La Vida Wanker

La Vida Wanker

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Watering Hole

He sits all teary-eyed throwing darts. It’s not just failure that occupies his mind, but malice.

Each dart he throws represents a Hincapie curse—a broken shift cable, a front flat, a cracked Madone...

We’re doing 80 in a 45 with two bikes on the (saggy) roof rack and one on the trunk.

And on that board, there’s a picture of me.

The sirens blare. He’s on our tail. I move over to the right lane. He follows.

Maybe it’s mercy or just a “Big Dumb George” mistake, but sometimes he misses.

And then he suddenly switches lanes to ticket another. Miracles do happen.

When you race with teammates, you don’t rely on miracles. You control your destiny. Things aren’t easy, but they’re easier. Because with numbers comes power.

I’m not talking about a flock of sheep fighting off a wolf, but a pride of lions hunting a crippled water buffalo. Think Sinead and company in any MWCCC race. Or Liebovitz and the Marian crew in the 2011 Collegiate Nationals Criterium Championship.

For too long, I’ve been on the wrong end of that spectrum. I've been the lame water buffalo—buoyant, bloated and slow. And all year, I’ve had company—huddling with my fellow bovines.

We’ve hidden together from rain and gravel, skirted real training and complained about our lack of filling feed. I've learned to see the world from dull, domesticated and entitled eyes.

But Saturday, something changed.

It’s a miracle what a satiric blog post can do—for reader and writer. Because this weekend, that cow became a killer. I was aggressive and started the breakaway. I fought for five laps off the front to finish behind two Texas Roadhouse riders despite what my SRM told me was impossible.

Because you just have to ignore the numbers when there are five TRHS riders, eight Alderfer Bergen guys and one Bissell master in a field of 24 starters. And it takes more than persistence to get a good result. You need to know the field, the wind, the course and you need the big GH to miss the board.

Saturday, GH flinched. And in that moment, I countered an attack, caught a wheel and was joined by a TRHS monster.

For five laps, I worked my ass off to stay with the break. I took my pulls, but I also prayed. Lots can go wrong in five laps, especially on a broken bike.

In the end, I finished third. And it was a vindication. Racing has never justified my existence, but a good result rarely has hurt anyone. (Unless there is USADA testing for the winner.)

I know; 3rd place isn’t a big deal. The super-duper fast guys weren't at the Fat and Skinny Tire Festival, but at Tour de Grove. Regardless, I raced hard and smart, and I finished on the podium in a tough race with a strong field.

And the rest of the car did well too. Axie rode like a beast to finish fourth in the rr and fifth in the crit while Robin killed it in both races—winning the sprint in the rr and taking the solo win in the crit. Sometimes, success begets success. In a car with pros, you can't help but do your best.

I would like to think this weekend speaks to the future—of races won and riders crying in my wake. But they say you cannot connect the dots looking forward. And for a moment, I'll agree.

The 2012 collegiate season is a year away and much can happen in that time. Come February, I may not be racing for the Northwestern University Cycling Team or doing any collegiate cycling at all. It’s far too early to say with any degree of certainty.

Regardless of what February brings, one thing is clear: There will be no more huddling with the water buffalo.

Coming soon: "Profiles In Courage": The past informs the present in a series of satirical vignettes.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

I Wish I Were A Real Cyclist

It’s true. As a lowly Cat 2 rider, I wish I knew what it means to be a real racer—to be one of the boys, to go hard in the paint, to be The Boss. (If you need a clue, just check out all the emails you were bcc’d on. Oops, whatever happened to privacy?)

I want to know that feeling of setting up a lead-out train on a group ride of fellow Cat 4/5 wankers. I want to win that sprint and brag about it all night. Group rides aren’t about training, they’re all about the final kick.

I want to be varsity. I want the exotties to fawn over me as I do my hill repeats at the boat launch. I want them to know I race and ride in all conditions—so long as it’s above 70, sunny and without wind.

