Dopo la Vittoria

There’s a reason cyclists train to the point of delirious exhaustion. There’s a reason cyclists obsess over power profiles and outputs with the same intensity that Jonathan Vaughters strategically plucks his mutton chops. There’s a reason cyclists admire a single digit body fat percentage with schoolgirl-like jealousy. Cyclists want to win. They want to cross the finish line before every other single rider in the race and sip the intoxicating and violently addictive nectar of victory. It’s what motivates us to do roughly 85% of the ridiculous things cyclists do (the other 15% is loosely scattered between self adulation, female acquisition and European mimicry). It is important to note that once victory has been achieved there are certain actions and traditions that must still be adhered to, a general timeline of events that lets everyone know “I’ve been here before and intend on coming back”. With that said let us delve into the world of post triumph decorum.

Io: Valentino I have a race this weekend.
Valentino: Certo, you want I should prepare the victory sacco?
Io: Assalutamente, be sure you add the new Prada cologne and call Sidi about my new podium specific Ergo 3 Vernice’s.
Valentino: Shall we include the good champagne?
Io: That’s a ridiculous question, you know you should and please try to prevent Bernard Hinault from trying to hang out with us afterwards… there’s a look in his occhi I don’t trust.

Post Victory Salute
Other sites have gone into great depth as to what is and isn’t acceptable finish line etiquette (see Cycling Tips article for a refresher) so we’ll bypass this and move straight into what happens immediately after that. It is imperative that the first thing you do is to find your soigneur. He (sometimes she) will almost always be clad in a much too tight team jersey or gilet, pale arms vying valiantly for any semblance of solar rays that may exist. The soigneur will have a backpack chock full of too many things the most important of which will be beverages. It needs to be carbonated, it needs to be full of sugar and it needs to be odd-sized. If ever presented with a 12oz can, spiking it into the tarmac is absolutely encouraged and applauded. 330ml is the most any canned beverage need ever be but extra points are awarded for non-commercially available sizings. Smaller cans are important because remember the cyclist is an inherently frail individual so any opportunity to exert power and dominance over an inanimate object should be seized upon with gusto. In the midst of the drink consumption and euphoric congratulations from your soigneur he or she shall inform you where you will be peeing into a cup shortly thereafter.

I has drinks

Dopo Drink
Depending on the type of race a few things can follow after beverage consumption. Mountain top finishes are brutal and depleting assaults on the sporting physique ergo, collapsing in a dramatic heap of inspiring exhaustion is completely appropriate. The well seasoned soigneur will be nearby with foil blankets and possibly canned oxygen for maximum televised effect. Sprint stages are a bit different in that immediate congratulations of one’s teammates is absolutely necessary. Within the scrum of laudatory praise from opponents and fellow team riders homo-erotic interactions are less the exception and more the norm. Cheek kissing, hugging, face clutching, uncomfortably close head locks, a little bit of crying and frantic lead-out man searching ala Rocky and Adrian; the self assured cyclist shies away from none of these pleasantries. In addition to inter-team celebrations there will be a media melange of near Papal proportions (note: this increases ten fold with Italian victories on Italian soil) and it is advisable to have a body guard of sorts who will utilize brutish physical force to rid the exhausted champion of the lecherous admirers who wish to touch him.

Do we not pay taxes and do blow now?

Dopo Embraces
Being one step closer to actually gracing the top spot of the podium it is imperative to now get cleaned up. Stepping onto the victor’s stage wearing the same jersey you won in is like the Brothers Schleck getting a GQ “Year’s Best Dressed” award. Discarding the soiled race jersey for a fresh and camera ready new one is du rigueur in this realm. This is a time to show the sponsors just exactly why they decided to fork over their precious golden bounty so the adornment of crisp new kit is paramount. Cleaning of the face and body should be carried out by a team handler and done so exclusively with what I commonly refer to as “Paper Towel Hand-Mit Gloves”. These little European gems not only cleanse the body of sweat and road grime, they exfoliate the skin and leave the recipient feeling refreshed and virile. Knowing full well that cheeks are about to meet lips a couple of Altoids and a spritz of good cologne can go a long way to determining where the evening may head.

