2013 was The Year of the Anti-V. In every other year, the Velominati Cogclave to decide the V and The Anit-V awards is full of curses and thrown pint glasses, usually in defense of each of our chosen V-Moments. 2013 saw the same scene, except this time it was for us having too many competing Anti-V Moments and when it came time to discuss the V-Moment, we sat around, staring at our cogs like we were first learning to shift gear.
Was there actually a V-Moment of the Year this time around?
It was a year that started strongly with The V. It flowed through the early season races, and as we made our way to the first Monument of Milan Sanremo, it unleashed its fury upon all those who dared start the race. The V can be an intangible thing, manifesting itself in other Rules as it did that day in the form of Rule #9.
As The V is wont to do on some occasions, however, its ferociousness drove back the intensity of the racing and the finale was almost anti-climactic to the scenes witnessed during the race. Then we were into the cobbled classics and again we were witness to the iron fist of The Nine, though this time in the form of cold but dry weather. Brett and Frank were there along with Pavé Cycling Classics and the Keeper’s Tour 2013 attendees to feel its awesome might first-hand. Cold cobblestones are less forgiving than warm ones, in the sense that the Emperor is less forgiving than Darth Vader.
The classics closed with excellent but forgettable racing in the Ardennes Classics, even if Dan Martin won a magnificent Liege. But then the season faltered; first with the Giro which was a complete snooze-fest, starting with Brad Wiggins guzzling a bottle of expired Anti-V before riding a slip-n-slide down a mountainside, then with Nibali riding so well we had not choice but to resent his dominance.
Then the Tour warm-up races passed under the radar as they normally do before Froome put us all to sleep at the Tour in the same manner Nibali did at the Giro. Both Nibali and Froome’s wins came at no fault of their own, but let me momentarily show some dirty Schlecky Love and state that both those brother better meditate extensively on the V and Nibali better show up fit at the Tour because the lap around France really needs some competition for the top step – I’m tired of resorting to watching the fight for second and third to try to find anything interesting.
A few mid-season races followed before what would have been an absolutely gripping Vuelta were it not for the fact that it was the Vuelta and only a handful of us even noticed that a 41-year-old American wound up winning. A Pacific-Northwestener, no less. That gives the good ol’ You Ess of Aye a win in every Grand Tour. But because of its unfortunate nature, no one gives two shits about the Vuelta – not even enough enough shits to garner the victor a contract for 2014.
Then the Worlds rolled around and the Anti-V was once again in full bloom. The Brits, whom you would think could ride in the rain, all fell off and called their mothers to bid them a good day before retiring to the team car. Then the Spanish had things dialed in before they all dropped the soap and let a Portuguese rider become the least-deserving World Champion since Ale Ballan.
I don’t want to sound too negative, but that’s a lot of Anti-V, right there. Loads of it.
In the final analysis, it comes down as usual to the Cobbled Classics. I was buying frites in the field by the Oude Kwaremont when I looked up and saw Boonen riding a wheelchair out of a hospital. Bugger that, I thought. Probably some sappy retrospective. Nope, Tom boned a fucking signpost and ruined his season. But then Fabs and Sags went shoulder to shoulder on the Paterberg, which was a pure, unadulterated showing of the V. Two men well versed in suffering and pain, drag-racing up a near-vertical cobbled lane. After the race, Fabian stated that he didn’t really attack Sagan; they had both gone full gas up the hill – he had just gone full gas for longer. That’s an “Instant Classic Hardman Quote” if I’ve ever heard one.
Then it was on to Roubaix the next week. Fabian crashed a few times in training, which is really embarrassing, especially if you’re Swiss and you know chicks are looking at you. The race itself saw an awesome fight, with Faboo off his best and the field knowing it. They took the fight to him, and he was outnumbered all the way. Omega-Pharma Quickstep entered the critical Carrefour de l’Arbre with two riders – Vandenbergh and Stybar – in the four-man group with Fabs and Sep Vanmarcke each to fend for themselves. Sadly, the drunken crowd accidentally intervened and knocked both OPQS riders out of contention.