I’m a real man, a hard man. I suck it up and eat at McDonalds on the road, and I never complain. Heck, I can stomach Panera if I have to. I can even deal with Qudoba, occasionally.

I’m the real deal, and my Zipps prove it. Nothing shows a man’s worth like the cost of his bike. Because when I get dropped by a girl, it just makes me feel that much better. Ah, overpriced carbon and the sound of deep dish wheels on a North Shore training ride.

I’m going to win DII nationals, and I want you to know it. However many laps I need to sit out of the road race, and however many officials I need to yell at to make it happen, it’s going down. (So long as I can find a team to race on.)

I’m a strong man, and talking behind your back proves it. There’s nothing like complaining to a bunch of juniors and calling you a bitch behind your back. It makes me feel like a real, strong man. Like I can stand up right to your face and tell you exactly what I think.

I’m a good racer, and I know how to listen to my powermeter. When I go above threshold, I know it’s time to pull myself out of the break. Winning the sprint for 20th place is what counts.

I’m a team leader, and I know what it takes. I’ve been to every race weekend and have always put myself last. (Except for that time on spring break when I led a ride that was too hard for some people. I guess the repeated warnings about its length and difficulty weren’t enough.)

And finally, I’m a good guy. I’ve got my friend’s backs. I let them train in my house on my velodynes, I shoot them training plans, let them cry on my shoulder and carry their secrets. Whenever someone crosses the line, I’m there to cheer for them. Always.

If you’re still reading this (and I pray to God you’re not), I’ve got a confession to make: I’ve never set up a lead-out train on a group ride, I’m neither varsity nor a real man, I’m never going to win nationals, I race like shit and I’m no longer (after this post, at least) a team leader or a good guy.

But frankly, I couldn’t be prouder of myself. Because it’s not about how fast you ride, or how expensive your pedals are. Hell, it’s not even about how much you brag, what your FTP is or how much you pay your high-dollar coach.

Cycling is about love of friends, family and sport. And it’s about competing at your best with humility and respect. It's about fun.

Sadly, these values are out of vogue. Something has happened, and the wankers now control the kitchen. And I’m left here with my Baker Boys cupcake asking, where have all the Pro Wankers gone?

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Boys are Back in Town

Evanston is no cyclist’s paradise. The streets—if they can be called that—are mere meandering paths between potholes that stretch on in narrow, wind-blasted and uninteresting monotony. And don’t mention the cars.

But the North Shore does have its benefits. And while it may not be the best thing for my power to weight ratio, the sheer number of bakeries and restaurants is a wonderful thing.

In my absence from this blog, I’ve been doing some riding. I've also been writing and reading. Heck, I've found these things called people, and I've been spending quality time with them. Mainly, I’ve been eating. And I am happy to say I have found two gems: Baker Boys Bakery in Highland Park and Wildflour Bakery & Cafe in Lake Bluff.

On most every ride, I find someplace warm and stop for a meal. Maybe it’s the cold or my utter apathy for the bike, but nothing warms the soul like cheesecake and red velvet frozen custard on a cold day. And I’ve been stopping into both of those places rather frequently to eat out.

It’s often a nice change of pace to eat out. But eating out—after or during a hard ride—can be a rather trying enterprise. You want to go hard, but you don’t wanna get things dirty before you sit down for your meal.

More importantly, if you’re carrying out, you have to deal with your load of food. So utilizing strategies of protection is key. The right kind of protection allows you to go faster with less caution for longer. In other words, it protects your cupcake.

(Yeah, yeah. Mixed metaphors and crude sexual language. But come on, it’s my first post in a long while. Cut this wanker some slack.)

To protect my cupcakes I use small plastic containers suspended from my seat by electrical tape. The suspension absorbs vibrations and protects the frosting. And by keeping the cupcake out of my vision, it prevents accidental inhalation during the ride.

(Out of sight is out of mind.)