On The Podium
Before receiving the fruits of one’s labor it’s important to prepare for a few things so as to avoid potential embarrassment. 1) Your trophy is going to be strange. If you have an irrational fear of plush toys, prepare to confront that head on. Experiment with what type of facial hair goes best with a Basque beret. Prepare for the possibility of being the proud owner of a Kangaroo or a St. Bernard. Most importantly though, just make sure you can lift the damn thing above your head. 2) You will be flanked by beautiful women whilst you wear not much more than a body sock. Determine beforehand if two or three cheek kisses is the local custom and if an answer isn’t readily available, go for four. Flirt coyly and never forget to remind them of the legendary stamina professional cyclists possess. The ban on fraternization between riders and podium girls is weak willed suggestion; like not filing the lawyer tabs off your new bicycle immediately upon acquisition. 3) Know how to spray champagne. There’s going to be bubbly and you’re either going to look like a composed, seasoned pro or a floundering amateur attempting to harness a fire-hose. Giving the podium girls an early shower always makes for a fantastic photo-op and opens the door to offering them a free change of clothes. In your hotel room later.

Tom is for the party und sometimes der Jan is selfish.

The solitary triumph of winning a bike race is one of the most exhilarating and fulfilling achievements in sport. Pitting oneself against the mental and physical limits of others and arriving first is the most intense form of self validation for the countless hours of sacrifice we endure. The sharpest pain is evacuated instantaneously, the most focused frustrations of life are suddenly washed away replaced with the warming clutch of ascendancy. It is a time for celebration and the acceptance of adulation, a time to indulge in that which we shun. Champagne tastes sweeter, flowers are more piquant and the cheers of adoring fans are louder. So bask in the radiant gleam of dominion and let the memory sear a permanent motivational recollection in your psyche. And seriously be careful around if you’re going to party with Hinault, the dude is intense.

il Sprint

Dedicated readers of Il Chat del Giorno will know that I have access to certain government agency “perks”. Unfortunately when living a life of unparalleled luxury and enviable frivolity you become a target to some individuals who wish to exploit you. Due to these unfortunate circumstances I’ve become familiar with wire tapping and the finer nuances of the trade. In a previous post I happened upon a taped conversation between the UCI and certain other political heads of state that proved to be somewhat compromising. In the wake of “Ferrari-gate” I have happened upon another such piece of auditory evidence only this time, it’s from microphones that captured the intra-peloton chatter leading up to the crash; apparently Mr. Murdoch has extended his Hoover’esque paranoia into the bikes of his riders as well. What follows is a transcript of the tapes.

The Man from the Isle of Man is Struggling

Cavendish: WHERE’S BERNIE?!!?
Eisel: Mark I’m here, I’m here!! I never leave your side!
Cavendish: Bernie you know I’ve got separation issues, I can’t do it again after losing Mark!
Renshaw: Mark I gave you heaps of notice I was leaving, I even introduced to you Eric Bana like you always wanted.
Cavendish: Oh… hey Mark, didn’t see you there. Yea you know whatever, I’m over it. Totally doesn’t bother me anymore. You know I’m dating Peta Todd right?
Pozzato: I have already had her.
Haedo: Hola guys is this where to be for a sprint finish? I must try for a victory so as to not have to have sit down meeting con Bjarne for 45 minutos. So much uncomfortable eye contacto… so mucho.
(Collective screams with a lot of “X”s in the speech)
Phinney: What was that?? I had Velobeats on full blast in my ear piece.
Hushovd: Euskatel just realized they were too far forward in the sprint, they all stopped pedaling to avoid crashing.
Goss: Oy oy mates, bit of a sprinty we’ve got on our hands eh? Reckon it’ll speed up a bit? We’re having a party after the stage today, full barbie, free zinc lotion and all. You boys ever seen the film “Chopper”??
Emanuele Sella: Ciao tutti! Bravi to everyone for to be here in the final sprint, I’d like to take this time to talk to you about one of our sponsors Sidermeca…
Vande Velde: Jesus, Savio has them running in-race sponsorships as well?
Farrar: At least it’s not for boosted cigarette cartons like the Katusha and Astana boys
Astana rider: What’s up bro you want Marlboro? Benson & Hedges? I got top quality product at good price bro, special for your because you’re pro.
Geraint Thomas: …anywho, that’s probably my second favorite recipe for Welsh Cakes but only because of the raisins.
Bennati: Cazzo!! There is no lead out for me! Johan tells me I have Frank for final lead out man whenever I am for to need it. I cannot use him though! Pero the look in Johan’s eyes… he tells me he knows where my children go to scuola…
Vacansoleil Rider: … so as long as no one actually SAYS “barbwire” out loud things are pretty mellow within the team.
Theo Bos: IT’S SPEEDING UP, IT’S SPEEDING UP!! 
Renshaw: Hands on the bars Theo just like we talked about mate.
Cavendish: Shite this is getting dodgy, I shoulda tossed these pastries earlier…
Ballan: Oh no…
Geraint Thomas: What?!?
Cunego: Porca putana! It is the sister of Ivan Basso!
Goss: No!
Renshaw: No!!
Phinney: No!!
Cavendish: Shit!
Roberto Ferrari: ELISA!!!!!!!!! VADO IOOOO!!!!!!
(Undecipherable noise and static, microphones cut out)

So there you have it. The allure of an Italian woman strikes again. Ivan Basso was unable to be reached for comment and no word yet on whether or not Elisa Basso even knows Roberto Ferrari. We can only hope the Giro organizers at least make sure she’s wearing pasties the next time she decides to show up in a sheer Versace fishnet tank top at a sprint finish.

