Cinderella rides a Trek

I know, I know. I really, really did want Dave Zabriskie to win the Tour, but I can't say that this year has been that much of a disappointment (come on, did you really think that anyone as anorexic as Michael Rasmussen or as banged up as Alexandre Vinokourov really had a chance of making it to Paris in one piece??)

I can't say that Alberto Contador has been that big a disappointment, though. I mean, what's not to like about the kid? Everybody loves a Cinderella story, and Contador is the kind of Cinderella who could actually inspire more people to get riding - in Spain, anyway. He's a nice guy who's been dating the same girl since before he went pro. He loves his mom and keeps pet birds and would've become a vet had he not gone pro. And in Madrid, everyone's holding their breath collectively, waiting to see if anything goes catastrophically wrong -- a blown tire that takes out the peloton, a fall, a (God forbid) positive drug test. Once he's on the podium and gets the trophy, Spaniards will go positively nuts and start honking their horns and going mad. But until then, everyone is waiting with baited breath, waiting to see if he tests positive (sad but true).

Go Deezy!

After the last couple of years, admitting you're looking forward to The Tour de France is kind of like admitting you like the films of Fassbinder - only a select few know what the hell you're talking about, and even then, those who do know what you're talking about could very well consider you to be some kind of weird obsessive...and obsessive about something that could be worthy of scorn. Lots of drugs, f'instance. And lots of perceived lying about drugs.

But I keep hoping. I wasn't a Lance fan, so I can't say that I was angered one way or another when the French tried to stick EPO doping charges on him. Roberto Heras broke my heart when he got busted after the 2005 Vuelta; until recently, I had a picture of Heras riding in Vuelta 05, blood pouring from a knee-area gash and the doctor of the Liberty Seguros team trying to affix gauze and cotton to Heras's knees, even though they're both travelling at 40 km/h. Heras's face is the color of cookie dough in that shot, but he still went on to try his best. And for what?

Then Floyd. Being Canadian, I have a weakness for underdogs, especially those with a comically chippy sense of humour and an undercurrent of rage that gets things done. I want so much to believe that Floyd didn't do it. But I like Pereiro, too: I don't know who will technically end up winning Tour 06, but I do find it depressing that it's the day before the Tour 07 and the matter has still not been settled.

So that leaves David Zabriskie. I know that the easy way out is to give into dimestore cynicism, that I should just say screw it and ignore the whole damn Tour. But I can't. There's just something in me that wants to believe in the entire, beautiful Tour, every gutbusting minute of it. So this year it's Dave Zabriskie: great legs, brilliant time trial results, sense of humour like a producer from The Simpsons. Gotta cheer for someone. And boy, would I like to see DZ win it, clean and simple, and deny the French another winner.