need to imagine too hard to see myself riding exactly as Contador did. Best to view the breach like Renshaw’s maneuvers last week—they’re split second decisions in the heat of battle, and the jury (or in this case, the peloton) is seldom consistent in their reaction.

At any rate, the biggest victim in Chaingate may prove to not be Andy Schleck, nor SRAM, nor even the time-honored traditions of the Tour. For all his reverence to the unwritten rules of the pack, Lance Armstrong’s decision to wait for his fallen rival carried a heavy psychological component: I can wait for you and still win this race. Considering how battered Contador looked on the climb to Ax-3 Domain the day before, slumping back down onto his saddle after every effort, I don’t think he could have sent a clearer message to his rivals about his own vulnerability than riding past the hapless Schleck.

And while Armstrong’s legacy may shine brighter in light of Contador’s decision on Stage 15, his great escape will be a net negative in the long run—feelings I will not elaborate on until after the Tour. I do credit Armstrong for a hair-raising first hour—one that apparently came as no surprise, as riders were warming up to prepare—but even with Horner convoyed up to him (along with Ruben Plaza, to neutralize the Team GC battle), Lance never showed himself as a serious stage contender.

With two men in the move, you’d think a tactician heralded with as much fanfare as Johan Bruyneel would have been able to come up with something better than having Horner pull while Armstrong sat on—especially in light of the fact that sending Horner up the road could leverage the suddenly-relevant Team GC lead against the two Caisse d’Epargne riders.

Instead, the “best” director in the history of the Tour sent two proven soloists into a 9-man sprint that included some of the most realibly savvy breakaway sprinters in the peloton, with nary a feint, misdirection or tactical flourish; copies of “We Might As Well Win” now making an appearance on a B&N closeout rack near you.

I’ve heard all the excuses—we have to sell papers. We’re building the audience. It’s what people want. I even got the press release about the record viewership in the first week. But as Lance shuffled meekly through the little door today with a torn jersey and shattered expectations, I think many purveyors of coverage in this sport will see exactly how poorly they’ve accomplished these things. You don’t develop someone’s taste for brie by deep-frying it.

The failure of this much-hyped rivalry goes beyond Armstrong. For all the talk of RadioShack being a stacked squad, they sure haven’t shown themselves much in the first week. SaxoBank split the race on the cobbles. On the first day of meaningful climbs, a Frenchman carried off the stage win and the maillot jaune, while BBox Telecom convincingly (and ultimately, idiotically) managed the gaps behind. Today’s mountain selections came courtesy of Team Sky and the much-maligned Astana.

Other than an unsuccessful attempt at a crosswind field split on Stage 5, and some inexplicable parading toward the front on Stage 4, they’ve had little impact on the race. Of their touted pre-Tour contenders, only Levi Leipheimer remains within five minutes of the GC lead. And despite Armstrong’s oft-repeated faith in the man, Leipheimer has not been known to shine as Grand Tours go on. That Vuelta exclusion’s looking like a mighty clairvoyant move right about now. And did I mention the dope investigation?

So, on Levi’s scrappy, under-appreciated legs, hinges the fate of one of the most successful brands in the history of all sports. Can you even imagine it? No more armies of dentists dragging the LBS out of the red each year with Lance-replica Trek purchases. No more Chris Carmichael promising phantom results to middle-aged racers about to train themselves out of love with the sport. No more laurel wreaths cast at the feet of DS whose prolific success in July has allowed him to brush years of downright miserable classics results under the rug.

Even Contador has struggled to uphold his side of the rivalry. On today’s first category climbs, he couldn’t turn his teammates’ ax-wielding into a time gap or even a stage win. The final 2k were punctuated by attacks from at least five different riders—few of whom featured in any state-side pre-race commentary. Contador is still an obvious favorite—I think this will be more clear on the tougher climbs to come—but he’s yet to show head-and-shoulders above the rest of the field.

The only way the Lance v. Contador storyline can be spun now is through leveraging Leipheimer’s high GC position to keep the hero-worshippers on board for stage wins or the role of super domestique. And frankly, I’m not optimistic—understanding the complexities of teamwork takes some appreciation for the tactics of the sport, after all, and second-grader storylines and American-only recaps are seldom an effective way to do that.

Today the 2010 Tour de France changed dramatically. And while it may be bad news for the current business model of bringing cycling to Americans, for those who follow the sport outside of July, today’s action was a promising sign for the weeks to come. Wave good-bye the Tour of Lance and Alberto; Welcome to Le Tour 2.0.

While I took in today’s action in a slightly atypical fashion, I’ve got to say, I was thrilled with what I saw. GC riders and stage contenders took chances throughout the day: Dario Cioni made an ambitious first move, then Linus Gerdmann came through with an aggressive climb-and-descent attack, during which a dreaded spike in PSL took out race leader Vincenzo Nibali, who was in a fairly select pack pursuing the break.