Sometimes though, you have to take protection into your own hands. If you forget the tape, you just have to carry the treat. In that case, a cardboard box is recommended. And I suggest stuffing the box with tissue to keep things tight. You don’t want the cupcake moving about.

But let me caution you: 30 miles carrying a box of cupcakes requires some legit core strength—something you're not likely to have if you're eating a box of cupcakes...

In traditional fashion, the above was just a big segue from the barren blog des(s)ert to renewed fertile blogdom.

Readers, I hope you haven’t lost faith. I’m back. And I’m dumber than ever.

Coming soon:

Papp, part II
Guest post by James Bird
Chicago Bike Racing commentary
Collegiate Cycling News news!

So stay posted and start checking out the blog again.


Thursday, October 14, 2010

Pro Wanker Kits are Ready!

Wankers everywhere—it’s the day you’ve been waiting for. Finally, after much pause and procrastination, the Pro Wanker kits are ready to be purchased. It is time to send me your orders!

How this works:

1) You decide what you want to buy

2) You email me what you want to buy and include your sizing

(scottrosenfield AT mac DOT COM)

3) You write me a check for 20% of your order cost

4) We wait until the kits arrive

5) I mail the kits

6) You give me a check for the final 80% of your order cost

Main items for sale:

1) Jersey: $48

2) Bib Shorts: $72 (these cost so much because they charge $10 to provide extra material in the groin. Trust me, it’s necessary. Thin white bibs are not always what you want.)

3) Lycra booties: $20 (Note: these are a different material than last year. The Speed Lycra are a bit more expensive... by 18 bucks. But if we get 10 people who want that version...)

In addition, you can pick out other items from the Champion System website. (Scroll down to Order Form—USA) So long as we get 10 orders for one main item, all other items can be ordered 1 apiece. This does not include accessories such as gloves. (This link explains it.)


1) All orders are subject to a 2.5 percent Pro Wanker Junior Racing Tax. A 2.5 percent tax will be added to your order to help sponsor junior racing. The goal is to provide a damn big purse at Tour of America’s Dairyland for a junior omnium.

2) Unlike last year, I will not be paying for shipping.


Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Joe Papp Interview: Part I

In the mind of the public, doping is a dirty thing. We assign blame, claim righteous indignation and experience a visceral rejection to the cheating of our idols. So when our stars start to fall, we find pleasure in accelerating their descent.

Meanwhile, to the developing world―where conditions promote doping and ethical muddles―we show indifference. Viewing cycling, the sporting public sees doping as a test of morals rather than economic necessity.

And every year, another rider from a disadvantaged background emerges and shocks the world with his performance. For weeks, we are stunned by the talent. In the underdog, we have found a new idol.

Invariably, the star is soon found a fraud. One must only look to the 2010 Vuelta Espana for a current example. Ezequiel Mosquera and his teammate David Garcia da Pena tested positive for Hydroxyethyl Starch, a blood plasma expander.

Over four years ago, another rider tested positive for a different drug. In his case, it was for using synthetic testosterone at the 2006 Tour of Turkey. At the Landis hearings, this same rider provided testimony regarding the benefits of testosterone for cyclists. And earlier this year, he pleaded guilty to “conspiracy to distribute performance enhancing drugs.” As the Post Gazette reports, the plea agreement in the case is sealed. As of now, “it remains unclear if Mr. Papp is cooperating against anyone.”

Although a talented rider who raced on the U.S. National Team and represented the U.S. at the UCI Pan American Continental Championships, Papp was hardly a superstar in the mold of Alejandro Valverde or Alberto Contador. And unlike many other dopers, he was not running from abject poverty. His motivations are his own, and his comments cannot―as he repeated often―speak for all.

In the following interview, Mr. Papp discusses much. Over the course of more than two hours, we covered topics ranging from junior racing to doping in the Tour de France―to name a few. In a series of Q&As, I will publish his remarks. They are lightly edited to ease comprehension. Some lines are omitted, but only if they leave both the general message and literal meaning of the text unchanged. Additionally, my questions have been rephrased to guide your reading. Other than that, his words appear exactly as he spoke them.

