Tour de Hooligans

I've been watching the Tour de France the last couple of weeks. You know, that four week race of doped-up bicyclists? Just kidding. It's a fascinating sport. Charges of performance enhancing drugs notwithstanding. I don't quite understand the strategy of the teams and why they sometimes work together and sometimes not but I just love watching these guys as they glide through the French countryside.

And that's the first thing you notice about the tour coverage - the gorgeous countryside. The mountains, the valleys, the old towns, the historic buildings, churches and castles - the tour is a travelogue sure to entice tourists.

But the other thing you notice is the fans. Some of these people are so dedicated it borders on insanity. As the cyclists hit towns with narrow roads, or climb hills with equally narrow patches of pavement, these fans pack each side of the route and crowd in leaving the bikers even less room to cycle by.

Some fans take a step or two out and clap their hands and shout at the cyclists. Others decide to run along beside the bicycles waving their arms. Others pat the riders on the back. The other day some guy ran along beside the bikes waving a smoke flare. It makes me think that these people must be tossing back a bottle of vino or two under the hot sun while they're waiting for the peloton to pass them by. I mean some of these folks must be drunk to do some of the things they do.

The worst, though, occurred yesterday. Some guy, for reasons unknown, thought it would be a fun idea to toss tacks onto the road. The result of this stupidity? 48 punctures to bicycle tires, 3 camera motorcycles out of the race due to flats, and of course the result of yesterday's stage was tossed on it's head because many of those leading at the time were affected by this insanity.

Now I know people can get pretty excited by sports. Football, baseball, hockey playoffs are one example. Soccer perhaps provides us with the worst example of fan behaviour.

But when television commentators start referring to Tour de France fans as hooligans you know all is not right with the world.

Little do they know, but the French have just given us another reason to endear themselves with the rest of the world. Not.

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! You know what happens on Imagination D

My Back Pages - November

I know, I know, I know I should have reported in before now. But sometimes real life just gets in the way. I attempted 5 books in November. I say attempted because I slapped a big DNF (did not finish) on Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon. I just can't seem to get into this guy. It's the second or third of his I've given up on, Not so the other four, starting with a biography of Stephen Stills called Change Partners. This followed by a hilarious biography of the guy responsible for National Lampoon called A Stupid and Futile Gesture - How Doug Kenney and National Lampoon Changed Comedy Forever. I ended the month reading yet another biography, this one of the man behind Rolling Stone magazine,. It was called Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine. A fascinating read. So last month I hit the magic number 50 I'd imagined for myself back in January. If I roll this month into my yearly total I'm at 54 books. And I still hav

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

nonamedufus

Search This Blog