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The Rule on Wearing Team Jerseys… The Side Rule That Shall Not Be Broken, Lest You Incur Good-natured Verbal Abuse and Laughter for the Infraction
Ladies and gentlemen, I realized I made a severe, egregious even, mistake in omitting one small item in my post the other day in which I reviewed my new Ducati Corse team jersey:
That’s one badass jersey, baby.
In that post, I wrote that it is becoming increasingly acceptable to wear your favorite team’s jersey as a show of support. Wearing team kit is not directly against Rule #17 which only states team kit is questionable if one isn’t paid to wear it. I think wearing team kit has become far less questionable… as long as it isn’t a zebra or leopard print. In that case, f***, dude.
There is, however, one rule which must not be broken pertaining to team kit:
Rule #16 must not be broken. Respect the jersey. Do NOT wear world or national championship kit. There is a reason for adhering to this rule. It is very simple and easily illustrated with an experience from my cycling past.
August 3, 2013 (just two years after I started cycling)
I was riding in the Tour des Lac, starting and ending in Fenton, Michigan. 100 miles of fun, and they stuck almost all of the hills at the end. We had a five-man crew comprised of myself, three of my friends, and the German National Champion. His kit said so, right down to his National Champion socks. He was an animal, often pulling for three or four miles at a time, north of 23-mph. By the time we hit 60 miles, I was hurting but I wasn’t about to give up the draft, so I rolled on. A few miles later I was into my second wind and feeling better.
We pulled into a rest stop at the 70 mile mark. I stopped, then my buddy, Phill stopped right next to me… and here comes the German National Champion who was absolutely smoked after just 70 miles with just over 21-mph for an average. He had cycling brain big time and failed to hit his brakes, thereby sliding right into Phill’s rear wheel. Phill didn’t go down though the German Champ did. He also taco’ed Phill’s wheel in the process.
Phill was taken out by the German National Champion. At a rest stop. 70 miles into what would be an easy, boring spin for the real German National Champ. Because he was too tired to pull on his brake lever.
We still laugh about Phill being taken out by the guy… the story gets better every time it’s told and we laugh just a little harder.
You don’t want to be that person. Respect the championship jersey. You’re not good enough or fast enough to wear it. Unless you won it.
Trust me on this one point.
Actually, I don’t even know why they sell them… I can’t believe anyone would be crazy enough to even buy one knowing one mistake in that kit and you’re laughed at. Forever.
My friends, I shouldn’t have ridden the Venge yesterday but this winter just sucks and I needed a win.
All day long the weather looked beautiful. Beautiful. Visions of me on my Venge, rocketing down the road kept the melon committee excited all day. I couldn’t wait.
On the way home that beautiful weather took a turn for the worse. The temp dropped six degrees inside a few miles. And it started to snow. SNOW! Not hard, mind you, but snow!
I texted my buddy, Chuck, dejected, to let him know I was riding inside.
I prepped the Trek, changed rear wheels, got dressed and climbed on. The sun came out. F@€k.
Then a knock on the window. What to my wondering eye should appear, but a Lycra clad Chuck and his steed of Specialized cheer! He said through the glass, “C’mon, man! Let’s go! Throw a leg over that top tube and remember to steer!”
I opened the door to let him in. He talked me into riding with him in less than thirty seconds. With the Trek on the trainer, there was no doubt I was taking the Venge. I pumped the tires, went in to change, and was ready five minutes later.
The first pedal stroke (and every one thereafter) was glorious. Smooth and powerful… responsive. Dear God in Heaven, and sweet Baby Jesus in a manger, it was beautiful.
I didn’t stop smiling till after I took the photo above.
All is right in my world today, for tomorrow night (tonight) shall be deemed Venge Day part Deux! Oh yes it shall.
P.S. If you don’t feel this way about something in life (preferably that something is legal, decent and noble), consider that you may be doing something wrong. Just sayin’.
P.S.S. A special thanks to you, Chuck. I never would have been outside without you, brother.
I was listening to Mitch Albom’s radio show last evening. One of his topics was whether or not Slope Style and the Half Pipe Snowboarding events belong in the Olympics.
His take was that they don’t because they don’t meet his idea of the traditional sports handed up from a hundred years ago and that the Olympics are not the winter X-Games. Ironically, the mogul runs were on last night. Also, and I do agree in part here, he had a problem with the fact that most of the kids speak as though they took Fast Times at Ridgemont High just a little too seriously. The manner in which the kids choose to communicate, however unseemly, is not a solid reason to keep snowboarding out of the Olympics though. Sorry Mitch.
My two cents are the two sports absolutely belong. The two are excellent mixes of everything that is cool in figure skating, moguls and downhill skiing and ski jumping… The air. While snowboarding is not cross-country skiing or speed skating they are exceptionally exciting sports that pack an incredible entertainment value – without a doubt, both sports add to the games.
If that isn’t a strong enough case for snowboarding, dude, curling is an Olympic sport!
Now that said, for the purists, I certainly understand why they don’t appreciate the snowboarding sports, I’m just glad they lost.
Two years ago I went on a rant of epic proportions after Al Trautwig let loose a string of epically stupid doozies while covering girls’ gymnastics. I have grown weary of American coverage since – the sob stories simply grate on me. Yeah, life’s tough for most of us, gimme a break.
This morning, however, I got a taste of what I’ve been asking for – lighten up on the sob stories and just cover the stinkin’ sport, eh? To escape the coverage of women’s hockey (which I find almost as exciting as paint drying – too slow, too much ice) I switched over to Canada’s CBC coverage of women’s Slope Style where the announcers mostly laid off of the sob stories, just covered the event, kept the commentary to a fair minimum and didn’t shoot for the annals of idiocy in terms of over-the-top one liners. I should have been in Olympic coverage Heaven… And it was dull, almost lifeless. Now, the two fellas covering the event were completely lacking on the snowboarding lingity so that was definitely a factor but even so, after the Slope Style competition they switched over to coverage of the Skiathlon and it just so happened the American channel was covering the same sport so I switched back and forth between the two for comparison.
