new favorite blog
(This will not become the all Le Tour all the time blog, I promise, but this is very exciting!)
My friends, I love the Tour de France. It may be that this will be received with eyerolling by some of my more usual readers who don't really give a rat's ass whether or not Lance Armstrong wins an unprecedented 6 consecutive Tours de France, and stands in front of the Arc de Triomphe looking like a lycra clad astronaught as the greatest Tour rider of all time, or if he is beaten by another worthy contender; but here at Crazy Jane's International Project Headquarters, there will likely be long-winded and rhapsodic obeisances made as I follow the events that will soon unfold in France with what I can only admit will be rabid enthusiasm. Brace yourselves, my dear readers.
My predictions: Lance Armstrong will win by minutes. His usual and most dangerous rival, German diesel Jan Ullrich, will ride like a stud and a sportsman, and will have long, bronzed legs; but I fear he will be outgunned by Tyler Hamilton, provided New England's king of pain management avoids breaking any bones. My podium picks: Lance, Tyler, Jan. Alessandro Petacchi will punk that little Napoleonic brat Robbie McEwen on the line every single day in the sprints, but the big Italian will likely be broken by the mountains in the last week, leaving us in danger of having to see Mr. Tiny take the green jersey in Paris (Message to Alessandro: PLEASE SAVE US FROM THAT FATE!). Reeechard Virenque will mostly likely ride even deeper into the hearts of French housewives everywhere while scoring the King of the Mountains jersey yet again, while I sigh with resignation and pray for even just the smallest glimpse of Laurent Jalabert doing his new TV gig. Ah, the panda... I miss him! His charms were magnificent.
I'm not sure what it is, exactly, about Le Tour de France that gets me, but it really, really does. It's a beautiful event, and I never fail to be astounded by the way it generates epic moments of transcendence and impossible to predict examples of all the poetry of human endeavor in all it's useless beauty (thanks, Elvis C.). I, along with my esteemed colleague, will be writing a daily column for the Daily Peloton; my contribution serves an egregiously under-served segment of cycling's fans - girls who can see a church by daylight - and tips the old chapeau to all the style, panache and beauty of the tour, appreciating our boys' heroic efforts on the bike, along with their mad skillz when it comes to hair-styling and accessorization. It may occasionally be stupid, but what it won't be is ironic, because it will be chock-loaded with my genuine, and in some ways, rather embarrassing enthusiasm for this fantastic sport and the brilliant creatures who make it so delicieux. Oh yes.
Yay! All sports writing should be like this! Read her.
UPDATED: Crazy Jane also has a quite fun regular blog (the other being Tour stuff), which is here.
worm "Folsom Prison Blues," Johnny Cash (not Firewater)
namecheck Tugboat "We Hope You're Okay" Hamilton