Who needs massage?

il Giro d’Italia

It is May which means two things at Ragazzo Manor. It’s the month of my birth (I accept any and all gifts so long as they’re luxurious and tasteful) and, fittingly, it is the month of il Giro d’Italia. Il Giro marks the start of the year’s Grand Tours and it does so with the type of gusto and fervor only Italians can muster up. I could wax poetic about all the reasons I love il Giro but I fear we’d be approaching Dead Sea Scrolls territory so, for the sake of time, I’ll abridge things for everyone.

il Pink
It’s everywhere. The pink jersey, the pink banners, the pink cars, the pink underwear (trust me, they ALL wear pink in May). There’s pink espresso cups, pink pastries, pink tubulars, pink shrubs, worryingly one year I pissed pink from May 6th till the 30th… into a pink urinal. Like it’s Franco counterpart, the leader’s jersey of il Giro shares its color with the pages of its leading sports daily La Gazzetta dello Sport. Unlike le Tour, Giro pink jersey wearers take the rosé application to a completely different level. It’s as if a maglia rosa bunker buster has gone off in the team kit bag. Shoes, shoe covers, socks, bibs, jersey, gloves, helmet, glasses, frame, wheels, tape, tires, spokes, fingernails, eye lashes, saddles, water bottles, anything that is capable of being pink is and the race is better for it. Let us not forget the race takes place is the land of fashion, a place where mismatching one’s Prada scarf with their Gucci glasses is punishable by a year spent in Zara clothing. With so many manufacturers in the pro peloton being Italian the zeal with which custom items are produced is unrivaled. Il Giro is a chance for Italians to show off one of the things they do best, style. Walking around the start line before any stage is like lingering backstage at a Dolce & Gabbana show during fashion week. Beautifully tan people roam the grounds like exotic animals preening for one another during mating season. By the way D & G designed the leaders jerseys this year, I’m told it’s infused with their signature cologne in the collar. I’ve spoken to riders who have literally built their entire season around the possibility of pinking out for just a single day, such is the draw of la maglia rosa.

Real men wear pink

i Tifosi
Italian fans are unrivaled. Yes Belgium is arguably the center of cycling mad spectators but they view cyclists more like racehorses, ominously searching for physical clues hidden in riders’ muscle definition and fat reservoirs that will aid in their betting line. Cycling tifosi don’t just watch professional racing, they live it. They are ardent consumers of its rich history and they NEVER forget a champion. Laurent Fignon lamented his countrymen turning their backs on him during his career struggles yet lauded the respect and reverence Italian fans always hoisted upon him. Italian fans love il Giro and they love the riders that compete in it even more. Throughout the 94 editions of the race Italian riders have worn pink on the final podium 66 times. Belgium comes in second with 7. Five of those belong to Eddy Merckx. It’s an Italian race that brings out the absolute best in Italian riders and the fans thrive on this. Sports has always unified Italy and had il Giro and the World Cup existed pre 17th century methinks unification would have been sped up considerably. The veneration i tifosi have for the riders is plain to see. Grown men beam like school children in the presence of champions and you’ll never see as much “fan assistance” up steep slopes for trailing riders than you see at il Giro. Watching cyclists stop mid-race in their hometowns for a glass of spumante, a local delicacy and a borderline dangerous amount of cheek kissing/pinching will bring a smile to even the hardest man’s face. Contestants in il Giro needn’t worry about much as i tifosi are always keen to offer beverages, snacks, newspapers, fist pumps and the infamous word of encouragement “dai!”.

Il Route
Every year the route for il Giro changes and every year it seems the organizers attempt to out-crazy the previous edition. Outrageously long transfers, unpaved roads, descents requiring special safety netting, it’s like the Italian version of The Hunger Games.