Nibali was slow to remount and lost time on the day, ceding the GC lead back to Alexandre Vinokourov. This lead to some criticism of Vino’s post-crash aggression in the press. While I may have been watching in non-ideal conditions, my visibility wasn’t cataract poor by any means, and it’s my assertion that Evans drove the race as much, if not more, than Vinokourov.

In fact, Evans’ rainbow-clad dictation of the closing kilometers was one of the high points of the race for me. In a very tricky final climb, descent, and narrow, cobbled, uphill sprint, the World Champ went to the front and essentially said “If you want it, you’re gonna have to take it from me.” Watching him stomp away from Damiano Cunego—no slouch at this sort of finish—and calmly point to his jersey after finishing with a three-second gap was a pretty class effort, and only added to the enjoyment of a stage I won’t soon forget.

The day was not without its detractors, though—Vinokourov, despite his successes over the take-no-prisoners parcours, questioned whether stages like this should be in Grand Tours, calling it “harder than Paris-Roubax“. I think think, despite the rough conditions, that the stage’s single DNF barely puts it in the same sport as Roubaix, let alone the same league.

As a racer, stages like today’s (scaled down to my humble abilities, anyway) are the races I love the most—all the more so if the weather’s bad. Granted, I’m not firing them off for twenty days running, but if the tweets of most of the riders I follow are any indication, it was a rough day at the office, but hardly unbearable one. It’s rumored that some may even haveenjoyed themselves.

If the pattern continues, this year’s TdF depart in Rotterdam might just be that rapturous moment in which casual cycling fans finally dissociate “flat” from “boring” in their appreciation of the sport—unless, of course, Lance Armstrong crashes or misses a split. Then they’ll howl about how it’s not fair.

Regardless of the collective opinion of the sunburnt masses, I think a little chaos in the early going is a very good thing for Grand Tour racing, and for the sport in general. Too often—thanks especially to some over-zealous marketers of training plans and aero equipment—cycling competitions are cast as simple mathematical equations: watts/kg @ threshold, coefficient of drag x velocity^2, etc.

But off the trainer, in real-world wind tunnels, cycling’s as much about Spider Sense as anything else. Finding your way onto the right wheel; anticipating nervous moments and getting a good position before the battle starts; knowing which splits will take care of themselves and which you should bury yourself closing—these are the elements that get Grand Tour champions through the first week.

Some are tempted to credit these skills to the director and the radio; these people need to spend more time racing. The time scale of swerves and wheel touches is a fraction of the cognitive lag involved in any verbal communication, let alone one taking place over the radio. While directors can yell at their riders to move up, no amount of haranguing can impart the balance and know-how to make progress in a shoulder-to-shoulder peloton.

Cadel Evans pretty much hit the nail on the head with yesterday’s post-race tweet, though he was significantly less philosophical to see the Jersey leave his shoulders in the same fashion. While it may send the vehement anti-dopers into an emo funk, it should come as a surprise to no one that a canny veteran like Vino’ would end up in pink after another chaotic day.

Even if you hate the action and can’t stand the outcome, first-week chaos should at least be viewed as an investment in the quality of future stages. When the favorites are all clustered at the front of the GC, no one takes chances.

You think the podium places would have plodded up Ventoux if Contador had lost four minutes instead of 40 seconds in the early going at last Year’s TdF? For that matter, would Stefano Garzelli have put on such a show chasing KOM points at last year’s Giro if his squad hadn’t essentially lost the race for him in the opening day’s TTT?

Obviously, the current level of action isn’t sustainable, and probably not very fun for the riders—hopefully, the team time trial later this week take the nervousness out of pack. I think there’s a sweet spot for Grand Tours where the time gaps among the favorites are established enough that a touch of wheels won’t prove decisive, but where a big effort by a few teams could still alter the GC race.

With a little luck the TTT results will hit that sweet spot, and we’ll stay there until the final time trial in Verona.

There’s no doubt he’s got a couple more Top 10 TdF rides in him, but seeing how deep he dug for 4th last year, and how easily Contador and Schleck distanced themselves on the big climbs made rumors of his off-season transfer fee an eyebrow-raiser for me.

But Wiggo made a pretty strong statement today. Yes, the short, flat TT is his metier, but it can’t be easy to come into a Grand Tour as the favorite for the first stage—especially when you have no wins on the season, and when you’re just using the Giro as a tune-up race. Take five million pounds of expectation, add some slippery conditions, and the misfortunes of another British chrono crossover, and you could get your head into a real mess over this stage.

Don’t get me wrong—we’re still a long way from the foot of the Morzine, but today’s win is a very good sign for Wiggins fans. It would have been no big deal for the Brit to come in second—heck, anywhere in the top five would have been a good enough indicator of fitness—but taking the win showed resilience to pressure, and, perhaps most importantly, a still-burning desire to be the fastest SOB out there.

I’m not quite at a point where I’ll say he was worth the money, but I’m definitely looking forward to a more competitive performance in July.

