Giro Trentino - early days

At this time of year, we are still desperate for any pro cycling to watch, so at the weekend LLB and I watched our recorded coverage of the Giro Trentino: it's what Cav what call a shitsmall race, with only half a dozen pro-teams in it, but we watched it because a) it's considered a good run-up to the Giro, and b) it was the only race on that weekend.

We turned on the TV, warmed up the hard drive recorder, got out the small cheesy biscuits in the new heart-shaped bowl (LLB would not let me take a photo of it to show you, on the grounds of Blog Security) (Or possibly to avoid having to admit that he's a teeny tiny bit of a softy now and then, aaaaaaw!) and settled down on the sofa - it was supposed to be a catch-up of Day 1, then on to Day 2, but instead they gave us a good long catch-up of Amstel Gold....

...and then started showing us Day 2 of Trentino, while telling us what happened in Day 1.

*sigh*

So, what happened on Day 1? Apparently there was a short road race in the morning, length unknown, won by Ahhh-Djay-Deux-Airrr (AG2R to you and I, but Rob Hatch insists), followed by a shortish TTT in the afternoon, at which Sky hammered everyone else into extinction, surprise surprise, and at which AG2R did so badly, coming in 19th, that they had to hand the winner's jersey straight over to someone else. Possibly this was due to the truly outstandingly horrible colour of it.  Pink? Not really, too dark. Purple? No, not dark enough. Lilac? Cerise? Whatever it was, it looked horrible with brown shorts.

The PJ boys (Ass-t'na) did a very credible ride, with 7.5 of their 8 riders across the line at the end - one was just hanging off the back a bit, but they were the only team (I think) who got all their riders over the line together.

BMC were what is called "on the back foot" as they could only be bothered to send a team of 6, so they didn't have much spare capacity. We got the feeling that they were not really trying to win this race, but were using it as prep for the real Giro. (Cries of "Pink knickers for the Giro!" from my twitter-friend Jen.)

So, here we are watching Day 2, proper road racing, and the peloton contained an outstandingly horrible colour clash, as the race leader is now someone from CCC Polstat, who are a pro-conti team whose kit is the same tangerine bright as that of Euskaltel (leading to some confusion in the helicopter shots, I can tell you) only distinguished by the black CCC here and there, which frankly looks as though a small pony with very dirty hooves has galloped all over them. They are hereby referred to as the Pony Polstat Express. And the combination of Euskaltel Orange with Hideous Dark Lilac/whatever is so bad that even LLB, a man, and therefore not affected by tasteless colour combinations, was moved to comment on how revolting it looked.

Apart from that colour clash, it's often quite interesting to see what the pro-conti teams are wearing: their kit often seems to be a simplified version of the pro-team kit, generally using the same colours, but usually a season or two behind.  One in particular was making me laugh, it was a sort of cut-down Cannondale kit, in almost exactly the same shade of green but with the shorts having the front modesty panel and the padded seat panel in black.

Now normally, I am fully in favour of black shorts, as some of you might remember, but in this case it did rather look as though they were wearing black nappies. Just a trick of perspective, like the way that Blanco from the front, at a quick glance, appear to have a Crusader cross on their chests (it's actually the word "Blanco" in white text combining with the vertical white gap between the colour blocks, but it looks just like a cross, which is why I now refer to them as the Crusaders) but it is a bit distracting. Apart from the nappies, I wonder if they take a photo of their favourite team to the kit-maker and say "I want it in THAT shade of green, please!" ?

Today we have Carlton Kirby and Magnus Backstedt commenting - I'm still a bit peeved at Magnus for leaving UK Youth and going into Triathalon instead. But I do enjoy him commenting, so I suppose I will have to forgive him.  Today we can hear him coughing in the background whenever Carlton is talking, and he was doing it last week as well, so we wonder if he's got some sort of bronchitis. That'll teach him to ditch the lovely Yanto Barker...

The race continues, lots of long rolling roads, lots of flat bits around some very nice lakes.

Ah, the green nappy team are apparently called Bardiani Valvole, great name.  There's not much happening, so LLB and I are fighting over the cheesy biscuits again, getting in practice for the Tour. He picks out one of the heart-shaped ones and hands it to me. Aaaaaw! I can't find another heart-shaped one, as I am concentrating on watching the TV, so I pick out another one, and nibble the edges off until it is more or less heart-shaped, then give it to him. Surprisingly, he's less than thrilled with my romantic gesture.

OOh, more lovely lakes. I can see why people go on holiday to the Italian Lakes, they are quite wonderful. There's one with a house built on a little promontory, with water on three sides. Lovely!

