In the interest of going from one topic which, I'm sure, all of you are finding absolutely riveting, to another that I know you can't wait for me to revisit, this past week marked the first time in years that I haven't been in Pennsylvania for the first week in June to enjoy the fantastic and myriad charms of our American boys in lycra, as they duke it out for the first three US ProCycling Tour events of the year, and the US Pro Champion's jersey.
I have to admit that I was a little sad. Still, my Dad called from the roadside with a blow by blow all three days, and I am proud to say that my predictive powers as to whether or not a break will be caught are completely in tact. This would have been a very satisfying year for me, because it was an all-American podium, and the guy that won, Chris Wherry, is one of the nicest guys in the sport, and also one of the ones with the hottest rigs... if I do say so myself. The other two up there rule pretty hard as well - Chris Horner (in yellow) and Danny Pate (in Jelly Beans) are two of the most delightful and entertaining individuals you could ever hope to meet.
Unfortunately, this means that my special favorite Freddie Rodriguez has to give up his Captain America costume, but it just gives us another chance to savor the gentlemanly good grace with which he always conducts himself, and he's always going to be the US Pro Champion in my heart.
Ah, cycling. I wish I could have been there. Unfortunately, it would have conflicted with the Nine Inch Nails concert, and well, since that's been averaging somewhere south of happening just twice a decade, the choice was clear. Sorry, boys.
Meanwhile, across the pond, Big George won the prologue time trial in the Critérium du Dauphiné Libéré, and still wears the leader's jersey after today's stage. What a superstar that guy is. There is no one in the wide world of sports I love to see win more than that sweetiepants. I sent him a single sentence of congrats and got back a whole pile of exclamation points, so it sounds like he's chuffed with himself. It's hard to imagine how such a fat load of charm fits into one body, but somehow, he manages.
Go, George! GO!