Organizer 1: Daccordo, so we first start with a 6k prologue through the sand dunes of Dakar then make our way back through the Dolomites descending from helicopter.
Organizer 2: Si va bene, ma what about a mountain finish atop Mt. Kilimanjaro? If we are to be in Africa already then I am feeling this to be a beautiful spectacle.
Organizer 1: No, while challenging and invigorating we must return to Italy to showcase our beautiful country, plus don’t forget we have the special velodrome we constructed within the crater of Mt. Vesuvius they will ride.
Organizer 2: Si certo, I forgot.
Organizer 1: I forgive you. Now, let’s map out the final circuit race through the underground ruins of il Colosseo…

Anche ci’sono… Le Ragazze
It’s no secret Italy is home to some of the most beautiful women in the world and il Giro attracts them like Virenque to the newest edition of “Chicken Soup for the Emotional Soul”. Giro podium girls look just as gorgeous on display atop the celebration platform as they do doused in champagne. The race organizers have even taken a page out of Moto GP’s book placing “grid girls” with the race leaders providing a litany of priceless photo ops. After shelling yourself for the better part of 5 hours climbing over 3500 meters in the process, getting kissed by two belle ragazze makes victory ever so sweet. Besides when else do men who weigh less than super models get the chance to take them home?

I love cheeks

The Giro is a Grand Tour that is unmistakably Italian. It stirs fierce allegiance in the hearts and minds of its followers and always promises to deliver drama and excitement from start to finish. Any race where Mario Cipollini holds the most overall stage victories is 100% guaranteed to be a sexy and alluring spectacle. That’s fully supported and proven by science at the Mapei center. Sophia Lauren was there to corroborate the evidence. It is a race of attrition and national pride demanding the maximum effort of its participants. It is a race with its eyes always looking forward to the future but never forgetting to remember the champions and fallen heroes of the past. So brush up on your Italian, grab an Esta Thè and prepare for a glorious month of competition and circus. E non può mai dimenticare i caduti. Sempre con noi.

il Short

I am currently in Portugal and whilst enjoying a bica and pastel de nata my assistant Valentino informed me of a video I must watch that was posted by the always insightful and thorough The Inner Ring.

Valentino: Sr. Ragazzo, there is a video, a beautiful video you must watch.
Me: Valentino please don’t make me watch the video of my birth again.
Valentino: No, no, a different video, a video for to inspire and for to remember. C’e il Pirata.
Me: Cue the IMAX room.

It’s one of my heros Marco Pantani suffering a mechanical during the the 15th stage of the 1999 Giro d’Italia then proceeding to literally and figuratively dismantle the entirety of the peloton. I became inspired and found it impossible to not write something, albeit a short something, about it.

This video does more than just get me excited about bike racing. It defines what the sport is down to the most minute details. Pantani flats, he receives help from the neutral Shimano support vehicle. Looking resplendent in la maglia rossa he calmly rejoins the race met first by almost the entirety of his team. One by one they turn themselves inside out, forging ahead with complete dedication and loyalty to their captain. There’s the incredulous looks of his competitors as he deftly blows by them in his trademark off the saddle in the drops style. There’s the speed in upward ascension that only the 90′s could give us. There’s a Campagnolo clad Bianchi being ridden to victory. There’s the fanatacism that only the tifosi can foster. There’s the sinking feeling of the inevitable and inescapable demise inherent to the predator/prey relationship. There’s that bald head. There’s Fiat’s. There are no helmets. There are attacks that are both violent and ferocious in their dedication. There is the singular and undocked display of an athlete who is above all other competitors, a rider who has tapped into an inner fortitude absent in his adversaries. It is a form of cycling we don’t see as much today which is a shame. Regardless of the scandals that tinted his life on and off the bike Marco Pantani was a member of an elite club of cyclists. A rider that could turn a race on its head at a moments notice. A rider who tackled races with passion and ferociousness. A rider whose mental endurance sadly didn’t follow him off the bike. Grazie Marco per tutto, sei sempre nei nostri cuori.

Marco does it in the drops

il Nuovo Kit

Well ragazzi, it’s been awhile. For this I say mi dispiace, but please allow me to explain my recent absentia. The holidays are always a busy time for me, there’s extremely exclusive White Bengal Tiger exchange parties, the 2012 Super Model Draft, clandestine G8 geo-political subterranean bunker meetings and of course The Bachelor is back on TV. In order to wind down a bit from the hullabaloo I retreated to my favorite little secluded getaway, Chillon Castle in Switzerland. I holed up for the better part of a month with my personal chef Giorgio Locatelli, my personal trainer Dr. Ferrari, my personal stylist Valentino, my personal entertainer Martin Scorsese and my personal masseur Bar Refaeli. It was a inspiring and recharging sabbatical that saw me leave well fed, inspired, relaxed and feeling more sanguinely efficient than I’ve ever been. But the 2012 racing calendar is upon us and it’s back to business as usual and where better to start than le nuove maglie!

