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For most of the country, the last two weeks of July are probably just… well, the last two weeks of July. For those of us who live in Austin, Texas, however, the last two weeks of July were all about THE TOUR.
"De France", that is. This here is the home of Lance Armstrong. Who? You know, the five-time champion of the Tour and international cycling phenom. The guy that hops on a bike and eats mountains for breakfast, then goes tearing off ahead of the competitors that are left on the road. Oh come on - the guy in the commercials for the U.S. Postal Service and Suzuki. THAT guy.
Yeah, Lance is a pretty big deal around here. So I started watching the Tour on TV to see this legendary man in action. (I also needed some viable fodder for small talk around the break room during the month of July, i.e., "Did you see Lance’s breakaway in Stage Four last night? Boy can that guy ride!") I discovered that, beyond all expectation, watching the Tour on "The Outdoor Life" Network was really good TV viewing. It wasn’t boring - and I even learned some history! Go figure.
For those of you unfamiliar with the nature of the Tour (i.e., for those of you who are relatively normal human beings not living in the cycling-crazed town of Austin), here’s a little background info. The Tour de France is kind of like the Super Bowl of the cycling world. Except longer (it happens over a span of 3 weeks), and harder (it involves over 2000 miles of riding, many of those miles in the MOUNTAINS), and the teams are from all over the world. (Ok, so maybe it’s really more like the Olympics, but without *NSYNC doing a cheesy pre-show.) It all started in 1903 as a publicity stunt — which must make it the most successful publicity stunt ever, because it has continued for 100 years. The race starts and ends in Paris, but the exact route changes every year (to keep things more interesting).
Also like the Olympics, there are several prizes at stake, instead of just one (again, this keeps things interesting). Not only is there the coveted yellow jersey for the overall leader; there’s also the white jersey for the best young rider (under age 25); the red polka dot jersey for the "king of the mountains," and the green jersey for the best sprinter. Who wins these awards is determined by points, not only by pure who-crosses-the-finish-line-first (that would be far too easy, and then it wouldn’t be a sport, now, would it?). I’m waiting for them to introduce the plaid jersey for the oldest rider, but they haven’t gotten the funding for it yet.
Historically, the Tour has been dominated by French wins (they ARE the parent country, after all). The US did not have much of a presence until the 1980’s when Greg LeMond hit the scene. (Incidentally, this guy has the record for the smallest margin of victory in a Tour: he won by a mere eight seconds in a sprint to the finish in 1989. For comparison, the largest margin of victory is two hours 49 minutes, achieved in the 1903 race. This year’s margin was one min, one second — close, but not nail-bitingly close by cycling standards.) Of course now there’s dear old Lance dominating everything. Go USA.
And go they do. In case you thought that cycling was a comparatively "safe" sport, think again. These guys are riding up to around 40mph on BIKES, people. Downhill. In the Alps. Taking hairpin turns on two skinny wheels, no matter the weather conditions. Oh yeah, they wear helmets (most of the time) - but helmets won’t protect you from the unfortunate random fall, broken bones, and whatnot. Of course, mere broken bones aren’t enough to stop these he-men. Tyler Hamilton rode the entire Tour this year with a fractured collarbone (Ow!), and not just rode somewhere near the back—he WON a stage! Really. Like so many athletes, these guys are obsessed.
Perhaps the only people who can beat the riders in the obsession department are the fans. I mean come on, can you imagine how early these people had to get up in the morning to get a spot right along the Tour route, close enough to catch some of the sweat dripping off of the riders? Seriously - fans would run alongside the bikes, yelling and waving at the cameras. Other nuts would wave big flags in the riders' faces as they passed, whipping them out of the way at the last second, like lunatic matadors. At times I didn’t know if I was watching the Tour de France or the Running of the Bulls in Spain. And what was with the costumes? We saw clowns, Santa Claus, and more devils with pitchforks than should be found at your normal Halloween party. Maybe it’s a French thing.
Maybe I’ll just have to do some more cycling-watching to learn more about this crazy sport. After all, Robin Williams and Arnold Schwarzenegger are fans (they both made cameos at this year’s Tour—this was before Arnie had that whole governor thing taking up all of his time, of course). So, even though my couch-potato friends might look at me askance, I get into this cycling thing. Heck, I may even hop on a bike right now! It looks like a great day for a ride… Of course, it’s late summer in Texas, and the temperature outside is 101 degrees. Maybe I’ll have another ice-cold soda and get back to watching TV after all.
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