At 20km to go, we still have one of the Green Nappy boys out in front, with just over a minute back to a small chasing group of pro-contis, then another minute back to the peloton, who are doodling along and really not putting in any effort at all. Apparently the finish is at the top of a biggish hill, so they aren't bothered about a handful of pro-contis. Sure enough, with no apparently increase in effort, the catch is made, and suddenly Sky are on the front again, en masse: ah, normality is restored.

As an aside, it's so nice to see the guys back in shorts and jerseys, not swaddled in layers of gilets, rain capes, gloves, leg-warmers, arm-warmers etc. Although, strangely,  Ass-t'na still look as though they are wearing pyjamas, although now they have short leggies. Summer onesies?

Ah, a Sky rider has shot off the front, and is making a break for freedom, towing a couple of oddments with him. Oh blimey, it's Siutsou, pronounced Svitsoff, so that's how I am going to spell it. He's another Belarusian, a country-man of Vasil Kiryienka, the Deltic Domestique of Sky (NB note for non-UK readers and non-trainspotters, a Deltic was a hugely successful and powerful diesel engine, used in trains of the same name. The usual expression  "goes like a train" can be trumped by saying "goes like a Deltic" End of digression) and he's clearly been let off the leash today.

I notice in passing that the Sky techies can keep a track of their riders, not just the watts that they are producing, but by checking their blood pressure using the handy built-in pressure cuff in the blue sleeve stripe.

The peloton is shrinking, with just 7.5km to go, and it's uphill now, and uphill all the way home. It's also getting steeper: Cadel Evans is looking good, and about time too: perhaps he's finally thrown off that bug, and is coming back into form? Carlton and Magnus speculate about it, for a while.

Ass-t'na are now pulling on the front - Sky have, of course, dropped right back while their guy is in the lead, and are laughing and joking together - and are starting to sweat, in their winceyette summer onesies. They unzip, to reveal - oh no! one rider is not wearing the regulation white vest underneath, he's wearing black! There's a rebel in the Pyjama Party!

Svitsoff pings off the front again, he's clearly toying with the two riders still trying to stick with him. Rouland, the Europcar rider, looks as though he's on the very edge... and sure enough, he cracks, and drops back. Green Nappy Team man makes a valiant effort, but Svitsoff is off again, not even out of the saddle, he just rides away, Vasil-style, with that same poker face and not showing any effort. Do they train them, from childhood, to act like Vulcans, do we think? Vasil is the only one not smiling in his Team Sky mug-shot, that's for sure.

The peloton responds, after momentary panic, by sending Nibali off the front, shattering what's left of the peloton, apart from Wiggo, who appears from nowhere and calmly pedals up behind him, and a Vini Fantini rider (are they still a British registered team, I wonder? Farnese Vini were, but I don't know if the change of sponsor has altered anything).

There are sweaty faces on the hill, but there is snow on the roadside. I can't imagine what it must be like to live somewhere where you can sit outdoors in short sleeves, then half an hour in the car and you are above the snow line. Amazing. Anyway,  the sweat is dripping, the snow is lying, and Cadel Evans crumbles into a little sobbing heap at the roadside. Well, ok, not actually lying down and crying, but you could see that he was thinking about it. He pedals squares the rest of the way, while Nibali shoots off again, leaving the other two behind, for about three seconds - then the steady-steady calm pedalling of Wiggo brings he and the Vini Fantini day-glo yellow rider back up to Nibali's wheel. This is such a good technique!

2k to go and of course Wiggo just paces merrily behind Nibali and Vini rider *pause to get his name - Santambrogio, that's the one* - of course, he's not going to do any sort of attacking, with his teammate being in the lead.

1k to go, still uphill, and it's starting to look as though the chasers are going to catch Svitsoff, they are gaining on him! It's a terrible moment, even if you don't know him, as he's worked so hard for so long, all alone, and really deserves the win. Carlton is saying that he's definitely going to get caught, until - oh joy! - the course suddenly flattens out, and he miraculously picks up speed. The Vini rider is putting heart and soul into it, and is pounding away, but he's not going to catch up.! Svitsoff has enough of a lead to look around, sit up, and make a rather unfortunate hand-on-heart gesture which completely obliterates the sponsor name on his jersey.

 Whoops!

Perhaps he hasn't won a race before? Kosta, you are supposed to make a big thing about the sponsor name, not cover it up with your hand!

He meant well. And he'll probably still get chocolate cake for tea. Or is that only Cancellara?

Wiggo and Nibali come up to the line together, and it is plain to see that Wiggo could easily take 3rd if he wanted to, but he lets Nibali have it, and pats him on the back as they cross the line, which is a nice sports-man-like gesture to make.

So that's the first instalment of Trentino over and done, not terribly exciting, but better than nothing. And this weekend we'll hopefully have Fleche Wallone to watch, which Our Andy was in, and finished: and on Sunday Liege-Bastogne-Liege, which Our Andy won, once, and which he is riding again this year.

Yay!