Categories: Nostalgia

Tricky Dickie: Shopping in the Five and Dime

We recently trod into territory we simultaneously avoid and willingly dive headlong into: doping and the intrinsic hypocrisy therein. While on the subject I figured the timing could never be worse to talk about one of my favorite riders: Tricky Dickie, the ponciest lad in the peloton.

On the bike, he was a simple man; there was never anything sophisticated or elegant about his style. During his thirteen years as a professional, he looked comfortable on a bike for about 17 minutes, and 14 of those minutes occurred off-camera. Like his contemporary and fellow King of the Mountains Claudio Chiappucci, he was a rider who stomped on the pedals like they were his mortal enemy, as if executing even a single Magnificent Stroke would somehow rid him of his powers and render him ineffective in his craft.

Despite a lifelong commitment to pedaling squares, he traded in a single currency, the Five and Dime: Laying down loads of Rule #5 with a wholesale commitment to Rule #10. Seven-times winner of the Dotty Jumper, he had this to say of riding in the mountains:

You have to be able to move sur la plaque [use the big ring] as soon as you’re at the top. I generally change gear 300m from the top. On a gentle climb, I sprint with my hands on the bottom of the bars, or I accelerate with my hands on the brake levers. I climb cols by feel and I don’t look at my heart meter.

I was in Holland in 1992 during the Tour, and was sitting in a bungalow in Hoenderloo watching the Tour on television. It was classic; a stage in the mountains held in a torrential downpour, with a breakaway. In the group was a rookie who, without looking good on the bike, somehow looked incredibly cool. His RMO jersey was soaked through and his cap was perched atop his head in precisely the right way. He rode in a pair of yellow Carnac shoes, and pushed the pedals in LeMond’s heels-down style, expressing with each stroke how hard he was working. I liked him immediately. Then he crossed the line – in tears – howling at the camera that he had Maillot Jaune.

Any rider who can lay down the Five and Dime like that and be man enough to cry like a schoolboy who misses his mama is all aces in my book.

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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frank says:

Oct 19 2010 at 10:03 pm

@michael

My wife worked with special needs kids in school and one of the more common terms they use is "MR" meaning mentally retarded. Maybe I'll just call him Mr. Virenque.

Well, that's what the rest of the world calls him. It will be our secret.
michael says:

Oct 19 2010 at 10:09 pm

That first photo doesn't seem to want to work, I'll see if I can't post it later, it was kind of cool.
KitCarson says:

Oct 20 2010 at 10:44 pm

@frank Surely he's violating any number of rules there, maybe just unspoken rules of good taste...that sure ain't a vintage wool Molteni trainer he's wearing and he's probably drinking white zin...the babe, though...uuummm...I'd take some of that...
Sam says:

Oct 21 2010 at 4:16 am

Was always suspicious of his moniker "French housewives' favourite"? What does that mean exactly?

Personally I'm with Michael (without the retard slur, doesn't help anyone that term) and Gianni, he was a French COTHO, and his tears in crossing the line in 1992 were similar to those he cried when busted in the Festina scandal that nearly ruined the sport.

Chiapucci was a giant compared to this little flog.
Hawkeye says:

Oct 24 2010 at 5:00 am

I can only assume she's a podium chick he picked up. There should be some sort of statistic on podium chick bike-pro rider hook ups. I reckon it'd be particularly high.

I liked Virenque on the bike too, but thought his ricockulous excuse-makery and blame-shiftery and general wasn't-me-itude around the Festina affair was an affront to everything that Rudyard Kipling, Cool Hand Luke, RP MacMurphy and my dad said or showed that it is to be a man.

In an argument that the French are nothing but a bunch effete whoopsies (to paraphrase Blackadder), one need only document Virenque behaving like the catboy that he was around that whole saga, and then rest their case. I hope that made sense.

No matter how much V you show on the bike, if you don't behave like a Man off it, what's the point?
scaler911 says:

Oct 17 2011 at 12:24 pm

Funny thing is he's not French. He's Moroccan.
scaler911 says:

Oct 17 2011 at 12:47 pm

@frank

@Marcus

I am not criticizing anyone either however I have an extremely strong objection to the use of "retard" as a pejorative term. Whilst swearing and many forms of vilification are right down my alley, using "retard" demeans (albeit usually unintenionally) anyone with special needs. I reckon Velominati should be better than that.

I think that's about the only line we'll draw - well said. Although I won't put myself above laughin like a schoolgirl when I read it.
Can I ask you this:
How can anyone not laugh themselves to tears reading the following exchange:\

What I'm far more disturbed by is Frank's collection of off-the-bike photos of Virenque.
...
Definitely a chick. Just a bad angle. Look in the second of Frank's stalker photos, she's much hotter there. It looks like she only rides Virenque and not the bike though, judging by the lack of Rule #7.

The funniest thing is, if you do a Googligooglie search of "Virenque", these littel gems just fall in your lap. I actually had to scan this picture out of a book to get a reasonable picture of him riding a bike.
Lexicon entry changed to Reeessshhhhaaaarddd Virenque, to imply the booze-indoozed slur that I'm sure was intended.

That is a chick. (LIke anyone trusts my option on such matters).
wiscot says:

Oct 17 2011 at 1:56 pm

@frank
I believe the three folks actually riding the bike were called Eric, Patricia and Oscar.