Contador's Positive Test

PW: What was your initial reaction to the Contador positive?

JP: First reaction when I saw the headline was that it was a spoof. I couldn’t believe it. When I read it, it was horrifying. I cannot imagine Contador intentionally doped with clenbuterol. It’s a doping product that is not very effective; it produces horrible side effects, especially leg cramps and muscle cramps that are unbearable. [Clenbuterol is] not in the pantheon of doping products that any cyclist, let alone a Tour de France contender, would reach for.

PW: Beyond the sanctions Contador may be facing, what results could the positive have on cycling?

JP: I think it’s going to be terrible. We’re at a point here in the public and also with the media that the level of cynicism is off the charts right now. And the predominate initial reaction will be rolling of the eyes... “Oh those cyclists. always doped...they’ve been doped since 1900...” I don’t think many people will initially want to hear or really think it’s food contamination.

PW: Earlier this year, the Radioshack rider Li Fuyu tested positive for clenbuterol. WADA and the UCI were hardly lenient with him. What type of position does this leave both organizations now in dealing with Contador?

JP: They’re in a horrible position. I don’t even know what leeway―if any―they even have...

Unless they can find a piece of meat that came off the plate of the meat that supposedly contaminated his urine with clenbuterol, I don’t think there is anything they can do for him.

PW: So does the Contador case show the need for changes to the WADA Strict Liability policy?

JP: Absolutely. There has to be the provision within the code for the adjudication of the case of legitimate food contaminate in such a manner as to not penalize the athlete. If he didn’t do it―if he really had food contamination―he shouldn’t lose the Tour de France.

(Until the next question, the following material was lifted from a portion of the interview that occurred several moments later.)

Is that [the stripping of his Tour de France title] really the right thing, the right response? I don’t want him to be positive. I’m horrified.

I’d much rather him be positive for a blood transfusion, cortisone, EPO― a product that makes sense to use. In that case, I'd say he’s a dirty cheating scumbag just like I was.

Why do you take EPO? Because it really, really works.

PW: Can you speak to the improved testing methods and how they may have affected the Contador positive?

JP: If the labs are getting more effective and more exact in what they are able to screen for... let’s say they can find traces or metabolites they may not have been able to identify before because the quantity was too small. What if they start identifying clenbuterol in urine samples that is really from food contamination that they didn’t pick up before because their protocol wasn’t as exacting. It’s horrifying to think of that.

PW: Why do you think Contador did not use clenbuterol to improve his performance?

JP: The doping that takes place at the elite is pretty sophisticated, rational doping, and taking

clenbuterol during the Tour de France is not rational.

It doesn’t do anything. If you’re taking clenbuterol because you think it has an anabolic affect, it’s just better to take testosterone. And if you’re taking it because it has an anti-asthma affect, just take salbutamol which you can get a therapeutic use exemption (TUE) for.

I used clenbuterol and it’s horrible. I couldn’t wait to get that out of my system and to never touch it again. It goes against all logical thought. I can’t think of any reason why he’d take it at any point during the year.

(The following paragraph was added after email correspondence with

Mr. Papp.)

I can’t think of any reason why he’d take it at any point during the year, though there are riders – especially in Europe – who believe in the benefits of clenbuterol if taken during the off-season, or outside a period of heavy racing. I just think that there are drugs that do what Clen [clenbuterol] is supposed to do better, with fewer side effects and less risk of detection.

Doping in the Junior and U23 Ranks

PW: Following the positives of the Szczepaniak brothers, it appears that doping has reached the junior ranks. Can you speak to this at all?

JP: I think doping... has trickled down into the age group racing and the recreational racing. We know for a fact that it takes place at the junior level and certainly the u23 level in Europe. In Italy, for example, I can think of a few different instances where junior or u23 athletes have been doped by their coaches or doctors―typically often without their really knowing they’re really being doped. I haven’t heard of a case yet with a junior orchestrating their own doping program.

