Have questions about the Tour de France? He has the inside scoop
Note from a newsroom colleague:
Dear Chris,
How was France? I imagined you sitting at a sidewalk cafe drinking Irish coffee and ogling a blond across the way while pretending to study the fingernails of your outstretched hand.
Meanwhile, I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn to watch the Tour de France on Versus. How you could be in Paris on an exceptionally long “assignment” taste-testing regional brandies or whatever it was you were doing and not report on the race is beyond me. But here is your chance at redemption. (I figure that any sport with a Team Liquigas-Doimo has to be on your beat.)
Would be so kind as to clear up some questions about the lesser-explored aspects of the Tour?
Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen are doing their usual admirable jobs explaining the important matters of the race, but since you are a man of the details I thought these more peripheral issues would be right up your ruelle. Also I thought it unlikely they would respond since they at least give the appearance of actually working.
1. Who are these race team sponsors and do they realize this is not really a good way to advertise? Other than RadioShack and teams that have the word “bank” in their names, I’d wager six out of four Americans haven’t a clue. Astana? Garmin-Transitions? Euskaltel-Euskadi? Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da?
2. What’s with the parade of bonbons at the finish of each stage? It looks like the race route has been visited by the Marshmallow Man from “Ghostbusters.”
3. About the outfits worn by the models/presenters: Do they send them down the line to the girls in the next city or do they all have their own? I ask because those leatherette looking pantsuits appear a tad ill-fitting.
And how do they decide who gets to wear what? “I’m sorry. Since you’ve drawn the short straw you must wear the pink polka-dot skirt that is made out of an open umbrella.”
Your colleague,
Lauren
::
Dear Lauren,
Thanks for writing. I have no idea.
Chris
::
Actually, I have been following the race rather closely, both here and during my recent boondoggle to Paris, and am happy to offer up some insider knowledge. And I promise not to be flip, for these are incredible athletes accomplishing incredible things. I know this because, like coaches and editors, they hardly ever smile. All my life I have been drawn to seriously obsessive people. Which explains my love for newspapers and cycling. (Or is it biking?)
Anyway, in a fit of genius only the French could muster, you’ll notice that this year’s Tour de France is being held primarily on cobblestones, some of them loose.
If all goes according to plan, they will hold the next Tour de France on crushed Pepsi bottles, which could be tough on those thin-as-soup racing tires but will make for some really good TV. And heck, you already have built-in sponsors: Pepsi and Kaiser Permanente.
From what I am able to discern, the race itself is coming down to a duel between the virtually uncoachable Alberto Contador and a dude by the name of Andy Schleck, who I’m pretty sure was in my P.E. class in high school, where he still holds the school record for most swirlies by a sophomore.
After Contador overtook him during a recent mechanical breakdown, Schleck spat: “My stomach is full of anger and I will take my revenge.”
That’s Zorro talk, and I like it. I can almost hear Antonio Banderas spewing that sort of geeky Euro dialogue in the movie version, if they ever did a movie of the Tour de France, which is so unlikely that it’s almost a sure thing.
I mean, couldn’t you just see Mike Myers in some sort of Austin Powers-style spoof? Will Ferrell as the chubby team leader would be funny as well. Martin Short should be in there, too, for all the obvious reasons: He’s hilarious and needs the work.
Their nemesis would likely be Cameron Diaz, not just because she is a supreme actress of the first order, but because she would look very good in form-fitting Lycra (I’m just guessing).
In fact, in a perfect world, Diaz would probably be the only person allowed to wear form-fitting Lycra, and she’d have to wear it all the time.
For the record, in form-fitting Lycra, I resemble a pregnant dachshund.
Hope this helps, Lauren. As always, think of the Tour de France as just a really big soap opera. Too much opera, not enough soap.
