Pinstripes have been on my mind lately. What with Wolf of Wall Street and the return of American Psycho to Netflix streaming, the quintessential Wall Street style seems ripe for revival. (Caveat: chalk stripes, not pinstripes, are more prominent on Leo DiCaprio in Wolf.) If the New York Times is ON IT reporting that bankers of today eschew pinstripes and strong shoulders, you know paradigm usurpers are wearing exactly that.
The designers at Trek Factory Racing (a.k.a. Trek-Fabs) probably don’t have a wet finger in the wind of directional fashion, but they serendipitously chose the pinstripe as motif of the inaugural team kit, which, says team PR, "reflects the promise of cycling’s future while paying homage to the sport’s culture." ORLY? Pinstripes bring to my mind Wall Street assholes and Al Capone, whose final court appearance was in a double-breasted navy pinstripe suit. I suppose EPO-era mythology that Trek helped to build up fits somewhere between robber baron bankers and Prohibition era public enemy number one? While I DIE at the thought of Fabs at team camp doing his version of the Gordon Gekko "Greed is Good" speech or the Al Capone baseball speech from The Untouchables (spoiler alert: the Schlecks should wear helmets to that team meeting, just in case), I just don’t believe pinstripes reflect the promise of cycling’s future. Neither is signing both Schleck brothers or Yaroslav Popovych in 2014, by the way.
Please play in your mind the “Previously on Mad Men…” voice saying “Previously on Tour of Utah…” Then, string together a montage of all the stuff you liked from the race. Edit them with zero narrative coherence like those Previously-on-Mad-Mens. Make it good. We’re Previously-on-Tour-of-Utahing the series finale, Stage 7. Yes, I know Tour of Utah only had six stages.
Can Chris Froome grow a respectable mustache? That’s a question yet to be asked in the glut of cycling media post-Tour ruminations. While sparks flew on the cols and cross-wind flats, a war amongst the Tour mustaches went relatively unnoticed. Even within the greater facial hair narrative, Peter Sagan’s green goatee—facial hair equivalent of an attention-seeking wheelie—is all we have after the last of the revelers left the Champs Elysees.
France wouldn’t like it if I called one of her national cycling heroes a serial exhibitionist, but has Thomas Voeckler ever not, to use a cycling cliche, turned himself inside out? If he could bleed from every orifice and spew his innards to prove he’s martyring himself for a win he would. Voeckler is cycling’s porn star. (Sorry, Cipo!) He rides with his stilted, self-conscious theatrics to climax, whether that is winning or, even better, tragically getting caught before the line.
Best thing about winning the Giro is winning the Giro. Surely, someone somewhere will hook you up with free coffee or doughnuts for winning the hardest and best Grand Tour on the calendar. During the Tour, Ryder Hesjedal tested how far this “I won the Giro, let’s do this” business can fly with DID sunglasses made by POC. In fashion parlance, these sunglasses would be “directional”: more ironic hepster face decoration than typical athletic eyewear, its introduction into the market would begin with backlash, then garner reluctant mass market acceptance and saturation.
Is it even possible to hate anything more than doping in pro cycling? Yes, it is: POLKA DOT SHORTS. Tour de France 2013 suffered a below-the-waist smallpox pandemic like no other year. While Mikel Nieve and Christophe Riblon each had their moment in dotted bibs, Pierre Rolland received the brunt of cycling fandom’s near-unanimous hatred.
Am I not normal? No one wanted to sit to either side of me at the Tyler Hamilton Q&A presented by Mike’s Bikes. Even though they let a noisomely persistent woman ask three questions, I was never picked to ask mine. While the Q&A struggled to remember the new PED, I shouted like a Family Feud contestant: “GW501516!” When that persistent woman—who boasted she had great questions—asked Hamilton why he doped again after his first suspension, I looked around to see if anyone else rolled their eyes. Come on, we all know the DHEA positive was from an herbal antidepressant, not a PED per se, right? By “we” I usually mean cycling fans, but now I know “we” aren’t just cycling fans.