I hate to say it, but the Tour de France is over. If you are fan like me, you are going through some serious withdrawals.
I have no problem admitting I only became interested in bike racing because of Lance Armstrong. His story is irresistible, even if someday someone proves that he was the most skilled cheater in history.
I also have no problem admitting that my interest waned a little after Lance retired (the first time) and the next two closest contenders — Jan Ullrich and Ivan Basso — were kicked out of the Tour just before it started the next year for illegal doping.
But the enthusiasm is back now, even if the Americans are mostly now the “domestique” of the Tour.
Part of the problem for addicts like me is getting sufficient access to the Tour.
Back in the day I ordered cable TV just for the month of July so I could get the OLN channel that used to carry the Tour. Now it is on VS — a station my TV does not have. So, I either casually “drop in” at my relatives and start watching VS, which is tough to do when their kids are already watching Nickelodeon, or I watch highlights all day at work on the Internet much the same way you watch (and avoid detection) March Madness every year.
If you do, try nbcsports.com or letour.com. Both are quite good and carry snippets of British accent legends Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen calling the race as if every second were the greatest sports moment in history.
I’ve often considered becoming a professional bike racer myself.
Growing up I was quite good at endurance sports, like running. I kind of burned out in high school, but I have picked up running again. I’m a little bit slower than I used to be. My time has gone from a six-minute mile to an 11-minute mile, but still get a thrill out of summiting what I like to call the Col d’Usury Pass (a 3.6-mile uphill run near my home in Arizona), all the while being chased by coyotes and sweating it out in 90-degree weather at 4 a.m. during the summer.
The truth, though, is that I’ve never been much of a biker.
Sure, I have a mountain bike, but I don’t have a road bike. And I don’t have a $5,000 budget for said bike. It doesn’t help that my dad, who loves biking, wrecks every other week and my carpool buddy crashed his bike and broke his collar bone last year.
I’m like the Schleck brothers — bad weather and descending 60 mph downhill are not for me.
I also don’t think I could handle the tight pants or clipless pedals (so-named, apparently, because you do actually clip your shoe into the pedal). Plus, I’m too tall: anyone above 5-foot-9 is automatically at a disadvantage when it comes to hills. And I’m not sure I could handle sitting on a bike seat all day, or drink my meals.
So, to be completely honest, I just like watching bike racing, and I just like watching the Tour de France.
But my dad, a true Tour addict, lived the dream a few years ago and visited the Tour. He took his road bike with him and rode a few routes before the real racers came roaring through. He even summited the mountain mecca of bike racing—L’Alpe d’Huez.
I was jealous, but not as jealous as I was of the guy in the devil suit chasing the riders up the mountain slopes.
Someday that’s going to be me.
Scott practices bankruptcy law with Lewis and Roca LLP in Phoenix by day and writes humor by night.