Valentino: Pasquale, hai visto le nuove maglie?
Pasquale: Valentino, I’ve been up to my eyes in the new fabric patterns you suggested for the divano in the lounge how can I have time for the new kits?!? Wait… is it time already?
Valentino: Si, si certo, guarda! The magazine has the photos.
Pasquale: Valentino this is a sketch book filled with page after page of my visage atop famous sculptures…
Valentino: O dio, mi dispiace, non ti preocupare, I make mistake, this is the correct photo… hehe.

The beginning of any new race season brings big transfers, team camps in exotic locales, new sponsor equipment, awkward photo shoots and of course, new kits. As a consumer of fine fashion it is this presentation that catches my eye more than the other distractions and it is dissected and critiqued with the utmost attention to detail. As regular readers will know I’ve already waxed poetics on some of my preferred kit designs and key couture features that vault a team from the mundane to the revered. Taking that into mind lets jump into some of the highlights.

Quello Che Mi Piace

Katusha
What was one of my most hated kits of last year has given birth to something that is quite fetching. Russians and tasteful fashion go together about as well as Pat McQuaid and Socialism. Typically if it says Gucci somewhere, can withstand crude oil overspray as well as shield from pesky UN business ethics investigators then it’s en vogue. Yet Katusha have impressed here, turning their backs on the “blue revolution” the red stands as a stark contrast in an increasingly monotonous looking peloton. It’s not overly complicated and I especially like the horizontal lined border on the bottom of the jersey. Good marks for resisting all that is hammer and sickle in their design here.

Premium top class fashion design nyet?

Omega-Pharma Quickstep
Disclaimer: I am a sucker for baby blue. There is something about the color that immediately agitates my sensations with almost the same intensity and vigor as a Celeste colored bra on the floor of my penthouse flat. With that said, I can forgive OPQS for hopping on the blue wagon (a Skoda wagon obviously). Where I would normally always push for white bibs, the black they’ve chosen isn’t entirely awful in combination with the jerseys. The only down side (other than leaving Merckx/Campagnolo for Specialized/SRAM) is that the new color choice does little to shake the similarities between Leipheimer and Dreamworks’ “Megamind”.

America's Levi Leipheimer

Metrocity's #1 Villain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lampre ISD
Rarely has this team upset me in a fashion sense. They’ve taken the Rabobank “If it aint broke don’t fix it” adage and mixed in a pinch of Brunello and a dash of la bella moda. The pink is aggressive and the blue is anything but subtle yet the staunch dedication to the colorway is decidedly Italian. It’s a bit like Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” video. Yes the Jaguar’s are dated, yes the hairstyle of David Coverdale is structurally unsound but to this day there is little in this world that would stop me from watching Tawny Kitaen writhing around on the bonnet of a speeding vehicle with power chords in the background. Extra points for the quasi homo-erotic Euro frivolity in this photo as well.

For to make stronger sensations for the ladies

Quello Che Non Mi Piace

Sky
The accuracy with which this photo depicts the Sky team is almost scary. There’s Bradley Wiggins donning his perennially moody Liam Gallagher mug, Cavendish looking resplendently stout in a disappointing World Championship kit and Luke Rowe as happy as a pig in shit to be surrounded by his fellow Brits. It would also appear that Team Sky held their winter training camp in Reykjavik. The sun isn’t your enemy boys, ask Fillippo Pozzato. The kit has changed little from last year and in all honesty it’s not all ugly, the lack of panache exhibited by its riders deserves chiding though.

When do we get the tea & cakes?

Lotto-Belisol
I’m mildly hesitant in saying bad things about this kit because there’s a 79% chance André Greipel will find me and Hulk-smash me into obscurity. When I first saw the livery I couldn’t quite explain why I didn’t like it then it hit me with the same obvious beauty of a well crafted Panerai… André light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.

Andre Greipel

Vanilla Ice

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Green Edge
I like Australians. They’re overwhelmingly friendly, notoriously easy-going and their use of the word “heaps” never gets old. This kit though, it’s as if Earth escaped the Captain Planet design consortium, went rogue and took a Learning Annex class on how to use Photo Shop. Movistar have already demonstrated that neon green is best left to Liquigas. The lack of cohesion in the design is a distraction unfortunately, yet, I’d still love to enjoy a macchiato with every single one of these guys.

Where's Wind and Water?

Nitpicking aside, this is shaping up to be one of the more interesting seasons on record. The concentration of so many dominating riders on fewer teams is bound to create drama and excitement. I purposely left out BMC because when your team is stacked like the Yankees everyone is going to hate your kits anyways, particularly when it’s the back of them that they see most. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a private jet to catch, Clooney hates when I’m late to his Lake Como pizza parties.

