Don't hate me just because I hate you...
It is with great pride (and a certain lack of knowledge as to all the details) that I would like to announce that as of today I will be a member of the Bare Knuckle Brigade. I am not sure exactly what all this entails, but inking a deal with the boys who know ink certainly has to be a step in the right direction careerwise. I can only imagine the endless possibilities that await me in the future.
Maybe Gary Fisher will find me a man of worth, and next year I'll be riding one of those "Cool guy only" edition single speed Superfly's. I kinda doubt that I'm of the caliber to deserve such bestowage, but one can dream. Maybe Gary could send me some stickers if he can't swing a sweet plastic flying machine. That would be nice too. I heard Gary's kinda particular when it comes to picking his riders, but he seems delighted to have my pee sample in hand so let's keep our fingers crossed.
Maybe Keith Bontrager will shower me with carbon parts and invite me to stay in a sweet chalet overlooking the course at the Tour de France next year. We could sit back and talk about how it must suck to be a bottom rung loser in the realm of the cycling industry. Oh.... good times, good times. Maybe Keith has some stickers he doesn't need or maybe a few carbon valves cap that were deemed "Lance-unworthy".
"Are you kidding me Keith? Nine thousandths of a gram for a valve cap? You can't do better? What a freakin' hack."
Perhaps I will join up with Doug and Elk and we will super domestique for Jesse and Marko when they throw their hats into the very financially rewarding ring that is single speed endurance racing on a full time basis with factory level support like has never been seen before. You think bottle hand ups from non-neutral support personnel are controversial? Just wait till you see the quad runners following us up the singletrack loaded with spare bikes, team doctors with syringes loaded with questionable substances, and bikini clad beer girls.
Having your significant other and two screaming kids following you in a Honda Element full of water bottles ain't gonna cut it in '09.
There could be a plan in the works to join up with Squirrel in Iowa and totally dominate the stage race that some folks call RAGBRAI. I know it's not a race, but when we jump off the front it's gonna be go-time. Maybe Nat and I can be the lead out pain-train that propels Squirrel to the line in the pursuit of everlasting Iowa glory. We'll be moving up through the peleton so fast those guys won't even see it coming in their rear view mirrors.
We'll crush those bearded pansies on their mobile lawn chairs.
There's always a chance that the Bare Knuckle Brigade is just a Fight Club in disguise, and it's true purpose is to start a worldwide revolution financed by the sale of chamois butter made from liposuctioned human fat. Maybe Skip Cronin is Tyler Durden. Maybe War Axe is just a front for the whole operation, and instead of making bikes he's really fabricating war axes to arm the entire brigade. You should probably hide your loved ones in a safe place... just in case.
Since the BKB is the anti-team team maybe we'll have an anti-team anti-training camp. While the "real" teams spend their early springs going to exotic locales to get in a bunch of "base miles" on road bikes and experience local culture while sipping on Perrier we'll be heading to Minneapolis in the dead of winter to have fixed gear bike derbies on frozen lakes while tossing back PBR's and looking for things to shoot with BB guns.
Sorry. No smart comment here. I just love the fact that these were the kinda people PBR was trying to sell beer to back in the day. Tennis and polo shirts are a sign of the revolution.
I think the contract I signed is pretty good for where I'm at this stage in the game. It's a thirty-seven year commitment, but they're paying me $42,000,000. Of course, like any other professional sports contract, I don't get that money until I finish my commitment, and they have the right to cancel the contract at any point... oh, and they also have access to my bank account information... but yeah, just like any other pro contract (or so they told me). Pretty freakin' sweet, huh?
So as of today I'm a hater. Well, I was a hater before today, but now I'm a hater with a certain sense of style. Will I be "Stars and Hearts" for life? Well, I'll be seventy-six when my contract runs out, but I have the option to renew at the end of my contract ( I have to wrestle a bear or something, so much fine print I can't remember... more standard pro contract stuff), so we'll see.
Disclaimer: All comments regarding the Cohutta 100 SS conflict are in pure jest. If you are an angry Texan please refrain from posting vile retaliatory comments to this post. I only have marginal control of my bowel functions, and I might shit myself if I feel threatened by your heated words.
Maybe Gary Fisher will find me a man of worth, and next year I'll be riding one of those "Cool guy only" edition single speed Superfly's. I kinda doubt that I'm of the caliber to deserve such bestowage, but one can dream. Maybe Gary could send me some stickers if he can't swing a sweet plastic flying machine. That would be nice too. I heard Gary's kinda particular when it comes to picking his riders, but he seems delighted to have my pee sample in hand so let's keep our fingers crossed.
Maybe Keith Bontrager will shower me with carbon parts and invite me to stay in a sweet chalet overlooking the course at the Tour de France next year. We could sit back and talk about how it must suck to be a bottom rung loser in the realm of the cycling industry. Oh.... good times, good times. Maybe Keith has some stickers he doesn't need or maybe a few carbon valves cap that were deemed "Lance-unworthy".