From the Carrefour emerged two riders, and they fought it out in the famous Roubaix velodrome.
We are often witness to Cancellara laying down the V, but we are rarely witness to him laying on the ground after an effort. He was Off Form but On V that day; he raced with his mind and used it to get what he needed from his body. Into the Velodrome, he didn’t lead as is customary for him. He played cat-and-mouse like every other intelligent rider might. He waited. He even used the banking of the velodrome to his advantage.
He had an imperfect body that day, but he was more determined than any other rider to win. And, through a near-crippling application of the V, he prevailed against stronger riders who had the courage to take the fight directly to him. That, my fellow Velominati, was the V-Moment of the Year.
And, Coppi New Year to everyone.
The Runner-Up Moment: Fabs drops Sagan in a drag race up the Paterberg.
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View Comments
Most of it was spot on, couldn't have missed the mark further with Costa.
@ped
Scaler is going to be really confused by this photo.
Tony Martin, now that was a V-ride... is it too late to change my vote?
And I think Rui Costa is a deserving Rainbow Turd, that race was truly V-ful... can I change my vote?
This is why maybe @Teocalli has a valid suggestion, as it's fucking hard to remember everything that went on in the year.
Roubaix stands out to me because I was there... a massive V moment occurred half an hour or more after Fabs had won, we were walking back to the van along the cobbles of the Gruson secteur when a lone rider approached from behind, making his way to the velodrome though he probably knew he was outside the time limit. He was going to Roubaix, dammit, no matter what. No-one knew who he was, but Tom Stamsnijder was dripping in V that day.
What about Kerry McGarry? You'd be related to him by now wouldn't you Brett?
Two minutes well spent:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x76VEPXYaI0
So if you don't have to win to get V-moment, then how about Ritchie Porte, several of his rides as Froome's guard dog, getting shelled on Ventoux, riding back on, smashing it again, getting shelled, again, getting back on Again! T Martin, showed plenty at TDF, how bout the blood seeping through his skinsuit in his ITT win? He was so close in his solo effort he was in the top ten across the line.
For fuck sake, its a hard and dangerous fucking sport; we're not handing out awards any time someone fucking pushes themselves a little bit or does their fucking job.
We're talking about the Glory of the Fucking Five, in applied in crippling quantities. Tony is a hard man for sure, but the guy is laying on the ground every time he crosses a finish line, its just part of his process - he's like the little boy that cried wolf that way. Part of what stood apart for Sparty was the fact that he's a hard bastard himself and never displays that kind of wreckage where he can't support his own weight.
Sometimes I wish computers had a "glove slap" command I could issue.
@frank ( Major Payne voice )
You'll get no sympathy from me!
You want sympathy, look in the dictionary between shit and syphilis!
That's where you'll find my sympathy!
This ain't no walk in the park! Move it! Hustle, hustle!
Hey, Dumbo! You should be able to fly through those tubes...
with them big-ass ears, boy!
Yeah, Dumbo! Fly, baby, fly!
Hey, Williams! You tell Marlee Matlin's son...
if he don't get across that rope, I'm gonna hang him with it!
He'll hang you with it! Ha-ha-ha!
Heathcoat!
You get your fat body over that wall!
Take your fat, pork chop body over that
You
You shut up.
Nobody's leavin' here until the average for this squad...
is one minute, twenty seconds!
Come on, he can't do it! Leave him alone.
I can barely do it. It's slippery out here.
Slippery, he say!
You think Charlie care anything about slippery?
Only thing he knows is slit your throat.
What if this was a life or death situation?
But it's not a life or death situation.
It is now.
One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.
Come on, guys! What, are you crazy? It's just a dummy grenade.
Damn! Oh!
Honorable mention to Jens Voigt?
I concur wholeheartedly. What an incredible finish to P-R, even if my outside pick, Stybar, was beaten by the crowd!
Oh, and these arrived for the studio!