[right-click for iTunes-compatible download]

(Contains many photos to which I do not own the rights, and footage from Sport+.)

For those who are asking, yes, I do plan to make more videos going forward, and yes, I do have footage from some other races this spring—namely, KBK, Gent-Wevelgem, and (maybe) Flanders. I have been especially busy this month because I am preparing to leave my current job at the end of May. Come June I anticipate having plenty of time on my hands.

Also, if anyone has any hints on better quality footage, these videos would come out much nicer. I would (and have) gladly paid for Cycling.TV, but I have no intention of giving them $100 until they can start scheduling races more than four days in advance.

But the past two editions have not been kind. Last year’s race ended with an uncharacteristic loss in a three-up sprint, and in this year’s race, Boonen was victimized by the combination of a brilliantly timed attack and a poorly negotiated bit of traffic furniture.

It’s not like Boonen has lost a step. While he was pretty much a non-factor in the bunch sprints at last year’s Tour, Boonen has maintained—if not improved—his ability to put in race-making moves. The Taaienberg in particular has been his personal playground this season; he crushed the field over it at Het Nieuwsblad, and used the climb to make today’s selection as well.

But let’s face it—Boonen is beginning to make a habit out of bending races to his will and then coming up short in the finale. E3 and Paris-Tours in ‘09, KBK and E3 again this year. Even in his biggest win in recent memory—the 2009 Paris-Roubiax—Boonen made the selecting attacks, but it was assistance from a few dodgy corners that secured him the win.

I’d hate to advocate for less aggressive racing (or tell Boonen/QS director Patrick Lefevere what to do), but a more conservative approach might better serve the Belgian champ. His QuickStep teammates were controlling the pace and shelling riders by the fistful in the run-up to the Taaienberg today.

Rather than detonating the field, QS might have done better to continue pressing the tempo, giving Boonen an armchair ride near the front of the pack while his rivals hemorrhaged teammates and burned matches jockeying to stay out of the wind. The end result would be a more rested Boonen, more battered opponents, and fewer kilometers between a decisive Boonen attack and the finish line.

Conversely, QuickStep might make better use of their numbers by putting one of Boonen’s high-octane lieutenants into the break, forcing rivals to shoulder the responsibility of pace-setting, and giving Boonen incentive to not attack until later in the event.

While quiet seasons thus far from renowned QS griefers Sylvain Chavanel and Stijn Devolder might have taken some of the sting out of that particular tactic, both Lefevere’s past performance in the classics and QuickStep’s empty slate thus far suggest the Belgian squad will be pulling out some new tricks as the meat of the classics season approaches.

[right-click for iTunes compatible download]

Also available on YouTube.

Source text from Cyclingnews’ live report, the final thread of Podium Cafe’s live discussion, and the first 50 results of a Twitter search for “Mendrisio” on 9/27/09. Cloud generated by Wordle with manual filtering by the author.

Tried to make it arc en ciel colors, but it just didn’t look as good as Team Embrocation (actually, it’s a default palette called “Blue Chill”). Probably could stand to slap together a real text scraper sometime to save time filtering out forum usernames, sigs and the like.

“I’m sure I’ve been beaten by cheats before, I know I have, and I’m sure I’ll be beaten by cheats in the future.”
-Cadel Evans

As true as that quote may be to the the realities of cycling and the workmanlike attitude of its author, it is now—at long last and at least until Cadel Evans starts another bike race—false.

You can make a knock on the Aussie for occasionally head-butting photographers or getting difficult during poor neutral service changes. But in a race dominated recently by national superteams stacked with one-day specialists, to see a luckless Grand Tour rider—the first multi-day specialist champ since Abraham Olano in 1995—from savvy-but-outgunned Australia stick the audacious solo move in the closing kilometers was quite satisfying.

Far less satisfying was the poor, almost atypically poor, performance of my countrymen in the very same event. Those of you who entered the Cannondale t-shirt contest anticipated an average placement of 17th; the best American this past Sunday (Craig Lewis) finished a dismal 59th, roughly three-and-a-half standard deviations outside the average guess.

The winning entry was from Brayton Osgood, whose guess of 48th place narrowly avoided a tie-breaker (which he would have lost) with the second-place pick of Christophe Black (47th). While Lewis could have narrowly met these poor expectations by winning his group, and was a good distance out of DNF, it’s clear that USA Cycling’s cannon-foddering of the Men’s Elite RR has still not become the point of shame that it should be among American fans.

And there’s more at stake here than national pride. The US risks the good graces of the UCI by stealing starting places from nations that might actually add something to the quality of the World Road Race. The consequences could be anything from revamped Worlds selection criteria, to a devaluation of points from American UCI events.

Given the Cold War between the UCI and the Grand Tours at the moment, and the recent repositioning of the Tour of California against the Giro, I think USA Cycling should not be going out of its way not to make enemies where it doesn’t have to.