"Are you kidding me Keith? Nine thousandths of a gram for a valve cap? You can't do better? What a freakin' hack."
Perhaps I will join up with Doug and Elk and we will super domestique for Jesse and Marko when they throw their hats into the very financially rewarding ring that is single speed endurance racing on a full time basis with factory level support like has never been seen before. You think bottle hand ups from non-neutral support personnel are controversial? Just wait till you see the quad runners following us up the singletrack loaded with spare bikes, team doctors with syringes loaded with questionable substances, and bikini clad beer girls.
Having your significant other and two screaming kids following you in a Honda Element full of water bottles ain't gonna cut it in '09.
There could be a plan in the works to join up with Squirrel in Iowa and totally dominate the stage race that some folks call RAGBRAI. I know it's not a race, but when we jump off the front it's gonna be go-time. Maybe Nat and I can be the lead out pain-train that propels Squirrel to the line in the pursuit of everlasting Iowa glory. We'll be moving up through the peleton so fast those guys won't even see it coming in their rear view mirrors.
We'll crush those bearded pansies on their mobile lawn chairs.
There's always a chance that the Bare Knuckle Brigade is just a Fight Club in disguise, and it's true purpose is to start a worldwide revolution financed by the sale of chamois butter made from liposuctioned human fat. Maybe Skip Cronin is Tyler Durden. Maybe War Axe is just a front for the whole operation, and instead of making bikes he's really fabricating war axes to arm the entire brigade. You should probably hide your loved ones in a safe place... just in case.
Since the BKB is the anti-team team maybe we'll have an anti-team anti-training camp. While the "real" teams spend their early springs going to exotic locales to get in a bunch of "base miles" on road bikes and experience local culture while sipping on Perrier we'll be heading to Minneapolis in the dead of winter to have fixed gear bike derbies on frozen lakes while tossing back PBR's and looking for things to shoot with BB guns.
Sorry. No smart comment here. I just love the fact that these were the kinda people PBR was trying to sell beer to back in the day. Tennis and polo shirts are a sign of the revolution.
I think the contract I signed is pretty good for where I'm at this stage in the game. It's a thirty-seven year commitment, but they're paying me $42,000,000. Of course, like any other professional sports contract, I don't get that money until I finish my commitment, and they have the right to cancel the contract at any point... oh, and they also have access to my bank account information... but yeah, just like any other pro contract (or so they told me). Pretty freakin' sweet, huh?
So as of today I'm a hater. Well, I was a hater before today, but now I'm a hater with a certain sense of style. Will I be "Stars and Hearts" for life? Well, I'll be seventy-six when my contract runs out, but I have the option to renew at the end of my contract ( I have to wrestle a bear or something, so much fine print I can't remember... more standard pro contract stuff), so we'll see.
Disclaimer: All comments regarding the Cohutta 100 SS conflict are in pure jest. If you are an angry Texan please refrain from posting vile retaliatory comments to this post. I only have marginal control of my bowel functions, and I might shit myself if I feel threatened by your heated words.
Ya know, a lot of the BKB does Trans Iowa. That's a pain cave you've yet to enter into, and definitely fits the "bad idea racing" definition with a free entry to boot. You could do it on a 36"er to boot.
Something more for you to stew about all summer............;>) (Comment this)
Don't talk about fight club
Skips good people!
(sts) (Comment this)
I caught his friend shortly there-after positioning himself to shiv me (or would that be shank?) probably to steal my sweet Bike Nerd socks off my cold, dead body.
Crazy bunch... and whats with their fascination with banjo music? (Comment this)
:) I'll take a jar!
Yah can hang out with Floyd!
Ain't no money to be made in cycling.
Yah gotta go where the shine is hunny!
Where the media lights shine!
Where those doing dope don't get caught all that much!
Baseball, football, basketball, soccer, golf.
The spot light is on these sports.
Easy they are in comparison to cycling.
Much much easier in comparison to mtbing.
Media rules the masses. The masses buy shit. Buying shit keeps the salaries high.
Hence, the big salaries for those kicking around balls.
Go kick your balls around on the streets of NCarolina with your pants down to attract the attention of media. Opps, probably the wrong sort of publicity you want.
Okay, so take your bike to a football game and bike across the field nude!
(make sure you tatoo some sponsor on your butt! Huge advertisement scheme!) (Comment this)
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Rev Ben already called me.
Said I better stay outta Texas unless I wanna keep away from grassy knolls. (Comment this)
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Thank God no one saw either of us take those Keystone Light 16 oz. hand ups at the 80 mile mark. We both could've been disqualified. Wait, did I say that out loud? Oh, shit. I hope they don't relegate us as well. Fuck it, you're BKB now. And all dem punk ass chumps better wrecka-nize... (Comment this)
Welcome to World Domination!
ps. Mind if I use some of your La Ruta photos? If I get anything out of it I'll make sure you benefit. (Comment this)