Bonk

I’m of the opinion that the winner of today’s stage in the Tour de France, Mr. Michael Rasmussen of Denmark, looks like a starving Ethiopian child, except he’s white. Evidence:

Srsly, as Mr. Porcaro stated, “Someone needs to feed him.”

All joking aside, today’s stage from Bourg d’Oisans to La Toussuire epitomizes what I love about the Tour de France, and I wish I could’ve seen more of it. You have an early breakaway led by Rasmussen trying to hold off the peloton over hundreds of kilometers of roads. You have a dangerous rider such as Levi Leipheimer storming out of the main pack on a crucial climb, and coming agonizingly close to turning the standings upside-down. And of course there is the final climb at the end of a already-murderous day of climbing, where the truly great riders emerge and where others simply fall apart.

I’ve never been a big fan of Floyd Landis, he doesn’t seem to respect the maillot jaune, and I always took his short post-race remarks to be a sign of arrogance and condescension, and not of humility. Obviously I don’t know him personally, so all of those attributes could certainly be off the mark, but any preconceived notions I had of his character were out the window this afternoon, and you could feel nothing but sympathy for a man who was so close to winning the entire Tour, only to crumble on the final climb of the most crucial stage of the Tour thus far, essentially killing all of his hopes and dreams of wearing yellow in Paris. Landis was completely shattered.

That emotion is one of the primary reasons I watch the Tour. The only other comparable sporting event I can imagine is the World Cup. In no other sporting realm have I ever witnessed such agony and such joy, so up-close and personal, on such a consistent daily basis. These guys wear their hearts on their sleeves every single day, and you can witness their pain and suffering on every single pedal of their bikes, and you feel as if you’re climbing that mountain right there with them. That personal drama, along with the beauty of a flowing peloton and the excitement of the breakaway, have made me a true fan of the Tour de France. Vive le Tour.

Links, links, links:

So many lols.

We also have an epilogue to yesterday’s photoshopping quest. Mr. Porcaro was bored and felt the need to go even further.

And Mr. Behrend has one more contribution to the cause:

Completely speechless.

Yeah.

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