The Germans are onto something. They call a bike a “rad”. From a linguistic standpoint, that is the most accurate name for a bike in any language. They call Cycling “riding rad”. I’m not even making that up. Radfahren. When they put it in a sentence, it translates roughly to “I’m practicing being rad.” I accept the possibility that I have the nuances of the translation off a tad because I don’t speak German, but I am pretty sure it’s directionally correct.

Rudy Pevenage wasn’t German, he was Belgian. I like most Belgians, but Jan Ullrich should have chosen a different coach and mentor because as it turns out, Rudy was a back-stabbing, turncoat, Judas motherfucker. And he looked like a blowup doll. Never trust anyone who looks like a blowup doll.

I think it’s fair to say Germans aren’t known as being an overly sympathetic people. When Jan Ullrich shat the bed by getting caught up in Operación Puerto and again later when Rudy took the liberty to confess on Jan’s behalf, it broke hearts around the world, mine included. But just like every other time we’ve had our hearts broken, we blew through a few meaningless flings, settled down, and got over it. Not Germany. Germany Sharpied “Cheating Bastard” on Cycling’s forehead, threw all its belongings on the front lawn, and set that shit on fire. No more National Tour, no more television coverage of any race happening anywhere.

It must have been tough to be an aspiring Cyclist in Germany during this time; I imagine that confessing your dreams of becoming a Pro to an anxious parent trying to get you to focus on school instead was the sort of proclamation that sucked the air right out of the room. I shudder to think that it may well have resulted in more than a few hacksaws being taken to a bicycle frame by a desperate father.

I have it on the excellent authority of the man down the pub that Cycling is undergoing some kind of rejuvenation in Germany. And if you haven’t watched Clean Spirit, might I suggest you stop reading Velominati and go watch it. And then come back and commence reading Velominati. John Degencobble and Marcel Kittel are two funny bastids with the kind of unhealthy love for the bike that makes it impossible not to like them. And it gives you hope that there are at least two fellows in the men’s peloton who are trying to take racing clean seriously.

There are numerous Germans riding the Pro circuit today that are fun to watch race. I’m glad Zee Germans are coming; if the only emotion they seem to wear on their sleeve is their zaney love for suffering, then that’s a good one to settle on.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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  • @fignons barber

    But the german word for ride is “fahrt”. Kinda loses something when you tell someone you’re ” going for a fahrt”, non? The French have cycling words locked down.

    And most things said in French sound fantastic. German always seems to sound like "show me your papers."

  • Was really wonderful racing times when Ullrich would be mashing a huge gear and Lance spinning up the mountains in July.

  • @frank I can't imagine that Morten Okbo is your average man in the pub or that you'd end up in an average pub on a night out with him.

  • @Chipomarc

    Was really wonderful racing times when Ullrich would be mashing a huge gear and Lance spinning up the mountains in July.

    Earrings, goatees, velcro, peroxide, bandannas & EPO.  Those were the days alright.

  • @PT

    @Chipomarc

    Was really wonderful racing times when Ullrich would be mashing a huge gear and Lance spinning up the mountains in July.

    Earrings, goatees, velcro, peroxide, bandannas & EPO. Those were the days alright.

    I see what you did there, Sarcasm. Nice!

  • @chris

    @frank

    @1860, @Touriste-Routier

    You guys both realize I don’t give two flying fucks, right?

    You two must be German to miss the fun in something and point out linguistic and grammatical inaccuracies.

    In fact I have spent such a long time closely observing the Germans that I have broken their code, and am here to share it with all of you whether you like it or not.

     

  • Jan Ullrich should have chosen a different coach and mentor because as it turns out, Rudy ........... looked like a blowup doll. Never trust anyone who looks like a blowup doll.

    Probably also explains Jan's winter profile.

    Has anyone found that place in the middle of Germany called Ausfahrt?  I keep seeing it on exit signs but can never find the darned place on the map.

  • @Gianni

     

    And Rudy, holy shit, how do you get your face that fat? Inflated to 8 bars.

    No wonder Ulli couldn't keep his shit together in winter. Sitting at the table, across from that guy...you'll always feel like you're on the right side of skinny!

    @PT

    Typo in the title Frank; I think you’ll find its Zee Chermans, not Zee Germans.

    For a pronounciation reference, try Turkish in Snatch.

    “Wot do you need a gun for Tommy? In case Zee Chermans arrive?”

    Or something…..

    That scene is exactly what I was channeling. Nicely done!

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