PW: What differentiates those countries from the U.S.?

JP: Where the economic opportunity is not very good for the majority

of the population, then the use of doping products at u23 or the junior level when competing for [the] World Championships becomes something plausible. It means the difference between 2000 Euros a month or a couple hundred Euros a month as a bus driver. You’re talking 10 times increase in salary. If you’re trying to help your family survive, it’s a different equation than if you’re an American kid trying to go faster on his bike. It doesn’t make it any less of a bad thing, but a bit more understandable.

The difference [is] in the importance that cycling occupies in different cultures in different countries. In the U.S., it’s almost exclusively a recreation pursuit. Anyone who goes into cycling that isn’t at the level of a Tour de France contender in the U.S. is going to be losing money if you figure what their opportunity cost it...

[However,] Cycling offers not just a way to make money, but a pretty fun exciting way to make money―provides travel and a whole host of opportunities that aren’t available if you’re just a laborer, if you’re working in your town... It’s a wonder that it [doping in poor countries] doesn’t happen more.

(Until the next question, the following material was lifted from a portion of the interview that occurred several moments later.)

As an aside, we’re not aware of the fact that doping is seen in a very different context in countries outside the U.S., Canada, Britain, Western countries, where really there isn’t economic opportunity. Where you’re really looking at making 200 Euros a month as an unskilled laborer. It really is a different calculus. People can try to avoid accepting that, if they want. But it still doesn’t change that it’s a different reality for the person on the ground...

PW: And how can juniors afford a doping program?

JP: The doping products themselves are not expensive. There are many countries in which you can buy steroids, testosterone, HGH (human growth hormone)―you can buy them over-the-counter without prescription and they don’t cost a lot...

PW: As juniors who dope leave the junior ranks, do they continue doping?

JP: They don’t give up the doping program. If they needed the doping program in order to progress to the level they’re at, they’re not likely to give it up just because they got to the level where they’re earning a wage. Bernhard Kohl is a good example of that. He basically explained that he started doping at the beginning of his career and each of his advancements, progressions in the sport, was connected to doping. When he got to the top, it wasn’t something he stopped was part of his preparation, part of his program.

PW: Considering that doping appears to be largely a socio-economic issue in the developing world, what can be done to clean the sport?

JP: (Until the next paragraph, the following material was lifted from a portion of the interview that occurred several moments earlier.)

The anti-doping education and the anti-doping effort in general need to be comprehensive and also flexible. Bend with the wind on the ground and take into account what the reality on the local level is. On the Internet forums, a lot of moral indignation and visceral rejection of doping [occurs]. Pretty harsh condemnation of the people accused or implicated in doping and that’s understandable certainly... But you wouldn’t hear it or get that same example in Uruguay or Argentina. It’s a different environment entirely.

PW: Other than economic and educational changes, what can be done?

JP: It would seem that a big problem is the ease of access to the pharmaceuticals... This is from personal experience: definitely eye-opening the willingness of medical professionals in these kind of countries to actively involve themselves in managing your doping program. The lack of fear. It was something very normal. If anything, they looked at doing you a service that you didn’t damage your health. Took pride in their involvement and helping their athletes to do the best job doping they possibly could...

It’s going to have to come from the state side and within the medical association in those countries... It’s a lot easier to condition behavior at the beginning than to change it after it’s established in a pattern.

PW: And what role does testing play in this?

JP: Anybody who thinks of it [that] we’re going to see radical change just from increasing vigilance over the athletes is―I think―going to be disappointed. We’re dealing with a 100 years of tradition and history here.

PW: Is there anything else you'd like to say?

JP: Scott, this was a great interview and I really want to thank you for giving me the chance to share my experiences and observations with your readers. I love cycling and I always have…I’m grateful for what cycling gave me, I’m remorseful for how I hurt the sport, but I just want to encourage you all not to give up on bike racing, either as fans or participants.

