THE CRIT (as told from the perspective of someone with severe ADD): So cycling is funny in that you can have a good race personally and still have a totally shit race as a team. As most people know, I'm not exactly the best crit racer on the planet. Take last year for instance -- I got to race this same crit course on two occasions, and did so poorly that I managed to build up my own anti-fan base. Remember my "go number 38!" heckler? Yeah, so do I -- I saw those guys this year by the way, and I was happy to go up to them and say "I did a lot better this time guys, wouldn't you say?" -- I saw the front of the race for crying out loud, and late in the race no less, but I got up there a little too late because by then Fly V had already folded and the breakaway was well on its way to lapping the field and Real Cyclist was chasing but there were only like two of them working and I tried to help but didn't really pace it right and blew up after helping out for only a few laps -- but I was up there goddamit, and I raced with much bigger balls than I normally do -- but the point is it didn't matter! Carlos won the sprint, but because we let that group up the road, he finished sixth. He's the best goddam sprinter in the field, and he won the sprint, but still lost his jersey and placed outside the top five, which is bullshit and also our fault. DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!
THE CIRCUIT RACE (as told from the perspective of a pirate):
CURSES! If there's one thing a good captain knows, its how to talk to his crew after a sound drubbing -- and after last night's criterium, talk to us our captain did. We skulked back to our cabins, broken and battered, with the bitter taste of Posideon's trident still on our lips, an' took the tongue lashing we knew we'd earned.
"You miserable sea dogs -- I ought to drown you myself!" he bellowed, "you call that a fight? Were but I suited up for battle, I'd show ya how it's done myself, but since you're the ones with the blades sharpened for battle, YOU'RE THE ONES WHO MUST RIGHT YOUR WRONG! TOMORROW BOYS, LET'S LET LOOSE WITH OUR CANNONS, AND LET FLY WITH OUR MUSKETS, AND LET SLICE WITH OUR SABERS, UNTIL THE WHOLE OCEAN HEARS THE CATERWAUL! THOUGH WE MIGHT HAVE TO FIGHT TO THE LAST MAN, LET ALL WHO SAW BATTLE THAT DAY REMEMBER: TEAM EXERGY PICKED THIS FIGHT."And pick that fight we did. Our guns did blaze, and our steel did shine. Each man too his turn carrying the sword until he could no longer, and after it was dropped, the man behind him picked up and marched on. After the smoke was cleared and the blood caked dry, Carlos lay one tantalizing point outside his goal: the Green Tunic. The bodies of his shipmates were scattered across the course like leaves in Fall. Our assault fell short, but we did our captain proud -- some say the whole ocean heard the caterwaul.
THE AFTER PARTY (as told from the perspective of a youngster on the Trek Livestrong or the Garmin development team):
Our two teams have a bunch of guys who don't have fake ID's yet, so we decided to party at Ian's house. Our after party was TOTALLY AWESOME: we built a fire in the back yard, and sat around in the dark telling ghost stories. We had tons of Smirnoff Ice, which was TOTALLY AWESOME! Then Team Exergy showed up (apparently the bars in Bend don't throw as TOTALLY AWESOME parties as we do...plus they close at 11PM). They brought this gross beer with them (Sierra Nevada something or other) which was lame, but they also brought GIRLS which was -- you guessed it: TOTALLY AWESOME! Girls AND Smirnoff Ice? I was in awesome heaven. They decided to leave after a few minutes -- apparently off to another bar that was rumored to be open later, but when they took off, they left the beer AND the girls! HOW TOTALLY AWESOME!