Why I love il Campagnolo

While constructing a flawless cappuccino with my carbon fiber and diamond inlayed La Marzocco Strada MP machine the other morning my assistant Giovanni informed me I had a call on hold in the salon. After a brief yet vigorous chastising for bothering me with business before coffee I took the call and was pleased to hear the voice of none other than Valentino Campagnolo.

Valentino: Pasquale, sono io Valentino, how is everything? Are you alright?
Me: Valentino! So good to hear from you, yes, yes everything is fine I was just about to enjoy a cappuccino when you called.
Valentino: Pasquale it is 4 in the afternoon.
Me: 8 hour time difference Valentino
Valentino: Certo, I always forget. Listen I have notizie incredibile. Are you sitting down?
Me: Yes, in the Eames by Pininfarina Lounge Chair you gave me last Christmas actually.
Valentino: Ah si, una bella sedia to be sure. Pasquale…. the electric is ready.
Me: It is finally time?
Valentino: You will be receiving a gruppo shortly.
Me: Fedex?
Valentino: Swiss Guard
Me: Fantastico, a dopo amico.
Valentino: Ci parliamo dopo. Ciao, ciao, ciao.
Me: Ciao, ciao.
Valentino: Ciao… ciao, ciao.
Me: Ciao. Giovanni!! Fetch me my “Awaiting Parcel Robes”!!

The only name that matters

The announcement of the new Campagnolo EPS Super Record and Record gruppos marks the official declaration from the storied Italian marque into the future of cycling technology. Many pundits denounced the delay of Campagnolo’s late entry into the electric shifting realm having been soundly beaten to the punch by Shimano. Campagnolo actually started working on preliminary versions of an electric gruppo all the way back in 1992 with varying iterations popping up more frequently over the past 8 years. Still, it took more time than some would have liked for them to finally offer their wares to the masses and many are curious to see what Vicenza has that Osaka doesn’t.

The news of an electric gruppo from Campangolo is nothing new but it did start me to thinking and as usual when I start to thinking I start to drinking. Riserva Chianti Gallo Nero in particular and nothing younger than 10 years old generally coupled with a choice cut of filet mignon. I love Campagnolo, plain and simple. It is a passionate and loyal love but not without its frustrations and infidelities. Like any beautiful lover my pocketbook has arguably suffered the most but the feeling that she gives me is worth every penny, every bag of Top Ramen, every unpaid electrical bill, every sub prime loan I’ve taken out and this is why.

Performance
When I was a young bambino roaming around the local neighborhood chasing girls and taking espresso breaks in between nap time I happened upon a profound realization: there is always the right tool for the job. Recess to a 7 year old is the Pacific Theater in WWII, nothing else matters and you fight to the death to maximize every single second you have in that gloriously raucous controlled chaos. To that end one’s choice of shoes was, undoubtedly, of paramount importance. Before my enlightenment I was toiling away in a pair of unforgettable Keds thinking I was taking full advantage of the consistent battle that was play time. Then… then I received a pair of Andre Agassi Signature Nike Sneakers and my entire world was flipped upside down. I was no longer peppering Japanese Zero Fighter Planes with an M1 rifle, I was manning the .50 Cal gun turrets on the USS Iowa. When I made the jump from Shimano Dura-Ace to Campagnolo Record 10 speed there was a similar moment of awakening. Shimano make a quality product, that point cannot be argued, but Campagnolo do it with more panache and artistry. Shimano is like sealing a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino with a screw top. Yes the wine will keep and age properly free of contaminants but where is the passion? Where is the artistry? The process of peeling back a layer of hand dipped wax and piercing the cork stopper with the business end of a corkscrew remind you that you aren’t merely quenching a thirst but satiating a desire. Similarly Sram Red is analogous to attempting to shove a straw into the predestined hole of a grape flavored Capri Sun. The feel and tactile feedback of Campagnolo marries man and machine poetically executing shifts with precision and zeal. If Campagnolo is a Ferrari than Shimano is a Toyota Camry, both vehicles get you from point A to B but which one raises the hair on your neck? Which one would you rather take to a track day at Laguna Seca? Which one offers you matching luggage?