PW: In the days since I first interviewed Papp, Kirk O'Bee has been sanctioned for doping, Ezequiel Mosquera and his teammate David Garcia da Pena have tested positive for a blood plasma expander, and elevated levels of plasticizers have been found in Alberto Contador's blood.

Clearly, doping continues in the professional peloton, and for this, fans of the sport should be saddened. However, the current situation provides an unparalleled opportunity. For the first time in years, nearly the entire sport is implicated in fraud. From Alberto Contador down to domestic professionals, the veneer has been shattered. The truth is now visible for all to see—doping is endemic in cycling.

And this truth is almost too terrifying and horrific to bear. It threatens to destroy the love of even the most ardent fan. It shatters the idealism and beauty cycling is built upon. So in this trying moment, we must be strong. We must recognize the existence of widespread doping without abandoning the sport or losing hope. We must move past denial and fear to action.

As Adam Myerson wrote earlier this year, it’s time to clean house—fully. Let there be no doper left standing.

“So burn down Babylon. Burn pro cycling down. There will still be racing, there will still be races. Burn it down, so we can build it up again new. I condemn Landis' original decision to participate in a corrupt, immoral system. But I'll stand in front of the flames with him and watch it burn.”

Stay tuned for the final installments of the Papp interview.

Photos courtesy of Joe Papp

Monday, October 4, 2010

Fall Fling—Weekend Two

A post on Saturday's racing is coming. Until then, enjoy Sunday's race report.

In bike racing, one can inflict a tremendous amount of pain on his competition. But because people are fairly rational actors, it is almost always in one’s best interest to cause the minimum amount of pain to achieve his goals.

After all, the pain you impose upon your competition is a pain you too must feel. No matter how powerful you are, it takes effort to cause hardship. So ordinarily, there is no need to attack and sit up just to cause pain for your competition.

But as with most statements, the above is based on a simple assumption: people are rational actors.

And if you’ve met me, you realize the above is rather false.
Sunday is a rather clear example of this reality.

Going into the race, I was sitting either 5th or 4th overall in the 1/2s. My goals were to protect my lead, get the IsCorp juniors into a break and to leapfrog the riders ahead of me.

As things began, it was clear that the race was going to be a painful one. The wind was brutal. To ride outside of the draft was to tempt fate.

Somehow, a break made it up the road. The original break was small but dangerous. I tried several times to bridge the gap, but I was covered. Eventually, another move went—this one larger and even more dangerous. After a several lap chase, the field and I had managed to close the distance.

Naturally, when I relented and settled into the pack, the same group of riders attacked. Up the road, the race was riding away from me.

At this point, a rational actor would have made a decision: Try to bridge the gap, or focus on winning out of the remaining field. Naturally, frustration rendered such a decision moot.

Rather than break away, I began a policy of scorched earth. Attacking laterally, I would do a series of sprints to dislodge the weaker riders. Once up to speed, I would settle into an anaerobic pace. As I tired, I would get up to sprint again. For several laps, I continued this policy.

I was not attempting to break away. The initial accelerations were not violent enough, and the pulls were far too hard. Rather, my efforts were with a single intention: to cause the long line of faces behind me to grimace in pain.

Finally, the cards read three to go. My legs were dead from torturing the field, but I decided to make a final dig.

So I attacked. And this time, I did little looking back.

With the day over, my teammates and I discussed the racing. To my utter joy, they mentioned the field’s ire at my riding.

“Who’s this guy in a pink kit, and why the hell is he attacking again?”

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Fall Fling 2010

A year wiser?

One year ago, I penned my "famous" first foray into blogging. And in a single sentence, my style was captured: “The Fall Fling is maybe a brownie that was left over from last weekend’s party and is now a bit stale and hard with some random powdered sugar sprinkled on top.”

Instantly, my readers knew: I’m an idiot who’s obsessed with food and writes pretentiously with grand ambitious analogies that can be reduced to meaningless jibber. (Like this sentence.)