Sure enough, the canadian coverage was dry and dull again while the American coverage seemed much livelier. Of course, Al Trautwig wasn’t flailing about at idiotic one liners either, so there’s that. The point, I suppose, is that I should watch what I wish for… And wait for the figure skating coverage so I can fire off another epically idiotic on liner rant.
Oh my God, won’t have to wait. Johnny Weir. Nice necklace, sweetheart.
Speaking of figure skating, Yevgeny Plyushchenko was awesome. Way to take advantage of a man’s strengths rather than flail about trying to skate like the women (and look horribly out of sorts doing it). He was Chaz Michael Michaels to everyone else’s Jimmy MacElroy… When the Canadian kid started flapping his arms like a bird I almost shot coffee out of my nose.
Oh, and how did Michigan become the figure skating training center for the world? Kind if cool, that.
I was checking in on my favorite political blog and they pointed out that NBC is not only getting nicked for racism as it pertains to their release of post performance video shorts, they’ve offended the feminists as well with a new video that the marms are calling…well see for yourself, I don’t want my site popping up on particular searches.
I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know what the big deal is. As with most claims of sexism, I believe they are more rooted in jealousy than worries about “sexism”. For the backup to my point, let’s go to the comments:
“I spent the majority of every beach volleyball game seething at the lack of cellulite/anything unattractive on those women. Sure they work incredibly hard for it and I spend most of my time on a sofa… But still, life is unfair”.
That about sums it up. In politics, that’s what they call a gaffe. Accidentally telling the truth. Of course life isn’t actually unfair – it’s very fair for the vast majority of us, what it does is suck for those who spend the majority of their time on the couch because they keep wishing that they could attain what they desire without having to work for it. So rather than get off the sofa to get theirs, they whine about men finding svelte women attractive and label that sexism. Of course, they always fail to understand that men are different than women, thus proving that they are more sexist than the men/society that they’re complaining about…from the couch.
You just can’t make that crap up folks.
My first year using Endomondo to track my mileage I had a Blackberry Bold (I don’t remember the number, it was the top of the line). For reasons unbeknown to me that app had some serious problems acquiring the satellite and tracking mileage. Some days it would take 3-5 minutes to acquire a signal and if I rushed that and started tracking time before the signal was solidly acquired, the software wouldn’t track anything but time. To say this was annoying is putting it mildly – and far too kindly. My wife has the same problem, though less frequently, with her Samsung Galaxy III.
In March I bought an iPhone 4s and all of the problems stopped. I haven’t had a tracking issue since. It isn’t without minor flaws, the mileage markers are off and my lap times are WAY off when they uploaded to the website from my century, though everything else (mileage, time etc) appear correctly. The GPS connectivity is instant (less than three seconds), the tracking is near perfect, and finally not one of the things I have to worry about as I’m heading out the door.
Another really cool feature available with Endomondo is the lack of the need of a cell signal to track a workout. As long as the phone can pick up a GPS satellite, you’re good (sat. signal strength shows prominently on the main screen). The app even stores the information until you’ve got a signal then uploads the info to the website when you open the app.
Now, battery usage can be a huge issue as well. Blackberry in hand, I went out last November with my buddy English Pete for a six hour ride and went through 2 batteries – I literally had to stop and switch out batteries halfway through and restart my phone and Endomondo. Last weekend I completed my century in a bit over five hours and went through less than 70% of the battery life. There is a trick to this extended battery life, and this works better for the iPhone than my old Blackberry by double… Keep the phone in “stand-by” mode while you’re tracking to conserve power.
Eventually I will pick up a backup charger, whether it’s solar or battery powered I haven’t decided yet, but my desire is to be able to get 10 hours of tracking with the screen on so I can follow roads on the map as I go. Either way, 5 hours of tracking on 70% of one charge is excellent in my experience.
There isn’t much in this world that works perfectly, especially when you’re looking at computer technology, but Endomondo and the iPhone work together about as seamlessly as can be hoped for.
I had a flashback to my childhood today. It wasn’t pretty. I flipped on the Olympics after getting back from my morning run, expecting to see something fun. I was treated to women’s mountain biking… Perfect!
Then it happened – in the middle of the race NBC cut to coverage of… Rhythmic Gymnastics?! Good God it was horrible! All at once, memories of my mother guarding the tv clicker like a hawk to watch Rhythmic Gymnastics more than 30 years ago! That very well could have been the most traumatic experience of my preteen years, having to sit through that. Now kids, we didn’t have much in the way of video games way back then and the only phone available had a pig-tail chord attached to it and plugged into the wall – and you sure as hell couldn’t play a game on it. When mom wanted to watch Rhythmic Gymnastics, better labeled dancing with balls, sticks and a long freaking ribbon (and a stick), we were stuck playing Clue or watching…that!
I never realized just how much that scarred me until my eyes fell on that heavily made-up woman rolling around on the ground looking longingly…at a ball. Then the commentator called the…ball an apparatus and the horrific flashback was complete. The world started spinning, the edges fading to a bright white. I thought to myself, “nooooo, don’t go to the light!”
My eldest daughter, God bless her, brought me back from the brink. Her voice, tinny and distant, called to me, “Father, what, pray tell, is this”? Nah, she just asked, “Dad, what is this “? I said, “junk” and quickly turned the channel to hand ball.
Man, that was a close call!