Design
I love beautiful things. Beautiful women, beautiful cars, beautiful homes, beautiful panoramas, beautiful watches, beautiful clothes, the list goes on. It is no coincidence that the word Italians revert to 9 times out of 10 to describe something they enjoy is not “cool” or “awesome” or “sick” but bella. Beautiful. As the cliché goes life is beautiful ergo why not enjoy all the beauty it has to offer? Campagnolo understand this and it is reflected wholeheartedly in the pieces they produce. The lines of the 11 speed Ergo shifters exude a confident sensuality not found in other gruppos. Dauntless curves serve to entice the eyes and cradle the hands like a loving embrace. Aesthetics and ergonomics rarely share a romantic relationship yet looking at a Campagnolo rear derailleur lets you know the two aren’t just texting each other about the weather. The lustful intentions Campagnolo illicit are no accident. Of course form follows function but why follow it down a tope hallway into a drab bedroom with two single beds and a window with a view of a paper clip factory? Italy is the land of style and the craftsmen in Vicenza haven’t forgotten that. This is one of the key factors of Campagnolo fanaticism. The parts are sexy, they are intriguing, they look just as at home on a Colnago as they would in the pages of Vogue. A Campagnolo gruppo does to a high end bike frame what Ferragamo shoes, a Zegna tie and Cartier cuff links do to a Versace suit, distinguish it. It vaults something already beautiful and impressive into a different category, the kind of category that elicits curiosity from children, reverence from women and a tip of the hat from those in the know.

Flaws
Those that dislike Campagnolo make no secret about it and are often quick to point out exactly why it is an inferior choice. Many times a legitimate rebuttal to their proclamations cannot be found and this is precisely why I love Campagnolo even more. Campagnolo are the purveyors of some of the most technically advanced bicycle technology in the world, yet they still have one foot (most likely shrouded in a Prada cashmere sock) firmly in old world European traditions. The issues that bother Shimano and Sram devotees only serve to engrain my loyalty further in the company. I hear ad nauseum about how Campagnolo is too expensive and not worth it, yet often times this is coming from someone atop a bike frame that is well north of $4000 with wheels worth more than most people’s rent. When 11 speed was introduced the only way to install or remove the chain was with a proprietary $300 tool only offered by Campagnolo. Critics, mechanics and pundits alike were furious at having to shell out that much coin and essentially nullifying their current chain breaking tools yet I just grew more enamored. Of course it’s annoying to not be able to use a normal tool to fix the chain but this is just another example of Campagnolo’s unwavering dedication to perfection. They took the time to completely overhaul the new chain so why not provide a tool that perfectly suits this new piece of technology? Many complain Campagnolo are too slow to react to market trends taking their time to debut new products and getting leap frogged by others in the process. I say that it’s merely a product of experience. Campagnolo takes its time, toiling away in the factory and test labs ensuring that when they eventually do release something new it is as close to flawless as can be. There’s no point in rushing out a sub-standard product just to satiate market fads and fluctuations.

Even the Pope rides it

Campagnolo has amassed a loyal and passionate following in its near 80 year history. They lay claim to 28 Tour de France victories and will forever be synonymous with bicycle racing at the highest level. Choosing to ride Campagnolo grants you entry into an elite club of gentlemen. A club that appreciates beauty, precision and design. A club that finds as much pleasure in a perfectly designed derailleur as it does in a perfectly aged Scotch. A club rich in both history and tradition. A club that that may take awhile for you to find but once you do, you’re a member for life.

 

il Quiz del Giorno

This is a first in il Chat history and depending on the amount of fiery hate mail I receive possibly the last. While sneaking out of a female companion’s penthouse the other day in the south of France who shall remain nameless (hint: her name rhymes with Bar Refaeli) I slipped on what I thought was a strategically placed patch of black ice. Remembering that I was indeed in the Cote d’Azur I investigated further to find the glossy pages of an issue of Cosmopolitan Magazine staring back at me from the floor.

Me: What is this?
Bar: A magazine I’m on the cover of… where were you going?
Me: Nevermind where I was going I’m taking this.
Bar: Are you taking my heart with you?
Me: Shhh….

This is a real magazine

Nestled amongst the proclamations of “10 Beauty Secrets Sitting in Your Fridge” and “We Test the New Dirty Dishwater Cleanse!” there was an advert for a quiz. This quiz promised to inform you as to which kind of lover you are simply by answering a few questions presumably developed and tested by a collective of scientists specializing in the field of coital deciphering. Upon taking and completing the quiz I became inspired (Editor’s Note: I am a voracious and complete lover who finds inspiration in passion and relishes the opportunity to share real feelings. Ladies consider yourselves warned.) That being said what follows below is the Il Chat del Giorno “Which Pro Rider Are You?” Quiz Extravaganza. Simply answer the questions presented to you recording your answers for analyzation upon finishing. Use of #2 pencils is encouraged and remember there is no incorrect answer, just stupid questions.