Well readers, little has changed—I’m still your favorite fat idiot. Except a year has passed. So while today marks 365 days since my first blog post, it also marks a year since my first full foray into the Fall Fling.

A year heavier!

Several pounds heavier and a category “better,” I entered this year’s Fall Fling with low expectations. Primarily, I was there to support the IsCorp juniors—Peter Davis, Kevin Lindlau and Kaleb Koch—and the new Northwestern cyclists.

Invariably, George Hincapie decided to rain on our parade. Not only did several of the NU kids fail to show (with legitimate excuses, of course), but the juniorfolk arrived with less than 20 minutes to spare.

As I rushed around doing nothing in particular, I realized my brakes were not functioning. Eventually, I found my worn down brake-pads were to blame—the shoes were gouging wonderfully circular cuts into my carbon wheels.

Thankfully, GH and I have a close relationship (after all, his brother makes my kits). In times of cycling crisis, I prevail. So the mechanical turned out to be no problem at all. I just raced without brake pads, right T-Peng?

Known Unknowns and Unknown Unknowns

As we lined up, the IsCorp super junior squad and I outlined our strategy: I would try to break away, Kevin and Petey would attack and try to control the field, and we’d lead Kaleb out in the event of a field sprint.

While things began predictably unpredictable, they took a turn for the unpredictably unpredictable when Petey snapped his chain. Thankfully, ABR has the unlimited free lap rule and he was able to find a similar size bike to race—which he did, and race the heck out of.

As Petey rejoined the pack, we realized a Kenda rider was in attendance. Things suddenly got more confusing. As is always the case, every rider in the field followed the one pro guy around expecting him to do all of the work. It didn't matter that there were around 100 other guys in the race. So long as there is one pro, nobody is required to do any pulling.

So when the break went and Mr.Kenda didn’t chase, the break was gone.

Naturally, when I’m supposed to be coaching the juniors, I make the biggest mistakes. As I began to patrol the front following great pulls by Petey and Kevin, I hesitated. Restarting the lead-out from the final corner, I swung right and was trapped between the curb and another rider. Naturally, there was nothing to be done. Kaleb had to go the long way around and was unable to win the field sprint. Good job, coach!

Finally, the TT

Sunday brought its own surprises. With the failure of my SRM to work and my front wheel still flat from the ABR TTT, I was hesitant to race. Naturally, TTs are my strength for when equipment matters more than talent, I find success. Sadly, my equipment was not up to par.

And after having to move and park three separate times, I managed to get on the bike with just enough time to get nice and cool before my start. Regardless, I still threw down a somewhat respectable time.

In comparison, the juniors all rode great races. Kevin blasted through the course and Petey rode very well on his road bike.

One weekend down. One more to go. Watch out world—Kaleb returns. And this time without an idiot lead-out.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Upcoming Papp Interview

Laptop on legs, he sits on his bed—his flabby form contained by nothing but well-worn tighty whities. Surrounding him, spilled coke mixes with Cheetos crumbs

In other words, it’s just another night for just another blogger.

Breaking the silence, his inbox suddenly reads: One New Message. And just like that, he has a real story. He has a lead.

And assuming the blogger can actually write coherent sentences, this single email transforms him from overweight deadbeat into dignified journalist.

Well folks, I don’t drink pop, and I rarely eat Cheetos. Also and rather unexpectedly, I don’t think tighty whities look too bad on me. (Just ask Axie, Will or Ian.)

But my inbox does read 1025 new messages...

Anyway, on the urging of a Mr. Mark French, I contacted Joe Papp about an interview. Mr. Papp has agreed to speak with me. The focus of our discussion will be doping and junior/u23 racing.

This—the junior/u23 racing—will be a Pro Wanker exclusive interview. Yep, the pink and white has just made the bigs. (hahaha. Yeah right!)

As part of the interview, I would like to take questions from my readers for Mr. Papp. So readers, feel free to post your question in the comment section of this post or email them to me: scottrosenfield AT mac dot com