[creekster]

You have to love the French.

So a Frenchman won today’s stage. Congratulations. He beat a rookie American, barely, in a sprint finish after a long breakaway. Moreover, a Frenchman also wears yellow tonight with a lead of around 1:45. I am sure the French cycling world is so excited it can barely drink its gassy water. Today’s double French victory was not easy. It took training, strategy, and race administrators willing to bar many of the world’s best riders because other riders that used to be on their team, which was then managed by a different director, were caught doping in a different year. Of course, all of the French failures in the tour are due to cheats. Look what the stage winner said today:

“It’s a great day for France,” said Dumoulin. “We’re not as bad as they say. We know how to train. There are other reasons why we don’t do so well for reasons that I don’t want to say. People said at the beginning of this Tour that it’s a Tour for people who take chances. That’s exactly what I did today. The French riders deserve a win in the Tour. It’s great news for this generation of French riders.”

Yes, they DESERVE a win because they were unable to win for reasons HE CAN’T SAY (wink wink, nudge nudge, cough, drugs, cough). They better win, when 2 of the last three podium finishers are watching from home (neither of whom has ever tested positive) and one of the best sprinters was excluded for cocaine use in an out of competition test.

Even with all these ‘reasons’ eliminated, the French still offer up little more than baseless hope for an overall victory in Paris. Who will rise to the occasion? Perhaps aging Christophe Moreau acting as though he is Le Patron but doing so from his accustomed place in the middle of the peloton and the back of the standings, or Tommy Vockler, jersey open, tongue hanging from his mouth, on one more desperate but doomed break away, wearing the climbers jersey proudly, when the tour has been nowhere but Bretagne for three days (mountains in Bretagne? Who are they kidding?), or a couple of pint-sized domestiques who suck an American’s wheel all day and then have the nerve to accuse all prior non-French winners as cheats? Unlikely. Once again, the most likely result is another foreigner. Perhaps the prickly Cadel Evans? Maybe an Italian? Or, horror of horrors, a Spaniard like Valverde? Any of these are more likely than the French. Quel Dommage.