1. Finding yourself in a breakaway of 6 riders, 2 of whom are world class sprinters, with 5 km to go and a climb averaging 5.5% 2 km from the finish, do you:
a) Crush the last of your water, violently throw the empty bidon into an unsuspecting fan group and proceed to turn yourself inside out in hopes of a legendary victory all while cursing race directors for their stupidity.
b) Bide time until a group sprint whereupon you time the leadout to perfection, cross the finish line first looking resplendent and tan then get both podium girls phone numbers for later.
c) Lament the situation you find yourself in, consider retirement, bawl for the remaining 5 km then give an overly emotional press conference saying how you tried your best.
d) Proceed to turn out 870 watts for the duration of the race foiling the sprinters and soloing in for a dominant victory. Also your hair looks fantastic.

2. Transfer season is upon you. You are forced to decide whether to stay at your current team who supported you since you were a neo-pro or jump to a bigger team with higher salary and more pressures, do you:
a) Curse your agent for bothering you with unimportant questions in the off season and interrupting your training. Then later call him back and ensure that plucky young American will be eradicated from your squad.
b) Go for more cash drafting a kit clause in the new contract stipulating you have full reign to design your own TT skin suits in Grand Tours.
c) Take the bigger contract then when local media lambast you for your lack of loyalty hold a teary press conference apologizing to the masses.
d) Switch to the bigger team not for more money but because the bikes on your current team keep breaking under your immense power output.

3. You are designated team leader yet a teammate of yours is in a better position to possibly win, do you:
a) Create an internal mutiny requiring allegiance from other teammates of similar national origin sabotaging the underling privately whilst publicly lauding his chances.
b) Sleep with the teammate’s girlfriend
c) Accuse the younger teammate of pharmaceutical enhancement in a teary press conference.
d) Secure in your talents, do all you can to help the younger teammate including “learning” him to TT more efficiently.

4. You have a big race in two days but are being lured into going out for a night on the town by friends, do you:
a) Physically assault your “friends” for their irrational requests and poor influence getting the proper sleep and training required to be prepared to inflict damage on all rivals.
b) Go out with friends waking up the morning of the race to your race director knocking on the door of an unknown female companion whose bed you are currently sharing.
c) Spend a night at home crying in the shower with your clothes on over the difficulty of making a decision.
d) Inform your friends that time simply won’t allow such frivolity in the most neutral way possible then settle in for a night of deep hair conditioning.

5. Your team sponsors have come up with a cycling kit that is universally despised by the team. Owing to your position of influence fellow riders look to you to inform the top brass of their mistake, do you:
a) Slap all your teammates for their insolence in what you interpret as a “labor strike” informing them that the jersey isn’t what wins races but the ferocious spirit and endless attacking.
b) Assure your teammates they have nothing to worry about since you already had Dolce and Gabbana design a secondary kit for just such a situation.
c) Buckle under the pressure of your teammates requests breaking down at the team service course into a teary heap of disappointment.
d) Take everyone’s concerns one at a time while adopting a neutral stance on the matter then produce a proposal to the team informing all of the concerns of the riders. Then ride 40K alone in under 30 minutes.

Please tally your answers and find out which professional rider you are below!

3-5 “A” answers
Bernard Hinault – You are a fierce competitor who can’t be bothered with the bureaucracy of the sport. Attacking within a race is second nature. You are a traditionalist who sees anyone that stands between you and victory as a personal enemy. Your French attitude is palpable and you have a seemingly irrational hatred for labor strikers. You anger easily.

Le Badger in a rare scene of self contemplation

3-5 “B” answers
Mario Cipollini- You are a flamboyant and polarizing figure who takes just as much pleasure from Victoria’s Secret models as you do from race victories. The finer things in life are not to be ignored and neither is your raw talent. Victory is nothing if not done in style. You have an incredible tan and an award winning smile.

The ladies are struggling

3-5 “C” answers
Richard Virenque – You are an overly emotional mess. You lay claim to ample amounts of natural talent but are too internally unstable to realize any of your true potential. You appeal to house-wives the world over as they see your weepy outbursts as “humanizing”. You own too much hair bleach and will throw friends under the bus.

He is le sad

3-5 “D” answers
Fabian Cancellara – You are a methodical and dominant rider that breaks the competitors around you with outrageous displays of physical prowess. You are a loyal teammate, enjoy being surrounded by formidable natural borders and can hold impossibly high sustained power outputs. You have a Tissot tattoo and an incredible head of hair.

You're welcome

I hope this quiz has been both informative and entertaining. Stay tuned for next week’s installment where I tell you about 5 products sitting in your medicine cabinet that will increase your climbing speed by 20%!
(Special thanks to Bad Fish Good Fish for photo help)